Graduation feelings while waiting for da Cove
Dear Kenyon College,
It is almost 2 am on the morning of my graduation, and I want to thank you.
Thank you for showing me that I am not so strange as to be unrelatable.
Thank you for teaching me, and for teaching me to acknowledge what I do not know.
Thank you for the wonders of mac n cheese wedges, shotgunning beers, dancing with my whole body, 2am river swims, face jewels, sing-a-longs, and harmonizing.
Thank you for making me brave.
A few friends and I were sitting and reminiscing earlier tonight, and one posed the question, “Would freshman year you be proud of senior year you?” After we all did the requisite crying, another said she had so little grasp on who she was before Kenyon, it was difficult to answer with certainty or specificity. I think coming here as I did, when I did, altered me more than I will ever grasp. I, too, find it difficult to speak to who or what I was on move-in day 4 years ago. But that’s okay. Thank you, Kenyon, you made me whole.







