Grad Cards, Anticipatory Goodbyes, Brief Flings with Business(y) Schools, and New Haven Supremacy

What do you write in a grad card?

I’ve asked, and have been asked this question more than a few times in the past couple of months. Finding the right ratio of humor to sincerity (which is an entirely case-by-case deduction) and deciphering how much to write for each recipient is far more challenging than I foresaw.

Of course, there’s also the additional pressure of knowing that you probably won’t see whoever it is you’re writing to after the summer ends—this could be your last chance to say something heartfelt. Your closest friends, you’ll definitely keep in touch with, but what about less-familiar companions?

No matter how many times I ask ChatGPT to write something more conversational, less cringe-inducing, and “spartan” (whatever that means in this context), it is yet to generate a satisfying note—though maybe, as a writer, I should take this as a consolation prize (or just as a reflection of my poor AI-prompting skills).

In any case, it’s hard to say goodbye (I think it’s a cliche for a reason). Perhaps the collective realization that we’ll have to do that soon is what’s sparked the recent uptick in hugs in all of my casual friend groups. We greet each other with hugs and never say goodbye without embracing, however briskly. Even I’ve begun initiating hugs (crazy, I know). I suppose these small farewells have become so significant because they come in anticipation of ~the big goodbye.~

Now, it’s possible that these bigger goodbyes when we go off to college won’t actually be so big. They might be entirely anticlimactic, but I hope they’re at least a little dramatic. After all, I want to honor the value my friendships hold!

I think I knew graduation wouldn’t hit me in the moment, but some part of me still wondered if it might kick in when I was giving my speech or receiving my diploma. It didn’t. Instead, it hit more gradually, as I developed a (semi-newfound, semi-debilitating) propensity for crying, upsetting the dynamics of some of my friendships, but I think ultimately strengthening them.

Sometimes I forget that quite a few people think, maybe because of my directness or the involuntary sighs I often let out or the fact that I have an eyebrow-furrow for every emotion, that I’m a cold and/or cynical person. Take my graduation speech-advisor, who suggested I change the following line in my speech:

“we’ve certainly worked hard, but I’d venture it’s the connections we made here that we’ll remember most fondly: the bonds between teachers and students formed through arduous extra-help sessions and the unlikely friendships with people we thought would always just be classmates.”

“It’s great, but do you think this part sounds like you? It’s a little mushier than what I’d expect from you,” he had said.

“Oh, yeah—true,” I had replied, but really I was thinking let me be ooey-gooey! I’m graduating! This is my last chance to say the quiet parts out loud! Let me have my big goodbye! ¹

It’s hard to control what side of my personality comes out with who, but once people get to know me, they tend to realize I’m hopelessly sentimental. It’s why I keep every card I’ve ever gotten, hang film photos all over my room, and still have the corsages from my junior and senior prom. When I made a graduation post on instagram yesterday, it was the reason I included a picture with that friend who doesn’t even have instagram and will never see it—so even if we grow apart or she develops early-onset dementia or I suffer amnesia, there’s this picture that proves we were, at one point, close (and that means something)!

Interestingly enough, just a few months ago, I was eager to say goodbye. By that, I mean I really didn’t want to stay in Connecticut. Penn and UChicago were, briefly, my top schools. Then, for a while, Duke (Because Yale’s frattier counterpart was somehow appealing?²).

I made dozens (hyperbole—I wasn’t that insane) of pro-con lists, and altered my point system whenever Yale came out on top (well, this was a little insane). Eventually, I decided to apply ED to Penn, much to my parents’ dismay and my friends' confusion. I’m really not a pre-professional person—in fact I’d much rather defer my entrance into the workforce for as long as possible. Not to mention the “work hard, play hard” mentality every Penn student I’ve ever talked to has enthusiastically mentioned (neither extreme really suits me). I made the decision in part because of the school’s Communication and Public Service program, and in part because I really like Philadelphia (not quite as much as New Haven, of course).

Despite my love of New Haven, for a myriad of reasons (including but not limited to: friends having my dad as a teacher, stunting my development, getting stuck here for the rest of my life and never experiencing anywhere new), I wanted to leave.

Thus, I was fairly disappointed when I opened my Penn rejection letter (not even a pity deferral!) at 4:30 AM the day of my cousin’s wedding (time zone difference—I was in India). Luckily for me, I’ve never been deeply affected by academic shortcomings. Still, in the weeks that followed, I poured over my Common App essay, considered applying ED II to UChicago, and questioned my chances of getting accepted into any schools besides my safeties.

“Why are you so down bad for these schools that are known for their business and econ programs?” I remember a friend asking me. Considering I give all my business/economics/finance-major friends a hard time, her question was valid. Upon reflection, the chief draw for both Penn and UChicago was location³—I’ve never been to Chicago, but I think I’d like it (maybe I just like cities). During my fleeting obsession with the school, I even managed to romanticize Chicago winters, picturing myself trudging to class enveloped in a cozy puffer jacket and surrounded by snow.

Anyway, I ended up at Yale, which (as I’ll admit to anyone but my parents) was my favorite school all along. After all, I’m not ready to give up breakfasts in one of the many cafes within a 1-mile-radius, trips to the church playground I outgrew a decade ago⁴, and midnight walks through east rock during snowstorms⁵, when the snow reflects the glow from the streetlights, glittering on the dark asphalt and atop tree-branches.

In my friend Bella’s graduation card⁶ for me, she wrote, “We both know opposites attract, but I prefer to think about it as us completing each other.” This makes me wonder if my new friends at Yale will also be, overwhelmingly, STEM-oriented, or if I’ll finally cease being the token writer.

I have a feeling the former might stay true, which means I’ll probably end up with at least a few acquaintances who’ll know my father. In fact, one of my friends was already admitted to the program he helps run, so I guess I just have to come to terms with that reality. In any case, I do need friends who complete me, whether that be through differing academic curiosities, hobbies, or perspectives.

Perhaps someday I’ll be a writer in Philadelphia (but I’ll call it Philly by then) reporting on the downtown arts scene. But for now, New Haven is still my favorite city.

————————

1 I kept the line, which I don’t even think is that sappy!

2 I’ve said before and will say again that Duke is Yale for people who pregamed life.

3 You probably shouldn’t choose a school based on location, but I didn’t realize how much I was factoring it in until after the fact. I don’t feel too bad about it, though, because I recently talked with a high school alumnus who is transferring colleges because he hates the location of his current school.

4 With my chosen big-sister.

5 With my favorite ginger!

6 Letter? It took up 3-sheets of lined paper, double-sided (better than any grad gift tbh).