While my master’s degree was full of “firsts,” these past two semesters also included a lot of “lasts.” I’ve spent the past year thinking about what my lasts would be. What would be my last article in The Stute? What would be my last assignment submitted before 11:59 p.m.? When is the last time I would hang out with all my friends in one place before we go our separate ways post-grad? For anyone graduating, there’s this pressure to “make the last year count” while balancing school, work, and the post-grad unknown.
Last year, I graduated, and the worry about the last hadn’t sunk in yet. I knew I would be back another year for my master’s degree and would still be largely involved in the organizations that were a significant part of my undergraduate experience. Still, I celebrated all of my friends’ last times with them. We spent as much time together as we could. It was only a month later at a friend’s graduation party that I fully realized that my turn to experience all the lasts was coming up, and that they wouldn’t be there with me for it.
I’m the last active person from the group I joined, The Stute. I’m the last member of my pledge class to be fully active in my sorority. I’m the last person from my original friend group to still have the opportunity to regularly walk up the 9th Street hill and take in the view on campus. Although getting a master’s degree can feel like a lonely pursuit, especially when many of the people I previously had classes with graduated, I’m eternally grateful that I remained involved in The Stute and Theta Phi Alpha. When things were rough, I always had people from these organizations to spend time with — and be there for many of my lasts.
Although much of this essay has focused on my past, I want to emphasize the importance of being in the present. As April began and then turned into May, I found myself not as preoccupied with my lasts. I’ve often been told by friends, family, and even some professors that I think too much. Some time in April, someone in my life had told me that I spend too much time worrying about the future or ruminating over the past. This wasn’t the first time I’ve been told that, but I made sure it would be the last.
These past weeks have been some of the best times of my life, and that is because I allowed myself to focus on the present and all that I have within it. From coffee runs to apartment visits to spontaneous adventures in the city, I’ve truly enjoyed the time I’ve spent with my friends. I’m not afraid of what my, or even our, lasts could be, because I know there are more to come. While some experiences are unique to being a student, there are so many more that are not. I’m genuinely excited for post-grad life, and for the people I will experience it with.
Recently, a passing remark reminded me of Jeffrey Zaslow and Randy Pausch’s The Last Lecture. I read this book during my freshman year of high school and promised myself that I would carry Pausch’s words with me for the rest of my life. I even bought a physical copy of the book to keep. At some point, I forgot all about that promise — until now. While that book is full of many impactful pieces of wisdom, one that always stuck out to me is “When we’re connected to others, we become better people.” This has been a recurring theme of my time here and was even a big part of the senior essay I wrote last year. The person I am today (and every day) is the result of all those I have ever known.
To any underclassmen reading this, these are some of the toughest but also most rewarding years. One thing about Stevens is that it will continue to challenge you in ways you never thought possible. What matters most of all is who’s there by your side through it all. Let your legacy be the impact you make on those around you. Those are the people who will be there for all your firsts and even some of your lasts. Try to live in the moment. Keep going, and never be afraid to keep making memories with the people around you. Every day counts.
All in all, I’m very happy with my time at Stevens and with all the memories I’ve made. Thank you to everyone who has been by my side. Your support means the world to me. To the class of 2026, remember that the end of this chapter just means the beginning of the next one. Life post-grad may feel daunting, but we’ve got this!
This is my last piece ever for The Stute. I hope I made it count.
