A Senior Reflects on Four Years of Columbia, CC, and Life

I hope that Alma Mater, perched regally on Low Plaza overlooking College Walk, will look kindly on this impossibly difficult endeavor. For, as I write this article, I have come to realize that scripting a senior reflection for the commencement issue of one's college newspaper in many ways resembles the ambitious undertaking of reading Hume or Nietzsche for a Contemporary Civilization class as a naive sophomore in Columbia College.

At first you think you are mentally mature enough to tackle the responsibility of such a Herculean task and imagine it might even be fun to unravel the great mysteries of long-dead philosophers. But eventually you come to the realization that the chore at hand is more arduous than previously thought and you are totally overwhelmed by the enormity of the task.

Not only is it difficult to understand what the writers are saying because of the convoluted and often archaic language, but there also seems to be no logic tying everything together. All you see are a web of words and thoughts with no central theme or meaning.

Okay, the truth is that I probably used a bit of hyperbole here in comparing the more simple job of writing a senior reflection to the more difficult assignment of understanding meta-ethics or the like. A better comparison links the tremendous task of comprehending Marx, Freud, and Kierkegaard in a single semester (or understanding the historical significance of the events of the 20th Century, or grasping Chinese civilization, or any number of other academic pursuits) with the overwhelming mission of seeking meaning in your life.

And in the midst of all this doubt, the realization of what the past four years have been all about suddenly hits you like a final exam. Just like the CC texts, four years of undergraduate life does not give you any exact answers, but it presents options, paths, and guides for living. College is about accumulating knowledge by interacting with other people. The intellectual independence we gain this way helps prepare us for the seemingly impossible charge of putting meaning into what we will make of our lives. College is about acquiring the tools--namely the ability for innovative thought--to help us on our journey through life.

As stated before, there are still mostly unanswered questions about the future floating in my mind. I have almost no idea of where I will be fifteen years from now. I do not know where I will live or where I will work. But I do know that when a fork in the road arises, Columbia will have given me some tools that will facilitate making the right decisions.

I know that I now have a lot more information on a wide range of topics floating around somewhere in my head, thanks to the varied courses one must take to fulfill the graduation requirements at this liberal arts college. I have a set of friends who I will be close to years from now, friends who I will be able to talk to when the memories begin to dim and I need some help reminiscing about guzzling beers at Morningside haunts, sun-bathing on the steps, or finding a seat amongst the multitudes in Butler Library during exam week.

And I know the importance of respecting others for their varied cultures, religions, beliefs, and political views. I know that because I do not have all the answers, I must always have an open mind. It is this that will hopefully enable me to eventually find an intellectual, successful, and moral way to live.

I apologize if this all seems vague, but unfortunately these friends, memories, insights, and collective experiences from four years at Columbia cannot easily be summed up. The only thing I can say definitively and clearly to my readers is that the past years have not been wasted.

Lastly, I would like to thank my family. The cost of attending Columbia is considerable to say the least. But I believe my family made a wise and generous choice in funding this collegiate endeavor and supporting my life's education with invaluable advice.

With the newly acquired bachelor degrees, we commence on a new phase of life. I hope that life's experiences do not make us cynical or arrogant. I hope instead that we retain the independence and open-mindedness that we leave Columbia with today. As the inscription above the mantel in the John Jay lounge reads, "Hold fast to the spirit of youth. Let the years come and do what they may."