An Open Letter to the Class of 2015

Over the past four years, Wellesley has been so much more than just a school for us; it has been a home and a place of profound growth both in and out of the classroom. It has brought a group of 600 very different students together, allowed us to explore different academic fields, cultures and perspectives and given us a vision of the adults that we hope to be. Looking back on our careers, it is easy to be cavalier about how we achieved what we did-we just woke up like this (flawless). However, we all know that this moment did not come easily. All students have fought battles to be here and I commend each and every one of you.

When I got my acceptance letter from Wellesley, I had the same reaction that I think a lot of my peers had. First came the natural joy and disbelief that Wellesley had wanted me in the first place. And then I saw the little magnet that was included in my Welcome Package and I thought to myself “...Yellow?” I had been hoping to emulate my sister’s class of regal purple but would have taken literally any color but yellow. It was so obnoxiously bright and persistent. Over the years however, the color has won my respect. Yellow is a color meant to make you notice and if we expand our reach to include gold, it is one of the most flexible and precious materials we have. There is a method in Japanese ceramics called kintsukuroi, whereby fragmented pottery is repaired by filling the cracks with gold. It relies on the understanding that although something may have suffered damage, it does not lose its value and instead can become stronger and more beautiful for having been broken. Gold both fortifies and transforms the ordinary into something extraordinary; needless to say that I now think it is the perfect color to represent our class.

In the past four years together, the Class of 2015 has seen some major changes-the abolishment of the Riverside bus in favor of service to Harvard Square and MIT, the opening of a new Dunkin Donuts and Boloco in the Ville, the induction of a new Asian American studies minor, and most recently the adoption of a new gender-inclusive admissions policy. We have weathered storms together (literally)-hurricane Irene during Orientation, Nemo and the snowpocalypse of 2015 during which we broke the record for snowiest winter in Massachusetts.

But it has not been all donuts and sledding. During our time together, we have seen our world, our country and even the city of Boston ripped apart by violence, intolerance and hatred. From a more personal perspective are the daily uphill battles that we fought both mentally and physically-anxiety, depression, eating disorders. These were born out of the belief that we were not good enough to be here, and the fear that we may never be good enough to deserve Wellesley.

I think every Wellesley student has asked themselves the same question: ‘Did I make the right choice?” After hearing me talk about my experiences here, a lot of people did ask, “Why did you choose to stay?” Every Wellesley student that I have ever talked to about this has said the same thing: the people. In our acceptance letter, we were told that among us was a trapeze artist, an Olympic equestrian-to-be and while those are certainly interesting and impressive, I have met both of those students and I can tell you that that their novelty is not their most valuable quality.

I have seen moments of compassion flourish in the most mundane places-in laboratories and libraries, in org meetings and team practices, in dining halls and residential halls. It is the small and ordinary acts of kindness that have forged the most lasting friendships and allow us to save each other a little bit everyday. You would be amazed at the power a conversation over a sandwich, nachos or beer can hold. It is these friendships that give us the motivation to put ourselves out there, to write the extra page, to go that extra mile. And you can’t find them at just any school. I sometimes think of Wellesley as a crucible. Like the metalworking tool, Wellesley has been a high-pressure environment for the members of the Golden class. But also like the metalworking tool, it is the necessary first step in creating something exceptional.

I often think about the girl that my parents dropped off at Wellesley four years ago. Her greatest aspiration was to quietly earn her 4.0, make it look effortless and go by otherwise unnoticed. (Spoiler alert: none of those things came to fruition). She was shy to speak up in class, avoided all conflict when possible and did not make friends easily. In an interview for an org, I distinctly remember being asked to list three topics about which I could argue an opinion and an e-board member of my choice whom I would hypothetically fight to the death. They were being somewhat facetious of course but I was mortified into silence at the thought of confronting another human, either verbally or physically. So, fast forward four years, to imagine that that girl could find the courage to address her peers would have been inconceivable. Yet here we are. It took me about two years to really hit my stride here, to figure out how to be on my own and how to be with others. My time at Wellesley has not been a smooth sail by any means, but the greatest gift that this school has given me is the confidence to stand up for what I believe is right and to denounce things that I believe are unjust-Wellesley has helped me find my voice.

I have absolutely no idea what the future holds in store for us. But I have seen what wonderful things you have all done during your time here and I want to urge you to continue being your wonderful selves. First, stay curious about the world. For many of us, Wellesley was the first experience we have had interacting with people of different beliefs, cultures, or sexual orientations. But I hope that it is certainly not your last and that you keep seeking that which is unfamiliar. Second, stay passionate about your causes because that means that you haven’t stopped thinking that things can change. But lastly, stay hopeful-because it means that you still believe that things can change for the better and I look forward to hearing stories in the years to come about how you made them better.

Congratulations again, to the golden Class of 2015, it has been my privilege to know you.