Seniors Speculate: Stop Asking Me What Comes Next
On living through a global pandemic, change, and having way too many questions.
A year and a half ago, I was sitting in my apartment in the city, working on stories for NYU Local as the world was seemingly falling apart.
At that time, I had a plan for exactly how my life would unfold post-NYU. Little did I know that my five-year plan was about to be indefinitely derailed. Like many other students, the pandemic sent me back to my hometown for what turned out to be the rest of my college career.
Before all of this happened, I was really feeling like I was starting to get into my groove. I had found a great group of people, was finally comfortable with my independence, and had learned to trust my gut. Having all of that suddenly taken away from me and being forced to spend what were supposed to be the “best years” of my life arguing over which sibling would use the car and having to escape to my bright green childhood bedroom to get away from my parents felt like a fall from grace. It took a toll on my self-confidence.
Besides enduring what felt like a regression to my high school self, going back home led me to slowly realize that my post-grad life is going to look a lot different than what I had imagined. After all, having a drama major doesn’t seem very helpful in a time when Broadway is shut down. I’ve watched multiple friends struggle to find work in this environment. Some days, I am gung-ho about starting a career in writing; others, I praise myself for writing one (1) email.
All this to say — the next time somebody innocently asks, “What are you going to do after graduation?” I’m going to lose it.
I am in a place of career limbo. And, given everything that has happened in the past year, I think that’s totally valid. How am I supposed to decide what I want to do for the rest of my life when over 500,000 people have died of COVID, while there is a huge racial justice movement happening, or when the government saw an unprecedented and violent insurrection? Graduating virtually on my couch at 8 a.m. is the very last thing on my mind.
Pandemic fog is real, and many people my age are feeling the strain of this major life upheaval. Living through these “unprecedented times” (eye roll with me) has caused more people to have increased problems with anxiety and depression; likewise, lack of human contact due to quarantine has skyrocketed feelings of isolation. And when all the news is bad news, it’s easy to fall into a pit of despair.
But though all of this — dare I say — there are certain things that going through this pandemic has changed for the better.
Personally, I finally stopped putting off seeing a therapist. I learned to appreciate my hometown again, and to find joy in the little things, be it playing with my dogs or taking the long way home on a sunny day. My relationships grew stronger with the people I really cared about; I started to evaluate what I really needed and what I needed to let go of.
Through this tornado of wow-this-is-really-great things and holy-shit-I-want-to-stop-existing things, I would ultimately say that I am a better person than I was pre-pandemic. A better person, however, with a very vague idea of what comes next. I’ve learned to plan a little less and ride the wave a little more. (Unless it’s a fourth wave. Go get vaccinated.)
Basically: we are all just figuring it out. I think that’s the new normal.
So stop asking me what comes next. Your guess is as good as mine.
