Senior year, post-pandemic: A year of firsts and lasts
Just like any other freshman, I stepped onto my campus bright-eyed and eager for a new beginning. I was never in a rush to get ahead of what college had to offer: a post-high school identity, new friendships, and extracurriculars. I took comfort in the fact that I had four years to go, ready to be peppered with unforgettable moments.
Then, of course, came the pandemic.
Three years later, with distance learning passing like a blip in time, I walked into my first in-person class feeling like my freshie self, picking up where I left off; but also feeling like a senior, more sure of myself and of what I wanted out of the school year—or so I thought. Compressing the final stretch of college into 10 months glaringly magnified a challenge that used to only pass through my mind from time to time: the delicate balance of living in the moment and living for the future, all while trying to make up for lost time due to the pandemic.
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This struggle first manifested in my calendar. I clung to a bucket list of memories I believed I should have as part of the college experience: late-night partying, that fieldwork-turned-hangout, and food trips. Trying to fit them all into the little time I had left became an obsession that only left me panicking when plans fell through.
I believed I had to have these college adventures because that’s exactly what the pandemic took away. In fact, these opportunities we missed out on and mourned over fall under a new, different kind of loss: shadow loss. Coined by thanatologist Cole Imperi, it refers to “loss in life, not of life,” which includes “losing social experiences, like parties, not seeing family or friends in person, or bigger events.” Over the pandemic, this term gained traction as people navigated losses not only of loved ones, but of milestones, too.
In trying to regain all these novel experiences, I forgot that spontaneous invitations and slow days are equally part of the college journey. It was only when I started having my big adventures that I also learned to appreciate the smaller moments, from early-morning heart-to-hearts to cooking sessions with friends.
After all, with graduation just a few months away, the urge to build up one’s credentials was palpable. My peers have been posting about their internships on LinkedIn left and right. But behind those celebratory announcements are students also longing to savor the last moments where they can feel like a teenager, before adulthood declares that there is no turning back.
I also realized that the urge to plan out my days extensively was just a symptom of a deeper conflict: the pressure to say yes to all opportunities, fearing that a “next time” might never come again. I was running the risk of stretching myself too thin. This not only pertained to hangouts, but also to org positions, internships, meeting new people, and attending school events. It didn’t help that my friends seemingly lived by the mantra, “I’ll do this because it’s our last year na.”
Sharing his own thoughts about this conflict, 21-year-old student Mel explained, “Seeing others successfully balance extracurriculars and academics pressured me into thinking, ‘Kung kaya nilang pagsabayin, eh ‘di dapat kakayanin ko (rin). But at the same time, when I do take on commitments, I realize that I’m always on the move and I just want to enjoy these remaining months.”
Relating to this is Kaleb, who said, “For the past years, I worked so hard to get to where I am in terms of achievements, but now I’m trying to rest before I work for the rest of my life. When I look back, the question that matters more is not, ‘Did I do everything well?’ but ‘Did I enjoy my time?’ After all, another concern looming over our heads is preparing for life after college.”
After all, with graduation just a few months away, the urge to build up one’s credentials was palpable. My peers have been posting about their internships on LinkedIn left and right. But behind those celebratory announcements are students also longing to savor the last moments where they can feel like a teenager, before adulthood declares that there is no turning back.
While post-college anxiety is nothing new, it has been amplified because of the pandemic. In fact, Cigna International Health’s 2023 survey deemed Gen Z the most stressed generation at work. “Gen Z was raised with a lot of pressure to be high achievers,” explained psychologist Debbie Sorensen. “But (they) are starting their careers in a chaotic landscape where they have little autonomy and freedom to find a meaningful, well-paid job.”
For me and my peers, taking on multiple internships and extracurriculars is a way to prepare for the workforce and regain a sense of control. While 10 months of being back in face-to-face classes is not enough to both revel in the last moments of our youth and face the calls of adulting, the least we can do is try.
As my senior year is about to end, I grieve over something unfolding in front of me as it is closing, too: I’ve only started to live my college life to the fullest but now I have to bid goodbye, and nervously say hello to the postgraduate world. Although this chapter in my life is soon reaching its final pages, I know my conflicting feelings about young adulthood are not close to nearing an end. I still have not figured out how to strike the perfect balance between living in the moment and living for the future. But if there is one thing these 10 months taught me, it’s that as long as I try to make the most out of my time, I know I will be all right.
