It finally happened.

I’m done.

It is with both a sense of relief, and also some nostalgia, that I write this post. I sit outside the same cafe where I wrote my post on the meaning of grad school¬†a few months ago, on the corner of 120th and Broadway, overlooking Union Theological Seminary and the tower of Riverside Church. Unlike that day, its dreary, but only outside. Inside, I’m filled with optimism, a drive returning into my soul that has been

This past semester has been incredible – from working with an amazing team on my Uganda capstone project, learning, for the first time in my life, humanities from an eastern perspective in my south asian course, to solidifying my friendships with incredible, smart people from around the world. Last year I was shackled by a bad relationship, now I’m more free, and I feel the quality of those I’m surrounding myself with has grown too. People is what made grad school special, but it took my until this last semester to figure that out.

I’ve always felt that, if I have good friends and family, that I’ll never have to worry about being alone. As I depart for Africa in July, via San Diego, there is a tinge of sadness about leaving New York, but with a certainty that the future is bright.

 

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