Here's to the little things

Graduation is supposed to be the culmination of four or more years of challenging classes, difficult exams, lengthy papers and the sleepless nights. It’s supposed to be the proudest moment, the big finale.

But 10 years from now, when I think back to this day, I doubt I’ll remember a thing that the speaker said, no matter how moving the words. I’m not even sure I’ll recall the date. When I think of my graduation, it will be the little things that I remember.

I’ll remember making fun of my soon-to-be-degree-holding friends for being unable to get their mortarboards to stay on. I’ll remember trying desperately not to laugh audibly when those same friends made snarky comments during the quiet parts of the ceremony. I’ll remember fighting back that strange feeling, somewhere between crying and laughing, every time someone asked for one last photo together.

I know that when I look back on the four years I spent at UConn, it’s going to be the little things that I remember.

I’ll remember how free and rebellious I felt the first time I skipped a class, and being completely deflated when I learned that it had been cancelled anyway. I’ll remember my first failing grade, my first extension and admitting defeat before withdrawing from my first class. I’ll remember calling my mom and taking solace in the fact that she said it wasn’t the end of the world.

I’ll remember leaving my first advising session in tears after being told that I was wasting my time if I didn’t already know what I wanted to do with my life. I’ll remember that I was in “Press in America” with Professor Tim Kenny when I realized that journalism, and not English, was what I wanted to be doing. Looking back, I’ll remember that class as having changed the course of my college career and, consequently, my life.

I’ll remember the first piece I had published in The Daily Campus. I’ll remember the first and only time I wore leggings to work and a coworker teased me about “not wearing pants” until I went home and changed. I’ll remember the night when I realized that a night off didn’t mean much when all your best friends were still in the office. I’ll remember editors meetings, trips to Store 24, and Bros Night. The DC has been my home, and the people inside it were my family.

I’ll remember the surprise 21st birthday party my friends threw when I insisted I was too busy to celebrate and I’ll remember that it was inexplicably Transformers themed. I’ll remember making my first alcoholic purchase, a six-pack of Sam Adams, from Husky Spirits. I’ll remember attending “Wine At Nine” every Tuesday with a group of close friends, savoring our last semester together and I’ll remember toasting with my fellow outgoing editors to an incredible year.

So let’s have a toast, Huskies, as the class of 2012. Here’s to the memories that defined the last four years and the friends that filled them. Here’s to graduation caps, and mid-ceremony jokes, and final photos together. Here’s to the last four years, Huskies. Here’s to the little things.