Hemingway famously gave the advice that one should “Write Drunk and edit Sober.” While I’m not drunk, though since my last blog I am now of legal age, I am writing while overwhelmed by another powerful sensation—regret. Dear Readers, while I won’t be so magnanimous as to claim that I have failed you—I am ashamed. I haven’t written a blog in far too long, and in neglecting my duties as a member of Hopkins Interactive I’ve failed to practice what I’ve preached. As I’ve noted at length previously, early on in my Hopkins career I faced a number of (admittedly self-imposed) academic difficulties. By relying on an incredible support system (shout-out Wilson and my family) I was able to figure things out and am happily (and somewhat successfully) enjoying my academic path. One of the difficulties of rectifying past academic wrongs was maintaining an involvement in extra- curricular activities. While in years past I was able to stay involved, this year I let everything on my plate overwhelm me. I messed up, and was unable to keep commitments and promises to those who had time and again been understanding and generous. For that I am truly sorry.
Mea Culpa aside, as my time here at Hopkins winds down it is exciting to look forward. I’m currently on the waiting list for a Philosophy PhD program at UMass Amherst, and have offers for positions at various terminal Masters programs. I’m lucky to have such incredible options, all of which would be particularly exciting to further develop my research interests in epistemology. It is scary as things are coming to a close. For one, there’s a ton of work. I’m finishing up my thesis, my DURA project, as well as term papers for two graduate seminars. The work is exciting, my love for philosophy has not certainly not waned. Nonetheless the work is challenging. Additionally, the knowledge that my incredible friends will be scattered further than the half mile radius we’ve enjoyed for the past four years is saddening. One of the biggest blessings of college is to have pretty much your entire social life in walking distance. It’s also scary knowing that I’ll be leaving a city I’ve grown to love. A city with which I’ve grown exceptionally comfortable. I’m always excited for something new, but change can be scary and it isn’t always good.
To close on some corny, overly optimistic, and yet somehow prescient advice it is a blessing to have had something which makes moving on so difficult. These past four years have been challenging, but without those challenges I know I would not be the man I am today. Those challenges forged friendships, solidified my sense of self, and widened my academic interests. The next step will invariably be difficult and foreign. I’m lucky to have had such an incredible opportunity to prepare for it, and to have incredible friends and loved ones who will make this and all future transitions easier.