Dear 2015 Classmates, I sincerely hope that two or five or seven years down the line, when we inevitably run into each other on the World Wide Web, we remember more than what’s simply bullet-pointed under our fancy job titles, or lied about on our OkCupid profiles that we will surely get after the ink on our first divorce agreements dries. Graduation marks the day after which we will be forced to answer the grim question, “what do you do?” continuously for the rest of our lives as we try to pack who and what we are into neatly worded one-liners. The thing is, I didn’t really care what you did or even what your major was while you were at Vassar (sorry, I only asked out of etiquette). You were the kid in the library that was always annoyingly too loud but actually quite funny; you were the kid with the kindest eyes and the biggest backpack; you were the nice punk type reading in the grass who always gave me snacks; you were the outspoken girl in my class who inspired me with your knack for argumentation; you were the girl who stole beers from my fridge but I forgave because of that other time you reminded me about our Spanish test el proxima dia. And good or bad, weird or otherwise, this is how I choose to remember you all. Who you are violently defies the confines of your social media profiles. Up until now, grown-ups have mostly asked us what we want to do, or what we see ourselves doing, and this gives us some freedom to imagine different, fascinating versions of ourselves. But Cara, you might say, maybe it’s time for you to stop referring to adults as grownups? Perhaps you’re right, but at least as long as I refuse to label myself as a grown-up, I don’t feel the need to identify myself or any of you by where we work, what our job titles are, or our dateability as determined by OkCupid, and that gives me some peace of mind. Also, shout out to my Mom, love you!
—Cara Hunt is the outgoing President of the Town Students.
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