F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in “The Great Gatsby” that “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” I read the novel as a high school junior and chose this excerpt as my senior yearbook quote. Looking back on it, it seems like an odd and slightly pretentious choice, especially in my home state of California, a place not known for its impressive fall foliage.
When I picked that quote, I was anticipating four years far from the West Coast at a small New England liberal arts college with all four seasons. I vividly remember the stomach-churning excitement and nervousness of opening my admissions portals and being on the precipice of four of the “best years of my life.” Years later, as a college senior this fall, life doesn’t feel like it’s starting over again — it’s starting to feel like it’s ending.
I know that’s a wildly melodramatic statement and that life doesn’t end after college. I’ve been told numerous times by different people that, in so many ways, life will begin again after graduation. But unlike my senior year of high school, I’m not filled with that excited yearning for my next chapter. I feel like I’m already mourning something that hasn’t even ended yet. Although it can be challenging to think of what’s next, I need to remind myself that college isn’t in the rearview mirror yet.
Maybe, like Fitzgerald wrote, the fall brings out a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. I can’t help but think of time in seasons, and when looking back I think of myself last autumn. I reflect fondly on my junior fall: I had two years of Middlebury under my belt and had developed close friendships and coveted routines. I was eagerly looking forward to my spring semester abroad in Denmark. Only halfway through college, I had the comfort of a road map to take me through the months ahead and the excitement of knowing it would bring new adventures.
I blinked, and now I’m back on campus again, older and only a little bit wiser. For the first time since my senior year of high school, I don’t know where I’ll be this time next year. The unknown is nagging, gnawing and unsettling.
Like many of my peers, I’m shouldering a fifth class: figuring out my post-grad plans. Unfortunately, there’s no first-year seminar on that subject. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only person plagued with some Gen Z ennui, a feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction; I’ve sat around with various friends and tried to list cities I could see myself living in. My résumé is almost always open on my computer screen. I have an upcoming appointment with the Center for Careers and Internships. I’m jealous of those who know where they’ll be and what they’ll be doing next year, including my senior Feb friends.
In addition to “The Great Gatsby”, I read Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar” as a high school junior (clearly it was an influential year of reading). There is a beautiful passage about the protagonist sitting underneath a fig tree, gazing up at all the fruit and imagining various futures. She is paralyzed by the number of paths she has and cannot pick anything as she watches the figs wither and rot on the ground. As a soon-to-be graduate, Plath’s image rings in my brain, painfully close to home.
I’m aware it’s easy to look back at the rearview mirror with rose-colored glasses. I don’t want to overly romanticize my time at Middlebury, where I experienced plenty of homesickness, anxiety, FOMO and imposter syndrome (I’m looking at you, sophomore spring). Mention fall 2020 to me, and I want to plug my ears. The first semester of college is difficult enough without a pandemic that mandates social distancing and isolation.
But after spending the last nine months away from campus, I’ve returned with a renewed appreciation for Middlebury. I missed my favorite aspects of student life here: living close to my friends, walking into town, vibrant seasons, clubs and activities. I will miss having such easy access to a climbing wall, gyms, hiking trails, libraries, a radio studio, music and comedy performances and a ceramics studio. As taxing as schoolwork can be, I know my days won’t always be filled with interesting, intellectually stimulating readings or conversations with peers and professors.
Many intrusive voices are jostling for air time in my brain, reminding me that it’s my last _________ (fill in the blank: September, fall concert, Halloween, etc.) as a Middlebury student. As an emotional and sentimental person, it’s hard to reconcile all the changes that my impending crossroad brings.
While I’m constantly reminiscing about the past and trying to concoct a future, I need to remember that I’m still here and there are so many special things about senior year that lie before me. Four years ago, I was aimlessly trying to pick a major, and now I’m working on my senior environmental writing thesis. Walking into a crowded Crossroads or Proctor, I recognize the warm faces of friends, classmates and teammates. I treasure spontaneous late-night talks, maple lattes and rejuvenating long walks. The way the Green Mountains glow purple in the early evening never ceases to captivate me as I hustle to dinner. Time here is not without its challenges, but at 21, I navigate Middlebury more easily and confidently than ever before.
I talk to prospective students weekly at the admissions office, a job that constantly has me looking backward at my timid high school self who toured Middlebury five and a half years ago. I still remember that person’s jumble of emotions about college, from naivete to nervousness to enthusiasm, and college has fostered so much personal development in just three years. My current self, thankfully, still has a few more months of growth at Middlebury. I’m not ready to leave this chapter behind yet, but I hope that by the time May comes, I’ll be ready to let go.
Charlie Keohane is a member of the class of 2024 and an Editor at Large for The Campus.
Charlie Keohane ’24 (she/her) is an Editor at Large. She previously served as the SGA Correspondent and a Senior Writer.
She is an environmental writing major and a psychology minor from Northern California. Outside of academics, Charlie is a Senior Admissions Fellow at the Middlebury Admissions Office. She also is involved with the women’s track team and hosts Witching Hour, a radio show on 91.1 WRMC. In Spring 2023, she studied abroad in Copenhagen, Denmark. In her free time, she enjoys hiking, watching Greta Gerwig movies, polar plunging, sending snail mail, and FaceTiming her rescue dog, Poppy.
