Two years ago, I stood in Front Square and watched my sister embrace her last day in college. It was a euphoric, yet bittersweet moment. Hugs were exchanged and tears were shed, but the air was filled with a feeling of elation. Nostalgia mingled with pride upon reflection of the many days spent on the familiar campus, versus the restlessness and anticipation over the freedom and independence that were to follow.
It was easy to imagine myself within this scenario, laughing with friends and savouring the feeling of completion and the satisfaction of my time in Trinity. I wanted to experience it all, every admittedly cliché rite of passage – from obligatory pictures under the Campanile, to the final drinks in The Pavilion Bar (the Pav).
“As I waited for my faltering internet connection to load my essay submission, all I felt was a deep sense of disillusionment. There was no triumph, no sense of pride or fulfilment that I thought would accompany the completion of my degree.”
Instead, I submitted my last assignment, thus completing my time in Trinity at noon on a Tuesday, in my bedroom at home. As I waited for my faltering internet connection to load my essay submission, all I felt was a deep sense of disillusionment. There was no triumph, no sense of pride or fulfilment that I thought would accompany the completion of my degree. Rather than celebratory drinks with friends, I simply switched off my laptop and sat for a moment, absorbing the exhaustion and depletion that the past year had wrought.
Like many students, I left Dublin during the first wave of the pandemic to return to the safety and familiarity of my home. Within the rural countryside of Kilkenny, it was easier to forget about the chaos and disarray occurring globally, as the Covid-19 pandemic swept across the world, taking with it all semblance of structure and uniformity. Of course, this was aided by the fact that I couldn’t even access online classes due to my limited and inadequate internet connection, one of the few disadvantages of living rurally. Instead, for the next six months, I attempted to salvage the time I was losing as a result of the pandemic. My J1 visa was extended in favour of a local summer job and my days were spent lost in hopeful dreams of what life would be like come September and my return to college.
Yet as casualty numbers rose and further lockdowns loomed, a growing sense of unease and uncertainty lingered, ultimately fragmenting my plans for the future. Upon return to Trinity, the sense of comfort and familiarity that I craved was absent. Restricted from classes and distanced from friends, my final year in Trinity felt almost alien.
As I sat in my room, staring at my laptop day after day, it occurred to me how much of my time in Trinity was shaped by my experiences with those around me and the time we shared together. Without them, Trinity lacked the warmth and fondness it once held. As the campus stood bare, it became easier to justify my permanent departure from Dublin, by returning to study at home for a second and final year.
With this decision came new challenges. Suddenly, study and home had combined, creating a perpetual feeling of needing to work. If I wasn’t studying, I felt guilty for not studying and when I tried, I felt exhausted by the very prospect of class and assignments. As I spent hours in my room, scrutinising online notes and rewatching lectures, I still had no idea as to what I was working towards. In my mind, I had always envisaged myself taking a year out after graduation to travel and decide what I wanted to do with my life. With this option looking less and less certain, I feel cheated of my final year and of the prospect of having some say in my future. The safest option would be to return to College for postgraduate studies and wait out the pandemic, but with the disillusionment of online learning throughout the past year haunting my choice, it was difficult spending such copious amounts of money on a future I didn’t truly want.
“Now finished with College and still living at home, the question of what comes next exists in permanent residence within my mind.”
Now finished with College and still living at home, the question of what comes next exists in permanent residence within my mind. With my plans for travel and a year out now destabilised by the pandemic, turning to work immediately after my degree looks to be the unsavoury, yet sole option. Even within this, my choices as a graduate are compounded. With many companies working to rebuild following their own financial losses during the pandemic, finding work in my area of interest has proved cumbersome. Within a limited and more competitive market, the prospect of compromising ambition and passion in favour of availability appears more feasible than finding your dream career. Where the pursuit of security and stability triumphs that of your dreams, to label my departure from College as anti-climatic would be a colossal understatement.
I haven’t seen my sister in almost two years. Since her graduation, she has travelled, settling in Vietnam to work as a teacher and live independently. Accepting that those options may not be available to me has not been easy. While the future is still bright, it lacks the unbridled hope and curiosity it once had. Instead, it is masked with unease and even a slight sense of conformity, of needing to secure a future, as opposed to simply finding my stride in the world. And while my memories of my time in Trinity remain cherished, my recollection of my final year will forever hold a bittersweet longing, tainted by the prospect of what could have been.
