Dear Members of the Class of 2016,

As I sat out in the audience today (mind you, I wrote this article immediately following Washington & Jefferson College's commencement ceremony on May 21st), I found myself focusing large amounts of time on three different ideas.

The first thought came after viewing the list of names to be called. I found it to be quite interesting that I knew significantly fewer graduates than originally perceived. In actuality, even at a small college (W&J's graduating class of 2016 only had 287 students), it's nearly impossible to meet everyone, even when the liberal arts force you to take classes that are outside of your comfort zone. As a person who prides himself on knowing a lot of people, it was truly eye-opening.

To put this in perspective for all of you, this realization was made about my collegiate institution--the place that I have called "home" for the past three years. I wouldn't be surprised if even you--being a member of the class of 2016--didn't know everyone who received a diploma and entered adulthood alongside you today. What is it going to be like at the next stage of your lives?

Some of you are moving on to professional schools in your area of study or going to medical school or law school. While others are immediately jumping into the workforce. We've all experienced it before; however, once more you are a small fish in a large ocean, but this ocean is significantly more expansive than anything you've seen in the past. Even if you have your next move chosen and set in motion, this is exceedingly unsettling.

Then, my mind moved on to the second thought: that I am next. I, along with my fellow classmates, will be the next one to walk across that stage and into the real world. Our roots will again be pulled and planted elsewhere, where we will have to strive and grow as we have many times previously. But, this time, we don't have the liberty to make mistakes. Making mistakes in the real world means designing a faulty product or placing an innocent person in prison or losing a patient. "Everyone makes mistakes." While that may be true, mistakes after graduation have significantly harsher implications than getting a low grade on an exam or the backlash from bad decisions from weekend activities. I don't know that I'm ready for that quite yet. I can only imagine what it's like for each of you since this is your present situation.

And, then, a dear friend walked across stage and brought in my third and final thought coupled with two new emotions. You have finished your four (plus/minus 1) years. You don't have to wake up for 8AMs anymore. You don't have to fight the crowds at events anymore. You don't have to deal with the assembly-line food or the single-ply toilet paper or the small and uncomfortable beds anymore. You are finished and leaving, and we are left behind to mourn our loss.

While we are all adults and have the ability to pick up a phone and call each other, odds are that most of us won't. We won't see each other under the same circumstances or nearly with the same frequency. We won't be able to share stories whenever we want or be able to kick up our feet and grab a cold one to decompress from a tough week together. We won't be the same as we were before you walked across that stage for the final time.

But, I realized that it was foolish of me to be sad--that I needed to be happy for all of you. So, I replaced my sadness with elation. After all, you worked your asses off for that 20-pace walk. You deserved it and all of the accolades draped over your shoulders and pinned to your gowns. You made it. You survived.

I will forever hold onto and look fondly on the memories we have made with one another. I will continue or push people to continue the legacies that you all began. I will look forward to the prospect of reunions in the future...

...because this isn't "goodbye". It's "see you later".