Three Years and Six Lessons Later

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” — T. S. Eliot

At last, we have reached that time of year when some of us must say goodbye. For me, and for the rest of the graduating class of 2026, this next month will be a period of reflection as we play back memories from the last three or four years and think about how much has changed, how different we are from the people who first arrived here. 

I remember my first week at Stern, when I could not find my classrooms and kept bursting in late. I remember how the buildings felt strange and cold, how the faces seemed alien to me, how high school still felt so close and the upperclassmen still felt so old. Now, I am in their place, and as my time here comes to a close, I am reflecting on the things I have done and the lessons I have learned.There are many, but for my final word to our readers, I want to share a few of the ones that stayed with me most.

1. Take risks 

College demands — and rewards — a certain willingness to say yes. During my time at Stern, I took internships without much reassurance that the places hiring me were even fully legitimate and some turned out to be the most rewarding and exciting experiences I have had. I also signed up for clubs because their names made me laugh, took classes purely because the titles intrigued me and covered stories without knowing where they would lead. When the weather was above 30 degrees (which was rare this year, wasn’t it??), I tried to see new parts of the city, eat new foods and walk through neighborhoods I had never been to before. Not every risk pays off, and not every decision becomes defining, but college is one of the few times in life when spontaneity is part of the experience. I learned to lean into that.

2. Learn to say no

There’s a caveat, of course, and spontaneity has its limits. With the world suddenly at my fingertips and everyone urging me to “get involved,” I certainly felt the pressure to sign up for more than I could manage. Sadly, many of the clubs my friends and I joined wound up becoming little more than muted group chats and pinging texts we ignored. I never made it to a single meeting of the pickle club, or the fishing club, or the film club, or the cheese club.

What I ultimately learned is that when it comes to involvement, quality matters more than quantity. Leaving myself enough time and energy to dedicate to the jobs, classes and activities I actually cared about was not only a better use of my time, but a more honest reflection of what I was really working toward. Plus, it was way less stressful. 

3. Close your laptops 

This next lesson was learned regrettably late, but, nevertheless, deserves to be shared. Barring the necessity of laptops for quick and speedy notetaking, I have found that they are, more than anything, extremely distracting. This year, I vowed to use mine in class as little as possible. 

Taking out a notebook when the rest of my class was sucked into the internet felt a bit try-hard and embarrassing at first. But suddenly, I was leaving classes with more than a handful of lines and facts swirling in my head. I became a more engaged, excitable student, when I had my notebook out. I had what to respond with when my parents asked what my tuition was going towards. 

I understand that not everyone is tempted by their open tabs, but I, sadly, am not one of those people. And judging from my favorite seat in the back-left corner — many of us are in the same boat. At the risk of sounding overly preachy, I urge readers to learn from my mistakes, as I have and continue to, and close those laptops.

4. Resist judgement 

It’s tempting to think the opposite, but hear me when I say this: nobody cares. Enough said. 

5. Surround yourself with people who share your passions 

Reducing my experience at The Commentator to a bullet point in a longer list of things that shaped my college experience feels insufficient. One day I’d like to write something fuller, something dedicated to the mentors, writers and board members who made my last three years what they were and helped lay the foundation for everything that comes next. For now, I’ll say this.

I joined The Commentator in 2023 as a staff writer mostly as a resume booster, something to pad my CV so I could point to experience when applying for summer internships. What I didn’t expect was how much it would demand of me. I learned how to be a reporter, how to be an editor, how to be part of a team of students who care deeply about getting things right. And then, at some point, I had to learn how to lead. As I worked my way up the editorial board, I found myself repeating lines of encouragement that former editors had said to me over the years and gradually filling a role I never thought I had the capabilities to manage. Truthfully, there are not nearly enough words to express my gratitude to the people who edited my drafts, talked me through research, complimented my work and pushed me when I needed it. None of them were paid to do any of it, but they did it, and still do, because they genuinely care about the work. 

At the risk of not having another opportunity to say this publicly: thank you Hadassah for your unyielding patience, persistence and passion as you led the paper this year. You taught me, and the whole Commentator board, how to lead with kindness and empathy, how to make the people you work with feel cared for and respected and how to stay calm in the face of mounting pressure and responsibility. It was a pleasure helping you tackle Issue No. 91. Thank you for everything.

And now, a shameless plug because I can’t resist. If you will be on campus next Fall, like writing or want to join a group of students who still care about student journalism, please do not hesitate to apply to join The Commentator. It will be the best decision you ever make!

6. Never cease exploring

It is tempting to come to the end of my time at YU and declare that my exploration has ended and that I have finally arrived, as T.S. Eliot writes, “to know the place for the first time.” But I cannot honestly say that I fully have, nor have I, as Eliot surely meant, fully come to know myself yet. 

Still, there is truth in the sentiment. In the three years I have worked and studied at YU, I helped cover debates surrounding the inclusion of LGBTQ students in our community, followed YU’s finances and ongoing lawsuits and reported as war raged in Israel and, in smaller but still painful ways, reached our streets in New York. Through it all, I, too, came to know myself more deeply and grew in more ways than I can count. Nevertheless, there is still more work to be done. 

The final lesson I wish to impart is simple: never stop exploring. For those who will carry the torch at The Commentator, that means remaining curious, engaged and invested in this institution and what it means both to the students who spend some of their most formative years here and to the broader Jewish community shaped by it. And for those graduating alongside me, it means never losing the sense of freedom and curiosity that college instills in us. There is more work to be done, more joy to be felt and many more stories waiting to be uncovered.