If words were miles, my columns would very nearly wrap around the world. I’ve penned 23,994 words since my first Orient column was published in September 2011, and I have grappled with a wide range of issues, from my hatred of the penny to Swedish trash incineration, the symbolism of divestment and the death penalty. Sometimes I have come across as too harsh in my criticism of the U.S., and it may have seemed as though I was like so many Europeans: convinced that this country should just listen to and accept the wisdom of its Old World cousins. In truth, if I criticized the US it was because I believe this is a country with boundless, untapped potential and it frustrates me to see what I know are wasted opportunities. 

It reassures me, then, to know that I will be graduating alongside close to 500 people whose time at Bowdoin has prepared them to do exceptional things. I am also pleased to be graduating with, so to speak, a man who has done a great deal to advance the cause of his college and of the liberal arts education. Barry Mills may not be liked by everyone in the Bowdoin community, but he should be, at the very least, commended for sticking to his principles. Like President Mills, we have gained the skills to challenge preconceptions and advocate for our own knowledge.

As our time at Bowdoin winds down, I find myself wondering how my peers and I will remember the “best four years” of our lives. When we meet again in years to come, what will be the moments that defined “our” Bowdoin? What will we take away from the small liberal arts college with the cult-like sun symbol? We will all be leaving with different memories of this place: some are positive, others less so. I know seniors who couldn’t be happier to be leaving and I know seniors who undoubtedly will be crying at graduation, shedding tears for an end that came too soon. However we may feel about our time at Bowdoin, we are all brought together and separated by the memories we have made here. I can’t say that I will miss the smell of the pines, or a sweaty party in the basement of a social house, or swimming in Greason pool, or the creak of the floorboards in the room on the top floor of Massachusetts Hall; those experiences are not my Bowdoin. 

My Bowdoin is late evenings working in the Shannon Room, the musky scent of old LPs in the WBOR studios, a breeze on the quad on a hot September day, going to class on skis, stargazing through a telescope in the fields behind Farley. Each of us has created our own image of Bowdoin: for all the commonalities that bring our graduating class together, it is the differences that have made our Bowdoin exciting. 

As Eric Edelman wrote two years ago, there is little use in agonizing about what might have been: so what if I’ve never taken a psych class? So what if you never climbed Katahdin? When we walk up to receive our diplomas in three weeks’ time, we should do so without regrets. 

We cannot be burdened by our mistakes: let the past remain there and may our success carry us forward. These four years have given us extraordinary tools to take on new challenges and I am excited to see what the Class of 2015 will make of the confused and chaotic world beyond the Bowdoin Bubble. 

Friends, it has been my pleasure getting to know many of you since we first assembled on the quad at the end of August four years ago. I wish you all the very best, wherever you may go. Thank you for making this, truly, the best four years of my life. Good-bye for now, and good luck.