The following is the prepared text of the address delivered by Rachel Chen ’24, senior class president, at Kenyon’s 196th Commencement on May 18, 2024.
I stand here today, extremely thankful to all other undergraduate institutions for the stingier financial aid packages, waitlists and rejections they had gifted the lifelong friends I’ve met at Kenyon College.
If I remember correctly, It was just yesterday that we made impressions on each other across plexiglass dividers. Then, as the unforgiving Ohio sun was beating down around noontime, I trekked to the KAC, sweat on my forehead and a prayer on my tongue, hoping that I would fail the first exam I ever took in college: the EverlyWell mail-in PCR test kit.
By dusk, the best library this campus has ever seen was resurrected. President Decatur left for a Night at the Museum. The mods were converted into dormitories: a smart move — I always slept better than I studied in those. By dawn, our slumber was accompanied by the ambient hum of greater construction. And this morning, a friendly stranger greeted me on Middle Path. I realized too late that it was Jack, from an old seminar. The bottom half of his face made him quite unrecognizable.
For such little time spent on the Hill, the Class of 2024 has accomplished many impressive feats. My classmates have won national titles, Goldwaters and Fulbrights, amongst many accomplishments that go unnoticed. Let’s also take a moment to recognize the last kind. Let’s applaud those who have braved New Side alone without anxiety. Those who learned the parking regulations. 8 a.m. lecture goers, in particular, those who secured Peirce breakfast beforehand. I accept them as my future employer.
Kenyon College. A beautiful commune where we practice independence, defined as having no chain stores within walkable distance. Stable housing and three meals a day are guaranteed to all residents, whose sole responsibilities are the pursuit of intellectual growth on weekdays and the pursuit of happiness on the weekends. At the end of this chapter, I come to the revelation that we’ve been in a utopia.
(I must admit) that my time perception may be a little impaired. All I know is that this morning, like yesterday, and the day before, I woke up with cautious optimism. It’s a brand new day. It is likely that I will brush my teeth. And have a cup of coffee. It is equally likely that the trajectory of my life path, human intimacy and societal infrastructures at large will be obstructed by a particular virion, mere nano-inches in radius.
We’ve heard a lot about unprecedented times. The Class of 2024 has paid little heed. Instead, we equip ourselves with a strong capacity to handle fear, change, beginnings and ends — truth be told, when have we ever heard about precedented times?