Up until last week, a letter lay unopened in the pocket of my ukulele case. The letter was written in New York City, one breezy May evening in Bryant Park. After the letter was placed in an envelope and the envelope's flap inserted inside it to prevent it from opening, the letter was carried through a multitude of airports and train stations over the course of three years. It lay just underneath my passport case, little rips developing in its corners from the commotion of items being placed inside and taken out of the pocket it occupied. The letter passed through the homes of host families in Katowice, Cochabamba, and Kigali. It sat upon a rooftop terrace in Vienna. It sailed down the Nile River. But it was never reopened.
On the envelope's face was written, "to open on May 24, 2018," and last week, the day to reveal its contents to me had finally arrived.
The letter in question was a letter I had written to myself in the company of one of my closest friends at the end of my freshman year at Harvard. I had intended to open it on the day of my graduation. However, I didn't specify whether I wanted it to be opened at the beginning of the day or at the end after the festivities were over, and I ended up opening it at the "wrong" time. Oops. I know this now because the letter opens with, "Hey future me – So you're about to receive that Harvard diploma, are you? That's hardcore." (When I first opened the letter and started reading it, I was sitting on my bed later in the evening, after it had already gotten dark, in the company of my sister and my boyfriend.)
While pondering what to write this more reflective entry about, I realized that I could have a lot of work cut out for me and use the letter I wrote to myself as a prompt. I decided, then, that I should write my impressions of it, and include snippets of it while answering some of the questions the past me asked the future–now present–me.
To be completely honest, I didn't forget every single thing I had written. There were a few things I remembered, and nothing I had written really surprised me. What did come somewhat unexpectedly was how mature I already sounded, and open to significant change in the years ahead despite thinking I had everything planned at first. I felt pretty proud of past me for that. As I did indeed write: I'm very eager to see what ends up happening and what I end up doing. It's awfully hard to predict, considering how much my thoughts have changed throughout freshman year.
I don't want to copy the entire letter here just so only I can know the complete contents of it, but there are some notable excerpts which I would like to respond to now (especially because I ask a lot of questions throughout the entire piece).
...I believe in the self that I want to become. Take a look at yourself and what you have done, future me. Was I right to believe in you? To believe that throughout your years at Harvard you would live a life beyond your wildest imaginations? As I find myself saying a lot lately, "A girl can dream."
And dream she damn well did, past me. You were right to believe in me. Just read the entries in this blog. I'll make reference to some of them in the rest of this post.
Think back on the summer between junior and senior year. What'd you end up doing? I like to think you conducted thesis research somewhere cool. Whatever you did, I trust you made the most of it.
Oh, past me. If only I could have told you how in love you would fall with Bolivia and how you would so badly want to go back that you made it your home that summer to do thesis research. I would probably avoid telling you about the nasty NGO conflict and drama you got implicated in, though.
How about junior spring? I, your past self, have my heart set on spending that semester abroad. Did you? Did another country (in the long list of countries you've accumulated) steal your heart? ... So yeah, think back on that semester. If I knew now what I'd end up doing then, how do you think I would feel?
Rwanda. You went to Rwanda. Kind of random, I know. Remember that class you took, "Introduction to African Languages and Cultures," and how you had a cool TF who did his dissertation research there? You ended up having him as a TF in yet another class and heard more about Rwanda, and you also ended up becoming good friends with a Rwandan classmate, and you decided that you should go and found a cool program to go. I think you'd feel pretty quizzical but down for it.
...I want to make some speculations about the summer that's about to arrive. Remember, the summer before your sophomore year? Well, I'm super excited to return to Poland, and by a completely random turn of events, too. Fate is lovely. I haven't told Natalia, as I want to surprise her (hope that worked out).
It did.
While I'm still at this single-since-birth state, I can at least dream that you've found someone to pour your heart into loving, even if it didn't last. Someone to have felt the same of you for at least a little while.
You stay single-since-birth for a little while longer, and it will continue to suck for a little while longer, but you will meet someone who will have made staying hopelessly single that long worth it. And you will go to Mexico City for spring break together, which will be lots of fun.
Overall, I think your first year at Harvard was definitely one worth remembering. The good, and the bad. And to think it's all written down in your journal (a habit I'm assuming you're still keeping).
Yes, don't worry, I'm still keeping that habit! In December this year we'll be celebrating ten years of it.
I can't stand being in the same place for too long. I'm obsessed with New York and Paris. ...I currently have the goal of living in every inhabited continent (except Australia, for now) before I graduate from Harvard. At this point I have South America and Africa left. ... I want to learn even more languages–which ones can you speak now?
Ahh, past me. Maybe you'll be a bit disappointed to find that I have mellowed out a bit. After fulfilling the goal of living in South America (for thesis research) and Africa (for a semester abroad), you will feel a bit tired and like you need to "settle down" somewhere for a little bit. You won't apply to any postgrad traveling fellowships because you realize what you want right now is to get a little work experience and try to live independently because you still don't know how to cook. And that's perfectly okay. You will have had a great run.
You'll also be a little more cynical about the ideas of New York and Paris. You will be much, much more "woke" (as the kids say these days) and conscious about the world, rather than the middle schooler who would romanticize the idea of these cities. You will still love these cities, but also be more cognizant of their flaws. You will also love the chaos of other cities you will set foot in, even if you won't necessarily want to live in them and make yourself a home there.
Anyway, thanks to a stint in Vienna, you speak decent German. You can also kind of speak Kinyarwanda now, which is pretty cool.
As you remember back to this beautiful, breezy evening in New York, what would you tell me? What would you wish I knew now?
In senior spring, a girl in the class of 2018 started this wonderful initiative called the Senior Reflections Book. Conveniently, you will answer the question "What would you tell your first-year self?" and then post it on this blog right before publishing this current entry so you can refer to it here.
What even are you going to do after you leave Harvard??
OMG, I'm asking myself the same thing!!
The more serious answer is, "go on a vacation. God knows you need it."
Look back on your life–growing up in the Philippines, immigrating to Oregon, spending a year abroad in France, entering Harvard–and how you continually lived your motto of living a life worth writing about because all you have is your story. Because you, Amanda Flores who's about to receive that diploma from Harvard University, have one hell of an amazing story to share.
Make us proud, and CONGRATULATIONS!!
♥,
your past self.
Reading this made me cry. But my sob session didn't last too long because my sister and boyfriend were also in my room occupied with other things and not really paying attention to me, so that helped.
Another thing in the envelope that I had actually forgotten about was a postcard I got from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston on May 8, 2015. It showed a painting of a lighthouse in Maine, done by Edward Hopper in 1927. Here is an image of the painting.
What ended up being really funny is that my parents had planned to make a day trip to Maine on the day after I graduated, obviously unbeknownst to me in May 2015 (I imagine I put it in because I like lighthouses and the ocean). It was kind of a creepy premonition on the part of past me, and I really enjoyed this little easter egg that the envelope contained.
Here's a picture of my family and boyfriend visiting the same lighthouse! And a more close-up picture of me by it.
All in all, quite the serendipitous incident. I had lots of those throughout my Harvard career, so it was only fitting for this lighthouse thing to cap it all off.
The day after we visited Portland, Maine from Boston, my family and I flew to the other Portland (the real one) on the other side of the USA, where I have been for a few days now. I don't think I have fully processed that graduation and everything happened, but more than that, I feel like I have closed things off well. It'd be nice to know what I'll be doing next in the immediate future, but in a way, not knowing makes me feel more relaxed. That's all I really need for the moment, anyway.
For now, I welcome spending time relaxing at home with my family (as much as it can be hectic in its own way), catching up on sleep, TV, and things in Oregon I have missed, as well as reading for fun (what a concept!). I will also study for the LSAT at some point which is maybe not as chill but at least I don't have a full load of classes alongside it, so I know I'll be fine. Later this summer, I will be traveling a bit, but before I get into that I will stop myself here and congratulate myself once more on a job well done: on this blog entry (celebrate the little things), my undergraduate career, and making past me proud. Now on to make present and future me proud...
On the envelope's face was written, "to open on May 24, 2018," and last week, the day to reveal its contents to me had finally arrived.
The letter in question was a letter I had written to myself in the company of one of my closest friends at the end of my freshman year at Harvard. I had intended to open it on the day of my graduation. However, I didn't specify whether I wanted it to be opened at the beginning of the day or at the end after the festivities were over, and I ended up opening it at the "wrong" time. Oops. I know this now because the letter opens with, "Hey future me – So you're about to receive that Harvard diploma, are you? That's hardcore." (When I first opened the letter and started reading it, I was sitting on my bed later in the evening, after it had already gotten dark, in the company of my sister and my boyfriend.)
While pondering what to write this more reflective entry about, I realized that I could have a lot of work cut out for me and use the letter I wrote to myself as a prompt. I decided, then, that I should write my impressions of it, and include snippets of it while answering some of the questions the past me asked the future–now present–me.
To be completely honest, I didn't forget every single thing I had written. There were a few things I remembered, and nothing I had written really surprised me. What did come somewhat unexpectedly was how mature I already sounded, and open to significant change in the years ahead despite thinking I had everything planned at first. I felt pretty proud of past me for that. As I did indeed write: I'm very eager to see what ends up happening and what I end up doing. It's awfully hard to predict, considering how much my thoughts have changed throughout freshman year.
I don't want to copy the entire letter here just so only I can know the complete contents of it, but there are some notable excerpts which I would like to respond to now (especially because I ask a lot of questions throughout the entire piece).
...I believe in the self that I want to become. Take a look at yourself and what you have done, future me. Was I right to believe in you? To believe that throughout your years at Harvard you would live a life beyond your wildest imaginations? As I find myself saying a lot lately, "A girl can dream."
And dream she damn well did, past me. You were right to believe in me. Just read the entries in this blog. I'll make reference to some of them in the rest of this post.
Think back on the summer between junior and senior year. What'd you end up doing? I like to think you conducted thesis research somewhere cool. Whatever you did, I trust you made the most of it.
Oh, past me. If only I could have told you how in love you would fall with Bolivia and how you would so badly want to go back that you made it your home that summer to do thesis research. I would probably avoid telling you about the nasty NGO conflict and drama you got implicated in, though.
How about junior spring? I, your past self, have my heart set on spending that semester abroad. Did you? Did another country (in the long list of countries you've accumulated) steal your heart? ... So yeah, think back on that semester. If I knew now what I'd end up doing then, how do you think I would feel?
Rwanda. You went to Rwanda. Kind of random, I know. Remember that class you took, "Introduction to African Languages and Cultures," and how you had a cool TF who did his dissertation research there? You ended up having him as a TF in yet another class and heard more about Rwanda, and you also ended up becoming good friends with a Rwandan classmate, and you decided that you should go and found a cool program to go. I think you'd feel pretty quizzical but down for it.
...I want to make some speculations about the summer that's about to arrive. Remember, the summer before your sophomore year? Well, I'm super excited to return to Poland, and by a completely random turn of events, too. Fate is lovely. I haven't told Natalia, as I want to surprise her (hope that worked out).
It did.
While I'm still at this single-since-birth state, I can at least dream that you've found someone to pour your heart into loving, even if it didn't last. Someone to have felt the same of you for at least a little while.
You stay single-since-birth for a little while longer, and it will continue to suck for a little while longer, but you will meet someone who will have made staying hopelessly single that long worth it. And you will go to Mexico City for spring break together, which will be lots of fun.
Overall, I think your first year at Harvard was definitely one worth remembering. The good, and the bad. And to think it's all written down in your journal (a habit I'm assuming you're still keeping).
Yes, don't worry, I'm still keeping that habit! In December this year we'll be celebrating ten years of it.
I can't stand being in the same place for too long. I'm obsessed with New York and Paris. ...I currently have the goal of living in every inhabited continent (except Australia, for now) before I graduate from Harvard. At this point I have South America and Africa left. ... I want to learn even more languages–which ones can you speak now?
Ahh, past me. Maybe you'll be a bit disappointed to find that I have mellowed out a bit. After fulfilling the goal of living in South America (for thesis research) and Africa (for a semester abroad), you will feel a bit tired and like you need to "settle down" somewhere for a little bit. You won't apply to any postgrad traveling fellowships because you realize what you want right now is to get a little work experience and try to live independently because you still don't know how to cook. And that's perfectly okay. You will have had a great run.
You'll also be a little more cynical about the ideas of New York and Paris. You will be much, much more "woke" (as the kids say these days) and conscious about the world, rather than the middle schooler who would romanticize the idea of these cities. You will still love these cities, but also be more cognizant of their flaws. You will also love the chaos of other cities you will set foot in, even if you won't necessarily want to live in them and make yourself a home there.
Anyway, thanks to a stint in Vienna, you speak decent German. You can also kind of speak Kinyarwanda now, which is pretty cool.
As you remember back to this beautiful, breezy evening in New York, what would you tell me? What would you wish I knew now?
In senior spring, a girl in the class of 2018 started this wonderful initiative called the Senior Reflections Book. Conveniently, you will answer the question "What would you tell your first-year self?" and then post it on this blog right before publishing this current entry so you can refer to it here.
What even are you going to do after you leave Harvard??
OMG, I'm asking myself the same thing!!
The more serious answer is, "go on a vacation. God knows you need it."
Look back on your life–growing up in the Philippines, immigrating to Oregon, spending a year abroad in France, entering Harvard–and how you continually lived your motto of living a life worth writing about because all you have is your story. Because you, Amanda Flores who's about to receive that diploma from Harvard University, have one hell of an amazing story to share.
Make us proud, and CONGRATULATIONS!!
♥,
your past self.
Reading this made me cry. But my sob session didn't last too long because my sister and boyfriend were also in my room occupied with other things and not really paying attention to me, so that helped.
Another thing in the envelope that I had actually forgotten about was a postcard I got from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston on May 8, 2015. It showed a painting of a lighthouse in Maine, done by Edward Hopper in 1927. Here is an image of the painting.
What ended up being really funny is that my parents had planned to make a day trip to Maine on the day after I graduated, obviously unbeknownst to me in May 2015 (I imagine I put it in because I like lighthouses and the ocean). It was kind of a creepy premonition on the part of past me, and I really enjoyed this little easter egg that the envelope contained.
Here's a picture of my family and boyfriend visiting the same lighthouse! And a more close-up picture of me by it.
All in all, quite the serendipitous incident. I had lots of those throughout my Harvard career, so it was only fitting for this lighthouse thing to cap it all off.
The day after we visited Portland, Maine from Boston, my family and I flew to the other Portland (the real one) on the other side of the USA, where I have been for a few days now. I don't think I have fully processed that graduation and everything happened, but more than that, I feel like I have closed things off well. It'd be nice to know what I'll be doing next in the immediate future, but in a way, not knowing makes me feel more relaxed. That's all I really need for the moment, anyway.
For now, I welcome spending time relaxing at home with my family (as much as it can be hectic in its own way), catching up on sleep, TV, and things in Oregon I have missed, as well as reading for fun (what a concept!). I will also study for the LSAT at some point which is maybe not as chill but at least I don't have a full load of classes alongside it, so I know I'll be fine. Later this summer, I will be traveling a bit, but before I get into that I will stop myself here and congratulate myself once more on a job well done: on this blog entry (celebrate the little things), my undergraduate career, and making past me proud. Now on to make present and future me proud...
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