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Life after Princeton: Find meaning in the mundane

commencement-old-nassau-angel-kuo
To close off Commencement, undergraduates and graduate students alike sang to Old Nassau one last time before receiving their diplomas.
Angel Kuo / The Daily Princetonian

The following is a guest contribution and reflects the author’s views alone. For information on how to submit a piece to the Opinion section, click here.

I graduated from Princeton during the pandemic. I remember being excited to have recently joined the Terrace F. Club and to work on my junior paper before suddenly being kicked off campus and thrown into two years of uncertainty. Throughout that time of change and isolation, I had a lot of time to think about what a meaningful life might look like for me. 

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I discovered that my answer to what a meaningful life should be is this: As long as I have a roof over my head and my bills are paid, with a little fun money here and there, I can find happiness anywhere. And while I believe this to be true, I often wonder whether this approach is really making the most of my life after the Princeton experience.

The truth is meaning can be found in all forms of life. There never was — or is — a singular right way to live one’s life. Having a Princeton degree doesn't change this reality. Princeton’s privilege will always be a part of our lives, but the many ways in which we choose to go forth after this experience all deserve the same validation and appreciation, regardless of how they differ from the ‘ideal’ of an Ivy League graduate. Especially for the mundane. 

In talking to some of my fellow Princeton grads, the feeling that we are not living up to our Princeton degrees or that we are somehow behind in life seems to be a commonly held anxiety. Many of our classmates are making obscene amounts of money right out of undergrad, marrying their Princeton sweethearts, becoming social media stars, being named Forbes 30 under 30 recipients, and so much more. If they were able to accomplish all of this soon after leaving Princeton, what are we doing wrong? 

Earlier this year, Nicholas Tippenhauer, Assistant Dean for Studies in Rockefeller College, published an article on dealing with the pressures of being a student while worrying about success during and after Princeton. As a fellow FLI graduate and Questbridge scholar, the experiences he detailed resonated with me beyond words, and got me thinking about what success means to me — as well as the undue pressure we place on ourselves so soon after completing one of the most challenging educational experiences in the country. 

While I am a content creator, I realized that a lot of my feelings of inadequacy are sourced from the very thing I love — social media. Every day we see seemingly everyone around us traveling to some new destination or celebrating some new life milestone we have yet to hit. Hundreds of likes and comments support the image of ourselves that we present to the world. However, it’s just that: an image. We choose what we want to share with the world, regardless whether it’s positive or negative. I have to accept that comparing myself to other alumni on social media is a never-ending battle that does not really define my success. 

Coming from a tiny town in Arkansas, Princeton was a surprise for me. Though my mama always supported my passions, regardless of what they were, and saw Princeton as a blessing, it was only after coming to Princeton that the pressure of success made me question my decision to major in Music. Then after graduating, I felt like I wasn’t a “good” music major for not creating music or working in a music-related field. Once again I felt like I was not living up to my Princeton degree for majoring in a less lucrative area of study and working in a field different than my major, a sentiment I’ve heard from other Princeton alumni.

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But what I have learned is that even if my life isn’t flashy, it isn’t without fulfillment.

I’m doing work that I love in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusions (DEI) at another institution while also making time to perform when I can. I have a roof over my head, my bills are paid, and my cat is well-fed and happy. I was able to finance a car with my own big girl credit and career, something my family could only dream of. 

For many of us, especially first-generation Princeton alumni, there was no foundation to build our idea of success on. While others have had generations of a head start, our stories are just now beginning. And what a powerful story we are creating by celebrating our seemingly mundane lives by being able to provide for ourselves and our family.

This is not all to say that everything has been easy. I’m single with an abysmal dating life and am still actively working to make friends and find community as an adult. Some paychecks go a little further than others. Sometimes it’s hard to get out of bed in the morning and feel like I’m doing enough. But what matters most to me is that I’m happy. 

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While it can be important to strive for more, it is more important to be able to revel in your happiness. With such great pressure to live up to Princeton’s name as an alum, it is important to appreciate the beautifully mundane and unremarkable. Moments like when you pay your rent and treat yourself to coffee afterward. Or when you complete your assignments on time for your graduate program, or when you go out of your comfort zone on a Hinge date — and it is hilariously bad. There is so much beauty in just existing as you are. 

Greatness is subjective, and if that’s what you seek, it will come. But for now? Enjoy the little victories in life that make the experience of being human, human. I’m proud of all of you for surviving the turmoil of Princeton, and now tackling adulthood one day at a time. Don’t sell yourself short by comparison, the thief of joy. Greet everyday as you can, and know, there’s always someone — a random stranger writing this article — rooting for you in the beautifully mundane.

Kirsten Keels ’21 is currently a Program Manager for the Center of Equity, Inclusion, and Community and the Bard Queer Leadership Project at Bard College at Simon’s Rock. As an undergraduate she was a Music major and a Mathey RCA. She can be reached at: kkeels@simons-rock.edu.