Last Night
what will I remember about MIT?
I have only pulled an all-nighter twice in my life. The first time was last May, when I talked with two friends in the French House kitchen until 7 a.m., something that I didn’t expect to happen; I seldom had conversations that went on for hours. The second time happened on the last day of May this year because it was the last night for me to spend time with my senior friends before moving out.
Unlike my first all-nighter, I kind of expected the second one to happen. Everyone was leaving the next day, which meant that there was very little time left to spend time together. I knew that a late-night conversation would mess up my sleep schedule, but I wanted to spend the last hours with my senior friends. Although I would get to see some of them on campus this summer, the late-night conversation would help bring about closure, a nice way to conclude the academic year before the start of my summer internship.
In the days leading up to my second all-nighter, I experienced this weird feeling that time was running out at a rate faster than I’d like. Perhaps this warped perception of time came from being the only non-senior French House resident out of the eleven who stayed for commencement. Hearing my senior friends talk about their last semesters and futures made me enter the mindset of a soon-to-be graduate, even though I have one more year of undergrad.
Watching my friends graduate and say goodbye felt like a simulation of Senior Week for me, except I did it one year ahead. I saw them process their last week as a list of lasts. Last time hanging out with podmates.[1] Last walk to Symphony Hall. Last night in French House. I didn’t need to complete everything on my bucket list now or say goodbye yet, but I couldn’t resist thinking about how little time I had left in college.
The conversation didn’t start until after midnight because everyone was busy packing the remaining items in the French House kitchen. After moving the boxes to the storage room, I decided to return to the kitchen so I could hang out with seven seniors who decided to stay awake instead of going to bed.
We played hot seat until sometime around 3:30 in the morning, the eight of us in a circle, having conversations that we wouldn’t have over the dinner table. Instead of asking hard questions right away, we chose to start with simple questions at the start, then ramp up the intensity ever so slightly after each round. While we called the game “hot seat,” all we did was ask questions that we never got the chance to ask before, having vulnerable and engaging conversations to understand one another better.
I lost track of time when I played hot seat with my friends, answering burning questions they had for me. At the same time, I learned a lot about my friends that I never knew before, such as relationships with their family and significant others. Other times, I laughed when my friends shared funny and entertaining stories, from desperately finding a bathroom in Pittsburgh to having too many Long Island iced teas.
By 3:30 a.m., a lot of people were tired and decided to say goodnight and end the conversation. Instead of going to sleep, I decided to finish packing. In hindsight, leaving a few items till the end was a horrible decision, but I thought I would be done packing within an hour. I was wrong. I kept packing until I saw sunlight outside of my window. It was around 5:20 a.m., and I was surprised that I was still awake despite feeling exhausted. Wanting to take a break from packing, I decided to bring a bag of clothes to the donation drive by the parking lot.
After putting my clothes in the donation bin, I couldn’t stop but marvel at how peaceful my surroundings were. Instead of hearing sounds coming from traffic and construction, I heard quiet chirps from the birds. Besides a few early risers running along the Charles, I was the only person on Memorial Drive. I loved the chill that made my skin tingle, a sensation that energized me. Being awake at this time of day when everyone else was asleep was rare for me, and so was seeing the sunrise. My initial plan was to finish packing, but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity of watching the sunrise.
I don’t know why, but I decided to run towards the sun as if it were my last sunrise by the Charles River. It wasn’t even my last day at MIT, but when would I get up to see a beautiful sunrise at such an early time again? Seeing the sunrise while the world stood still felt like a closing scene from a coming-of-age movie, an event so significant that I wanted to savor the moment in its entirety. I kept running until I reached the Longfellow Bridge, then stopping to soak in everything around me: the yellow hue of the sun illuminating the blue sky, the crystal-clear water glistening in the sunlight, the tiny cars on Storrow Drive moving along the Charles River. I didn’t want this moment to end as the sky became brighter—I chased the sun to enjoy the present even longer.
But I knew that the sunrise was ephemeral and that, eventually, the world would wake up, so I returned to my dorm. I could have gone to bed right after I finished packing around 8, but I didn’t go to bed until I finished delivering The Tech newspapers at 9. After sleeping for less than two hours, I woke up to move my boxes and luggage. I thought I would have time to say some parting words to my friends and embrace them, but the move turned out to be much more chaotic than I expected. All my attention was focused on moving out before noon, and the whole process felt rushed. Even though I will probably see my friends again in the future, I regret not saying a proper goodbye to them.
On the car ride from New House to my family friend’s house in Quincy, I thought about the conversations I had in the past 24 hours, from the French House 50th reunion in the afternoon to the late-night conversation that ended a few hours ago. After meeting so many alums from various class years and observing the conversations my senior friends had, I kept asking myself, “What will I remember about MIT?”
Although a bulk of the MIT experience comes from taking hard classes and completing challenging assignments, I believe that what I will remember most are the friends I made here. I am not even done with my undergraduate career yet, but I have already forgotten so much of what I have learned here—the reactions on my 5.13 psets, the concepts from 8.02 learning sequences, the list goes on. What I have remembered, however, are the memories I made outside of academics.
I won’t forget the excitement of making new friends at FPOP and REX, a time when I wanted to meet everyone. I still think of the instant friendships I made with the Caltech students who visited the Tech office on a Thursday night, talking until it was almost midnight. I remember the deep conversation I had with people in the ESP retreat, learning about the diverse backgrounds they came from and the challenges they faced at MIT. In short, I have made countless memories with many people in various contexts.
I acknowledge that MIT has been a stressful place for me, an institute that has lowered my self-esteem and barraged me with imposter syndrome. Despite this, I remain optimistic that many years later, I will look back and focus on fond memories I had here, recollections of being on the cusp of adulthood. Like the alums, I will think back to my college days with a tinge of nostalgia and reminiscence.
[1] A pod is a group of up to six students who lived together during the 2021 COVID spring semester.