One of my favorite photographs hangs in the Counselor area of our office, right behind my coworker’s desk. It’s a favorite of mine not because of the grandeur or spectacle, but for the meaning the people in the photograph have to me.
In August of 2016, we took the “class photo” for the Montana State University Class of 2020. We herded nearly 3,000 new students into the shape of a giant M on the football field, and snapped a photo, another in what had become annual tradition and rite of passage. Two weeks after we took this photo, MSU set a new campus - and state - enrollment record of 16,440 students.
This particular class holds special meaning for me, because they were the first that I could stake a claim in helping to create. I had started in the office in June 2015, and helped bring in that year’s class , but hadn’t yet had the opportunity to hit the road and recruit students or welcome them to campus. I spent the fall of ‘15 and spring of ‘16 criss-crossing six states learning how to become an Admissions Counselor, sharing my stories, meeting new people, and discovering a profession I never knew I could love so much.
Over the next four years, I was fortunate enough to continue in a job I unexpectedly fell in love with, growing personally and professionally. Along the way, I was privileged enough to connect with many students from our Class of 2020, proudly watching them develop into campus leaders, community advocates, and talented adults. Though I never attended classes with any of them, I’ve felt a special and unique bond with the first class I helped introduce to MSU.
The finale of their time at MSU wasn’t supposed to look like this. It was supposed to be full of warm celebration, full of hugs, drinks, balloons, confetti, pomp and circumstance - the college experience at its zenith. Tomorrow was supposed to be an opportunity to gather one last time, as we did so many times before, to honor their achievements and wish them well. Clearly, what was meant to be cannot happen today, but we humans can be cleverly resourceful beings. Wizards across campus found a way to create an experience that, if not a perfect analogue, strives to provide some joy and love to the ones we care so much for.
I will miss the Class of 2020. I’ll miss having them be a part of our daily lives on campus, miss having them provide wonderful experiences, opportunities, and insights. I will miss the ones I never got to say a proper “goodbye and good luck” to before the world intervened. I will always be proud of them, who they are, what they achieved, what they will achieve, and what they mean to us as a university.
Forever in Blue and Gold.