A common question that I’ve been asked a few times this summer is “How are you going to approach your last year at Princeton?” 

It’s a simple question, but it carries such finality in its words. This is it, the last lap. The last September I’ll step onto campus as a student, the last chance to choose who I want to be here. 

Most people I’ve asked answer in ways that make sense: spend more time with friends, say yes to new adventures, let go of stress about grades, or maybe it’s the opposite: study harder, workout more often in the gym, leave no unfinished business. 

But as I contemplate on my own answer to this question, the only answer that feels true to me is much quieter.

I want to become a better person. 

Not better in a “self-improvement” way that wins applause. I mean better in the way my heart beats when no one watches, better in the way I stand before God, better in the kind of soul I’ll carry when I graduate from this University. 

The Shifting Lines

When I was in 5th grade, I thought the worst types of people were my 10 year old classmates who cursed. Even the words “shut up” were like daggers to the soul, I vowed to myself I would never let myself use any horrible words like that in my life.

But then middle school happened, and everyone was cursing. And suddenly, I had to redraw the hard boundary against profanity in my head. Okay… maybe cursing isn’t so bad after all, maybe underaged drinking was what was really evil. 

And then high school came, and now everyone was drinking. And I thought, well, maybe just a sip here and there can’t be bad. Surely, my entire friend group and I can’t be wicked, right? So I decided to move that line again: this time, the real evil ones were those who engaged in hookup culture.

Then came college, and hookup culture was everywhere. And the line moved again. 

And now, I find myself on a moral high ground pointing fingers at billionaires, the greedy elites, at people who hoard wealth, as if labeling them as wicked somehow absolves me from looking at myself. 

But if I’m being honest, the line just keeps shifting, and I’m the one carrying the chalk. Every time I convince myself I’m still on the “good” side of it, sometimes I wonder if my 5th grade self will even recognize me if he saw me today. If part of “growing up” just means learning to excuse what I once knew was wrong, then why would I want any part of it?

So when I think about my senior year in college, I just want to return to something I lost. 

That fifth grade innocence. That stubborn refusal to normalize things that aren’t good for me, even when everyone else does. That childlike heart that still believed in purity and trembled at the idea of being cruel.

I don’t mean I want to always be judgmental and label some groups as the “wicked” ones like I did in 5th grade. I’ve already seen how that mindset crumbles as soon as you step close to the line yourself. 

But what I want is that integrity, and the ability to admit that I’m not good, but I want to try again.

So maybe that’s my answer to the big question: How do I want to approach my last year of college?

The same way I approached fifth grade. 

Not by dividing the world into “wicked” and “good” or with the exhaustion of the jaded senior who has already “seen it all.”

I want to live as if there’s still such a thing as wonder in the world, as innocence, as purity. I want to live in a way that if my younger self looked at me again, he would recognize me. Maybe he wouldn’t see someone perfect, but maybe, he’d still see someone worth becoming.