Adrian Huq

12/24/23

Everything Changes/Nothing Changes

Dear Reader,

Reflecting on my experiences in 2020 and 2021 through these short films was certainly a journey. As many adults may feel when confronted with content their teenage selves publicly posted on the internet, it was an embarrassing yet heartwarming experience. 

So where am I, Adrian, now at the start of 2024? The film ended with the summer following my first year of (remote) college, and I am now a senior in my last semester. Much has stayed the same in terms of my personal commitments. I still work and volunteer at many of the same organizations, and I partook in the same fellowship for the last three summers. I still go on outings with my family when I’m back at home in Connecticut, and try to squeeze in time for my hobbies. 

Of course, things have changed as well. My college campus is certainly in a much bigger environment than my high school of 430 people, but I quite like the community here. I’ve been able to meet and bond with my new housemates, friends, and classmates. I’ve been able to physically learn in classrooms again and make use of campus buildings as I please. 

My situation of studying remotely for two years put me in a very small minority of undergraduates at my school that made this decision. I finally arrived on campus in Fall 2022, diving straight into the experience without an actual orientation. You could say I fell under the radar of the university’s usual new student support. 

Despite being a senior, I still feel somewhat new to the campus experience and culture. I still have my “what’s that?” moments when people mention local spots or school club acronyms. I suppose there is a mild sense of loss experienced by the Class of 2024. In speaking with others in my grade, I know I’m not alone in feelings of missing out or not fully feeling like a senior given all we’ve missed. (Some have told me that being on campus during the pandemic wasn’t a positive experience anyway, so maybe I didn’t miss all that much.)

Coming into that first semester in person with only a couple of acquaintances I knew beforehand, I was faced with the worries of moving and acclimating to the school. Would I even remember what it was like to have in-person lectures and take notes by hand? Would other juniors already have made their friend groups? Would I like my roommate and housemates? Would I learn how to get around campus and memorize the endless sea of building and organizational acronyms? What would it be like working hybridly for my job? 

During my first couple months at school, I would sit with people who were sitting alone at the dining halls and strike up conversation with them. Most of them ended up being freshmen or transfer students, but I did meet some people I am still friendly with. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the sit-alone-and-scroll-through-your-phone culture I saw around me--perhaps it was a remnant of the pandemic on the social norms of our society. When I mentioned this venture to one of my professors, she commended my “counter-cultural” actions. (Now that I’ve absorbed the campus culture, I’m not as insecure about sitting alone anymore and certainly don’t make as many attempts to talk to strangers.)

After living our lives with major disruptions stemming from COVID-19 for two years or more, many of us are tired of thinking or talking about the pandemic. However, I invite you to try your best to reflect since these memories may escape us 10 years from now. What did your daily life and hobbies look like? Were you in school, working, volunteering, or something else? Where were you living? Were you dealing with feelings of loss, grief, isolation, or other distress? Were you or others you know victims to the virus? Were certain plans you had impacted or fully canceled? What did your family life and social life look like? Have any of your attitudes and ways of living then carried over to the present?

While I feel content about the stage of life I’m in now, I applaud my teenage self for remaining patient and grateful, finding time for the fun in life, and intentionally creating art in memory of a historic pandemic. 

I hope that we can all honor our past selves and how living through this era has changed us. Your life won’t look the same one, two, or three years from now. Change is a given, major historical events or not. We learn and evolve every day. 

I’m certain that I get my tendency to avidly record memories from my mother, an avid picture-taker who’s been diligently documenting our family’s life through her Facebook posts since my sister and I were kids and back when we used digital cameras instead of our phones. From a group photo of family friends to her food at a cafe, she captures content on a daily basis. 

With this also comes an archival process--she’s sure to back up her images organized by month onto a flashdrive at the end of each year. She’ll go to the studio for portraits or family pictures every few years to get professional prints of our best looks. She also gets her favorite images printed out for photo albums, blown up as decorations for the house, or content for my sister to scrapbook with. 

I take up after her hobby of memory-keeping by frequently capturing photos on my phone (perhaps to a degree that annoys my friends), taking video clips on my travels to later edit into vlogs, pushing myself to write in my journal at least twice a year (my birthday and New Year’s Day), and keeping a year-in-review jar containing paper slips listing major accomplishments or happenings that I let myself to open at the end of each year. I’ll admit that I’m not great at holding myself accountable to these goals, but it’s always worth it to at least try.

So go ahead--pick up a camera, an audio recorder, a canvas, a sketchbook, or a diary. Document your world today in whatever way you feel is authentic to you. Your future self (and anyone who lived through those moments) will thank you.

Sincerely,

Adrian Huq