We Are ’16 Going on ’17: Advice to MBA2's

15 ’16ers (and one ’15er) share words of wisdom for Class of 2017

Kene Anoliefo: Come Out Of Nowhere

One of the greatest moments in sports history came with 1:52 left in Game 7 of the Cleveland Cavaliers-Golden State Warriors NBA Finals last year. If you’re an NBA fan, you already know the moment I’m talking about. If you’re not, all you need to know is that a world championship, ending Cleveland’s 67-year sports drought, and the greatest comeback we’ve seen in the modern era were all resting on the shoulders of one man — Lebron James. In the few seconds preceding this moment, it looked as if he would fail; Golden State got a long rebound, initiating a 2-on-1 fast break led by Steph Curry and Andre Iguodala that appeared to be the final dagger in Cleveland’s improbable march toward a championship. But as Iguodala sprung to finish a seemingly uncontested layup, a black and gold flash appeared out of nowhere. Wearing the number 23, soaring above the rim, above Iguodala, above the purported metaphysical rules that govern our universe, Lebron pinned the ball against the backboard, blocking the shot. He stole that easy layup from the Warriors, sucked the wind out of Oracle Arena, and gave the Cavs the spark they needed to win the game.

Here it is from one angle:

And another:

Why is this one of the greatest moments in sports history? I’m biased because I was there in Oracle Arena, wearing a black and gold Cleveland T-shirt in a sea of 20,000 Golden State fans, weeping openly as I watched this melodrama unfold. But it wasn’t until Nike came out with this commercial memorializing The Block that I realized why it meant so much to me.

Come out of nowhere.

Who are you? Are you the Number 1 seed with the odds stacked in your favor, sprinting toward an uncontested layup on a fast break? Or are you the underdog, counted out, starting from 50 feet behind, scrambling like hell to survive?

If you count yourself in the former, congratulations — you can stop reading. You need no words of wisdom. If you’re in the latter group — let’s talk.

Maybe you don’t have the sexy job or startup right now. And you’re not going to win any superlatives or awards before walking across that stage next week. And maybe you’ve felt invisible over the last two years because other people made smarter comments in class or planned better parties or could afford cooler vacations. Maybe, after spending two years earning your credits and alumni status, you still feel “I’m not supposed to be here.”

I won’t tell you to bury that feeling. I’m here to tell you to lean into that feeling as much as you can. Learn to love being counted out. Because that is what allows you to Come Out of Nowhere.

If you ever feel like “I’m not supposed to be here,” it’s probably true — you’re not. Every day I walk into rooms filled with white men and sit there, too tall and too black, with a weave down to my ass and a name that’s impossible to pronounce, and think, “I’m not supposed to be here.” And I know they think it too, with looks of half skepticism, half bemusement — “Where did she come from?” People that look like me don’t typically end up in rooms that like that. That’s the moment when I know I’ve done something right because I’ve Come Out of Nowhere and put myself in a place where nobody expected me to be.

Don’t ever be intimidated by who people think you are supposed to be or not be. It doesn’t matter that your peers didn’t mark you for success on Day One because the kind of success you’re looking for isn’t ephemeral or shallow, or conferred by the village voice. The kind of success you want is a slow burn, the ultimate grind that presses on day in and day out in service of a future that you define for yourself.

Keep people asking, “Where did she come from?” Put yourself in the places people least expect you to be. Come Out Of Nowhere.

Kene (pronounced Keh-nay) works in Product Development at Spotify in New York.

Daniel Perez: Seven Lessons (and read ‘Shoe Dog’)

For those figuring it out:

The music stops after graduation. Sun still shines in Palo Alto, a dark, trapping and agonizing sunshine. I’d wake up, realizing I’d just finished all I had to do that day. Everything was slow; companies didn’t respond to emails, job processes stalled. “Maybe I should lower my expectations?” I was overwhelmed by uncertainty, by the pressure. My willingness to settle for anything grew quickly. My peers hung out in Bass — anxious, defeated; I cringed at the thought of ending up like that (but those with jobs didn’t feel fulfilled either). Above all, I hated myself for feeling depressed– I’d just graduated from Stanford; what right did I have to complain?

Five months after the GSB I hit a low: I found myself alone in NYC in a dismal, potentially illegal first-floor apartment, with the stench of rotting fish from trash bins outside. I had $700 left in my Wells Fargo account. My best friend had offered me money — is there anything more demoralizing? I’d moved to NYC to find my passion. Instead I was broke, homeless and contemplating a banking offer to get me out of this mess, a lifeline that made me feel a failure for caving to the pressure, for settling. Declining that offer was jarring. But I moved on, and succeeded in finding something I really enjoy.

My takeaways from the journey:

1. Try self-compassion. So many of our pressures are self-inflicted. It’s OK to be a Stanford MBA and feel like shit. It’s OK to accept jobs that feel “safe.” It’s OK to want money. Read Shoe Dog and learn that after Stanford, Phil Knight moved back in with his parents, then sold encyclopedias.
2. Talk to everyone. Friends, family, professors. “But it’s not easy, it’s all so personal.” People will help. People will have ideas. People will grant you much needed perspective. And aren’t you great at vulnerability now? Prove it, Mr. Arbuckle Fellow.
3. Reflect and prioritize. I wanted career development, flexibility, financial stability, New York, music-art-finance focus, closeness to friends/family, and above all, purpose. Rob Siegel sat me down and broke it to me: I was chasing a magical moment. “Those happen once, maybe twice in life, and you won’t find them, they’ll find you. It’s unlikely you’ll feel purpose in every single one of the remaining years of your career. Sometimes purpose will come from family, sometimes from work or a personal project. Figure out what’s most important now and head in that direction.”
4. Find support. An ally with whom there’s absolute trust, who has your back unconditionally; who lets you barge through the door at midnight in NYC when having a panic attack; who stops driving in the middle of the road to hear your pitch to a CEO; who strategizes, brainstorms and laughs with you about the absurdity of it all; who genuinely cares and wants you to succeed.
5. Invest in what’s in your control. Get fit, eat well, work on personal goals. Success in the realms of life over which you have control is addictive and stimulating — and companies won’t reply for weeks anyway, so there’s time.
6. Don’t lower your expectations. Peers will soon question whether having high expectations as Stanford grads limits our success. Nonsense — it’s because we have high expectations that we refuse to settle and achieve long-term success.
7. Embrace the stench of rotting fish — at the crux of your emotional roller coaster you may find one of the last good moments for reflection and authenticity in what could become a hugely disappointing, successful life.

P.S. Read Shoe Dog.

Daniel is director of finance at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York.

Laura Albero: Fall Back on Your Friendships

Business school was to be two years of self-discovery and vacation sanctioned by the private sector. I’d emerge refreshed and ready to head to work at the dream job that sought me out during the second year.

Nah.

I overindexed on vacation and graduated wondering what happened to the self-discovery bit. I was unemployed with no interest in popping back to office life and was basically made up of Fireball and dino nuggets. I felt guilty every time someone congratulated me for having completed two years of self-absorption and overindulgence.

After graduation, I spent several low-key months with my family. I ran, read, cooked, swam, and watched the sun set every night. I got to know my parents and siblings better and became a more recognizable presence in my niece and nephew’s lives. Delaying a paycheck for that emotional rebalance was invaluable.

When I deemed myself ready to re-enter the workforce, I was surprised to learn it hadn’t been pining for me. This was strange, given CEOs were always looking for my advice in Stanford classrooms. As I searched and in the months since taking on my current role, I’ve come to appreciate tradeoffs and accept that life doesn’t become a magic carpet ride just because I’m a GSB alum.

I live in New York, never have to cancel dinner plans, and have no idea where my suits are. When the less lovely flip sides arise, I have wonderful friends who will commiserate or offer a reality check. Some are old colleagues, some passdown-house roommates, and some classmates I didn’t know particularly well in school and now can’t imagine life without.

If I were to distill what I’ve learned over the past year, it would be this: The world wasn’t waiting for me to graduate from the GSB. As a result, I got to focus on my family and my personal well being for months. I wound up in an unexpected professional situation that grants me newfound flexibility to focus on friendships, family, health and enjoying New York. And as a result sometimes I wonder why I even went back to school, what I’m doing with my life, whether I’ll be a success in the long run, what success even means. When that happens I call a classmate who can usually calm me down over Japanese candies, a great mezcal, a home-cooked meal or a walk through Madison Square Park. While your post-grad experience is sure to be different from mine, the ability to rely on close friends from the GSB is a constant. My only universally applicable advice is to strengthen those friendships, build new ones, and be willing to be vulnerable when struggles arise.

Laura is project manager for an entrepreneur’s book launch — “basically, chief of staff to a book.”

Ozair Ali: Embrace the Grind but Notice the Flowers

You may be tired of advice in this final month of school, and I may be a part of that cacophony. Realize that this is the privilege of having friends, family and mentors invested in your success. You deserve to be here because of your tenacity and achievements. But you are here only because others around you believe that you deserve such opportunities, and played some part in helping you get here.

So, choose to be grateful and be kind. We have been set up for success. The question now is how, not if and when, we succeed.

Now, get ready for the real world. Stanford is an echo chamber — and a loud one. Become an unknown, and start from scratch. Your CV may receive less interest than you expected, your interviews may not go spectacularly, and the job hunt may be a slog. So embrace the realization that the pedestal you were on is no more, that most of the world doesn’t care about your MBA, and embrace the grind that lies ahead.

And while you’re busy pursuing success, take in some of the small joys of life. There are some beautiful pomegranate flowers blossoming around this time on Campus Drive near Munger. Check them out.

Ozair is COO of Alter Global, a venture founded by Jesse Sullivan (GSB ’15) that finds and scales high-potential businesses in the least developed and post-conflict countries, including Haiti, Myanmar and Afghanistan.

Ross Andrese: The GSB Lives Within You

About six months ago I lunched in NYC with a good friend and fellow MBA ’16 classmate. In short order, we started reminiscing about the GSB and how life was really different now, back in the “real world.”

My friend paused and said, “Have you ever looked at a photo of yourself in a group at some event — you know you were there because you’re in the photo, but you don’t remember it? Almost like an out-of-body moment? That’s kind of how I now remember our time in business school. I know I was there, but I don’t feel it the same way.” Six months after graduating….

I refer to that conversation frequently and my conclusion is always the same: “Shit! I don’t ever want to feel like that about the GSB.”

As you, the Class of 2017, leave Stanford equipped with new letters after your name, my hope for you (and for my class) is that the experience of the GSB lives potently within us, in our recollections and emotions as well as in how we live our lives.

There’s no right answer for how to do that, but I’ve found it useful to think about what I’d miss most if I’d not attended the GSB. For me that’s the friendships, the sense of purpose I discovered I want in my career, and the Touchy Feely stuff.

As our class scattered, I have come to appreciate what it takes to stay in touch and keep friends close. It’s fun, but it takes energy and focus. GSB friends are the best people to hold you accountable to who you want to be and what you want to pursue. I hope you’ll support each other. At our recent one-year reunion the Class of ’16 talked about rolling out a program called GSB Tribes (name subject to revision). The gist is to create geographic-based communities of GSBers to be personal and professional support networks. In a structured way, to hold each other accountable. I’d encourage the class of 2017 to pursue something similar.

The “real world” is not the GSB, you all already know that. But I hope the GSB remains part of your real world.

P.S. As you part, remember, the one-year reunion is a blast.

Ross works on the strategy team at the private equity firm American Securities in New York.

Bharat Ayyar: Ignore Those Expectations

A year since leaving the Knight Management Center to return to Planet Earth, I’ve finally found a sense of calm and peace in thinking about my future. I had a challenging year — both personally and professionally — but now I can once again focus on my own values and desires, without worrying about grandiose expectations (“Change Lives…”) or submersing myself in the ambition echo chamber.

Two years at the GSB tends to foster an anxious ambition — a perpetual worry about personal and professional trajectories. Am I on the right path? Am I moving fast enough? I noticed it in myself. I heard it in my friends.

The worst part is that this “anxious ambition” naturally seeks points of comparison. What’s the best way to know if you’re on the right path or moving fast enough? Measure yourself against your classmates! It leads to shameful but perhaps inevitable behavior: celebrating their successes (with twinges of jealousy) and consoling them on setbacks (with guilty relief). Moreover, searching for points of comparison creates a heightened sense that you, too, are being watched. It makes switching directions harder than staying the course, however flawed you realize the course to be.

So here I am, 12 months removed from graduation, writing from a co-working space in downtown Manhattan. I’ve broken off a long-term relationship and started to wind down my year-old startup. In short, I’ve lived a roundabout trajectory that, given the choice, none of you would want to replicate. But I’m more excited for the future than ever, and I’m sharing this in case that’s comforting to hear.

Deborah Donaldson: Be Honest With Yourself

Use this time of transition as an opportunity to reflect on what you’ve learned about your priorities and values. This is the time to be honest in identifying what you value most and align your professional efforts to these highest of values — whether money, relationships, challenging work, working for the best in your industry. Committing to these values will help you be patient about your career progression and avoid a lot of frustration, disillusionment and confusion that often occurs post graduation.

Deborah Donaldson (’15), is CEO of AWE, an early stage e-commerce company and lifestyle brand.

Misha Esipov: Commit to Something

Find your purpose.

After two years of gallivanting around the world and taking pride in the “depth” of your coffee chats, small-group dinners and extended strolls up and down Serra, it’s time to find and commit to a purpose. A cause. Something that actually matters to you.

Without purpose, you will be lost. Without purpose, you will turn to ephemeral vices to keep your pride and ego afloat. Without purpose, you will find complacency in the day to day grind and never muster the courage to truly commit to what you want to do. Without purpose, you’ll never quite feel fulfilled.

With purpose, life may turn into even more of a grind, but you’ll feel alive. With purpose, you’ll close-out every day absolutely exhausted, but look back and feel proud of what you accomplished. With purpose, you’ll feel like you’re making the most of your limited time and your successes and failures will start to feel more like one.

You may be thinking: duh, but where do I find it? Yeah, that’s a really hard one. Only you can answer that for yourself, but my best advice is to find something to master. Find a skill or a subject that fascinates you and go become the absolute best at it. Be deliberate, seek it out, and it will come.

Misha is co-founder and CEO of Nova Credit, which enables lenders and landlords to serve immigrants through instant access to global consumer credit data.

David Horn: Be Humble

You’ve graduated Stanford, the best business school in the world. For two years you’ve been surrounded by the most talented people you know. You’ve pushed yourself to new heights trying things you never thought you would…. TALK, Touchy Feely, CS, Guayoyos! And now you’re ready to bring your brilliance to the world. Change lives, change organizations, change the world. Right?

Back up. The best advice I can give you being one year out is to pause and remember that you just graduated. Be humble. You still have so much to learn. It’s actually an exciting thought; it’s just the beginning. I learned this as a PM coming into a new industry and a new city. For the entrepreneurs, the career switchers and the career builders alike, often the best contribution you can offer is to listen. Avoid the long-held MBA stereotype: heavy on bravado, light on experience.

Instead, be patient. Learn about the issues facing the business and the underlying concerns of those around you. In time, demonstrate your value with tight emails, solid analysis and thoughtful comments that grasp the big picture but speak to others’ perspectives; bring a modesty that is understated and persuasive. Your quiet proficiency will do wonders for the reputation of our our species. We will only gain more influence as a result.

David is the product lead for premium product at the meditation app Headspace in Los Angeles.

Rich Joseph: Make Real Life More Like the GSB

The GSB is a remarkable adventure of self-discovery, innovation through iteration, collaboration, entrepreneurial energy, and hopeful idealism. While some may warn you that the GSB is not “real life,” I would encourage you to make “real life” more like the GSB. Rather than acquiescing to systems with norms and processes that stifle creativity and breed uniformity, bring the spirit of the GSB to your everyday life and work. Keep an open mind, explore alternate paths, and connect disparate pieces to help solve the most pressing societal challenges of today. Remember that ultimately, you are the change you hope to see in the world.

Rich, an MD/MBA, is a resident physician at Brigham & Women’s Hospital in Boston.

Nadine Lehner: Appreciate Simplicity

With all of six months of post- postgraduate life experience — I lurked around last fall to finish an MS in Environment and Resources — I have little qualification for giving advice. Furthermore, I’ve spent most of those six months living in a tent and wearing rain pants (while starting Chulengo Expeditions in Patagonia), neither of which are likely next steps for most of the class of 2017.

Nonetheless, nugget of advice #1 is to listen to Glenn. So, at his behest, three themes I keep coming back to:

1. Making space for longer thoughts. Spending weeks in the mountains forces the practice of disconnection from devices. I’ve watched my mind shift from frenetic to-do listing toward slower and perhaps more focused explorations of what engages me. Neither state of mind is necessarily superior, but busy-ness make it easy to exist only in the former. I appreciate the real privilege of being present, or at least having moments to move toward present-ness. No cell service offers a shortcut, but it’s not the only route.
2. Separating needs from wants. The exercise of simplicity comes naturally on a backpacking trip. You have to carry everything you want for a week. In a few days comes that realization that a rich life can emerge from a handful of objects. “Real life” accumulates (and demands) more clutter, physical and not. I’m now looking for ways to hold on to this appreciation of simplicity. Focusing less on non-core wants has given me room to address needs in more creative ways.
3. Finding a place — a real, physical place — to savor. I may have followed this idea to an extreme, but I think there’s a kernel in here for others. You’ve doubtlessly pondered the workplace you’re looking for, probably the geographic areas as well, but I mean those actual, micro-physical places: a sunny reading chair in your apartment, a secret roof spot at work, a neighborhood tiny park or memorable street corner. The GSB abounds with rocking chairs and umbrella-ed tables, but daily life made cheerier through favorite spots doesn’t have to end at graduation. Stanford researcher Greg Bratman has published numerous studies on the positive effects on mood and cognition of even small “doses” of outdoor time. Whether you agree with the research or just find yourself hunting out a sunny nap spot, find that spot and savor it.

Nadine has been working in Patagonia on Chulengo Expeditions, a new wilderness travel venture.

Rishi Lilly: You Are Your Own Boss

I turned down the COO role at a health-tech startup right after graduation. While it may sound like a glam decision, I assure you it was not. I was distressed and unsure. I quickly realized how much of my personal identity is tied to my professional identity. For months I evaluated what I really wanted from work, and when I found it, I went all in. Here is what I learned through the process.

It is worth it to figure out what you want.

Some people know exactly what they want to do as they leave the womb, but not me. I had to be honest with myself about what I like and what I don’t like. I loved coaching and mentoring as an Arbuckle Fellow. I knew I wanted to become a great manager. I also knew I wanted operations experience for when I start a company. I found a role at the kidney-care firm DaVita that gave me both. And now, there are hard days, boring days, long days (and many good days). Through it all, I know why I am doing it, and I am fulfilled.

You are the boss of you.

I pivoted, from executive search to health care operations and managing a team. For anyone who wants to pivot, I feel your pain. Some people will discourage you. Try to remember that no one knows what you are capable of except you. This is your life; you make the rules.

Surround yourself with great people.

We all know people who make us feel we can do anything, and those who make us feel less than for trying. It is so much easier to reach for what you want when you have great people supporting you. Double down on those relationships and let the others go.

And finally, take care of yourself.

At DaVita we often say that you cannot pour from an empty cup. When you are in the midst of proving yourself at work, it can be difficult to set time aside for yourself. But do it! In the first few weeks of taking on my role, I was terrible at setting aside time for myself, and it showed up in my ability to be present, calm and collected with my team. Now I still work a fair amount, but I carve out time to read and exercise. As a result, I am calmer and happier when I go to work. I can give more because I have more to give.

Rishi is a facility administrator at the kidney-care company DaVita in New York.

Yemi Oyebode: Friendships and Mindfulness

I have two pieces of advice for the class of 2017: maintain friendships and practice mindfulness.

Maintain friendships.

After graduation, I moved to Nigeria. The nearest classmate lived in Egypt, six hours away by plane. I was far away from my GSB friends and I was worried about losing touch with the community. We learn a special language at the GSB through classes such as Touchy Feely and Art of Self-Coaching and I did not want to lose any of that. I called and messaged friends, chatted over video, and sent out life updates periodically. My friends were able to be a part of my life and I was able to be a part of theirs, even from a distance. The transition from GSB can be difficult, but your friends can help in that transition. I have supported my friends and been supported by others through my own transition. So, try to maintain the relationships you have formed here wherever you end up.

Practice Mindfulness.

Throughout the past year, I struggled with being present and aware. I also wanted to improve my physical health, mental health, and overall well-being. I decided to practice mindfulness again. I have three mindfulness exercises that I now practice: meditation (I use the Headspace app), journaling (I write 3–5 sentences every other day), and monthly reflection (which includes re-reading some class notes). I am starting to see some improvements in the areas I wanted now that I am being more mindful. There are many different exercises you can try until you find which ones you like.

Once we leave the GSB, we each go on our different journeys through life. As you go on your journey, I encourage you to put in the time to maintain your friendships from the GSB and practice mindfulness exercises.

Congratulations Class of 2017!

Yemi is a consultant for Boston Consulting Group in Lagos.

Mikey Rothkopf: First, Know Your Place. Then …

I quit my first job out of the GSB, as chief of staff/business development for a famous actor, after five surreal months. Here are a few things I picked up along the way.

• Your MBA from Stanford means a lot more to your co-workers and managers than it does to you. If you’re planning to work for someone who doesn’t have an MBA — or worse — works in an industry where MBAs are looked at sideways, you’ve got a challenge. When you walk into the office, you might as well be wearing a sandwich board around your neck reading: “I have an MBA and I’m better than you.” In fact, there’s a strong chance that your manager is already dreading your arrival: slumped in a chair at the impending frenetic energy you’ll bring, the upward scrutiny of their own processes and the insecurities you’ll nurture. The foul stench of your self-satisfaction may already linger. You’re comfortable with the idea of Stanford now; it’s been almost three years since Derrick called. Time and familiarity have bred contempt. You’ve spent two years living immersed in this community, and have probably forgotten what it’s like not to revere this place. But your imminent teammates don’t see it that way. They have all the prejudices, awe and assumptions around the GSB that we had when we applied, but without the swagger and confidence of having achieved it. Be careful when you arrive. It’s your moment to prove that you’re not an asshole.
• Take your time to shine. At the end of two years of management drills and limbering up, you’re desperate to get out there and prove to everyone (and yourself) that they were right to hire you and that the last two years were worth it. You nailed MGE and have finely tuned your CEO-ness to crush any problem in your path. Hold on there, Cowboy. Take a breath. Observe and absorb “how things are done around here” before unleashing the full force of your undoubted talents on your terrified employers. No one’s expecting you to turn around sales or redraw the org chart in the first three months. And if you try, they’ll know they’ve hired the MBAzilla of their nightmares. Start as a student of the business. Ask as many questions as you can. Respect what exists now, without trying to change it. There’s probably a solid rationale for why things are this way, which you can’t yet grasp. Beyond soothing their worried souls, you’ll do a far better job when it comes time to really execute.
• Define the role. My job lacked any sort of formal structure, defined expectations or measurable targets. As a result, it was nearly impossible to plan, grow or know how I was doing. If your future manager can’t specifically articulate your job description and goals — then most likely there aren’t any. You may be expected to do everything, and not much at all — neither of which works. Gaining clarity of what you will do and how you’ll be judged makes it so much easier and more pleasurable to do a great job. Plus, it’ll help you avoid the “just come and we’ll figure it out together” job that never quite materializes.

Mikey is now working on a range of ventures including an augmented-reality startup.

Christos Shepherd: Believe in Magic

Leaving Stanford will be one of the saddest, most turbulent, and most disappointing experiences of your life. Not only must you grovelingly rebuild neglected relationships with the people you left behind while you were here, you too will feel left behind by classmates who are all embarking on dream careers while you shuffle into a job that’s jarringly less rewarding than you thought it would be.

But don’t measure yourself against your classmates, most of whom will struggle with the same problems as you (even if, in true GSB fashion, they won’t admit it). You’re not competing against them, but against the rest of the world. So put your hard-earned Touchy Feely skills to work, and be vulnerable. Rely on your classmates for support, advice, and professional introductions — and lean on your old professors, who will turn out to be even more helpful once you’ve graduated than they were while you were on campus.

Maybe your classmates’ and professors’ support will make you realize that you chose the wrong job, or the wrong city, or the wrong girlfriend. So quit, move, break up. There’s no shame in cutting your losses (unless you do it via Snapchat). You’re already too old to pursue paths which you know to be dead-ends.

Or maybe your classmates’ and professors’ support will unleash the potential you came here to capture. The Stanford brand, judiciously flaunted, will open an astonishing number of doors; it will get you the meeting; it will get you the job; it will get you the funding. Within you lie all the tools necessary to shape the world in your image.

And above all, watch that world with glittering eyes, because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.

Christos, with Nick Young, co-founded Campfire, an audio platform where people pay to ask questions to thought leaders, experts and celebrities — with proceeds going to charity.

Nick Young: Be Patient but Not Complacent

You’re probably thinking: This is it. I’m never coming this way again. And it’s true, you never will. At least not as a student. But stop for a sec. Remember how self-determined and full of optimism you were at Week Zero? Try to channel that now. Now is your time to shine.

There is no better time to take a risk. Use what you learned and lean on the people you met. Launch that startup, make a career pivot or move to a new part of the world. It’s a privilege to be able to “roll the dice” without any down side. One year later you can still tap into the GSB community to course-correct.

Give the right job enough time to find YOU. Wait for an opportunity that excites you, a team of colleagues who will push you, and projects that will stretch you. These may not be available at graduation so it’s OK if you’re still searching six months later. The search will teach you a lot about yourself.

Write to your classmates. It shows that you care. It might also surprise you how much your classmates still care about you. The GSB community is powerful, but don’t grow complacent. Don’t settle for liking photos on Facebook/Instagram. That just lowers the bar for what “friendship” should be.

Revisit your final feedback from Touchy Feely. That too will remind you how much people care about you. It will also remind you of the things you (probably) still need to work on.

Don’t worry about “falling behind” your classmates. They may think that they’re “falling behind” you — and it’s all subjective anyway. Instead, ask yourself if you’re “falling away” from your values, convictions and sources of happiness. They are your North Star.

Nick, with Christos Shepherd, co-founded Campfire, an audio platform where people pay to ask questions to thought leaders, experts and celebrities — with proceeds going to charity.