As (hopefully) my last winter break in college nears its close, I thought it’d be nice to take some time to reflect on what I’ve learned over the past few years — to make sense of my experiences so that I can learn not to repeat the same mistakes of the past, so that I can move forward into this year and do more than ever before.

I still think fondly back to when I was first accepted into Duke. It felt like the culmination of many years of studying late into the night, balancing a schedule of multiple extracurricular activities while trying to maintain my status as a straight-A student. (A self-image, granted, that quickly dissipated after my first semester at Duke)

It was a moment of sheer ecstasy, of happiness and relief and everything that comes with realizing you’d made it.

I guess what I didn’t see then was how the college experience would come to shape me into who I am today.

As someone who’d grown up in the sheltered, safe haven that is Cary, I had never truly come face-to-face with poverty. All I’d known was comfort and privilege. I never had to think about where my next meal would come from, whether or not I had a roof over my head, or other concerns that a disquieting number of people today have to face on an everyday basis.

So when I took this one class at Duke my spring semester — Ethics in an Unjust World — my eyes were opened to see how blind my privilege had made me to all the injustices of the world. How systemic, institutionalized racism had created all the hierarchies we see in the world today, and how everything I had come to cherish as an American came from the sacrifices of so many people. I took a Civil Rights bus tour that spring that gave me a taste of what it was like to live as someone who was enslaved, without the basics of human decency afforded to them.

I still remember what it felt like to visit Urban Ministries for that class and sit next to a heavily tattooed, intimidating-looking man and have a conversation over dinner. How I visibly started shaking after, a few minutes in, he told me that he had recently been released from a maximum security prison in Florida after a 14-year sentence. But his expressions seared themselves into my mind more than the fear I felt that night — I remember handing him my phone after he asked for it and seeing how crestfallen and lonely he looked when his calls went straight to voicemail, as he tried to reach out to what family he had left. While I was partly terrified to be in his presence, I also felt my heart go out to him, seeing as he no longer had people to turn to for help. To this day, I still don’t know what he did to merit such a punishment, but I do hope he’s somewhere safe and warm.

I remember, too, the sense of loneliness that plagued me through the fall of my freshman year. I hadn’t really found a set friend group, and making countless orientation-week-like small talk exhausted me to no end. I stayed up late vidchatting old friends from high school and didn’t really know who to turn to when life got tough.

My roommate introduced me to my primary friend group for a good year or two of my college career. They were my home away from home, through good times and bad times alike.

Sophomore year was academically rigorous, and I devoted myself to my studies, failing for the first time academically and learning how to build myself back up from there. I remember isolating myself from friends and trying to prioritize academics as the number one most important thing in my life, as I had so often done before going to college. I remember running on five to six hours of sleep a night, almost always on the verge of a breakdown from all the academic stress.

And then DukeEngage happened. I went to China for the first time with two other Duke students, both of which I befriended over the course of our trip. That trip really tested my resolve as an aspiring elementary-school teacher, but facing a classroom full of 60 children and trying to help them with their English studies has shown me both the trials and the rewards you face as a teacher. And talking to the locals around there and learning about their life stories — well, it made me realize that they may never be able to have the means to leave the country and see more of the world for themselves, but they lived comfortably and found meaning through the connections they formed with the people around them.

I pushed myself too hard at the start of junior year after that. I experienced psychosis for the first time, and that scared me to no end. From those experiences, though, I learned the importance of self-care. I fell in and out of love and learned more about myself and others in the process. I became more of a social activist, advocating for equal treatment across socioeconomic statuses and racial divides, speaking up in an open forum and pointing out the many failings of the counseling and psychological services on campus. Getting Duke to change its hiring practices was one of the only achievements I really felt made a difference in the lives of other students on campus.

And after all that, I decided to leave my home and everyone I knew well to do more soul-searching in Taiwan. I came to understand the value of human connection and realize that I was capable of self-authorship, of directing my own life in a way that aligned with my values. I realized, too, the importance of family, and how they’ve unceasingly offered their support throughout the years. And I learned that, even with no friends in the area initially, through going to class and befriending my classmates, I could muster up my own social life starting from nothing more than a few choice, friendly interactions.

I traveled alone in Tokyo for a week and learned how much I valued companionship, planning my own itinerary and counting on Google maps like my life depended on it (which it definitely did, given the number of times I got lost in random alleyways in the many districts of Tokyo).

After gaining a newfound sense of independence, I made it back to the States and spent a relaxing summer at home with my family. When I came back to Duke, I finished another semester without much huzzah and binge-watched anime the whole semester.

The next semester was chaotic, seeing as I’d wound up experiencing another psychotic episode and grew increasingly paranoid about everything I did. I was hospitalized for a month, and that time away from everything — from the structure and stresses of everyday life — was one full of healing and both platonic and familial love.

Before I knew it, the semester was over and Beach Week rolled around. There, I celebrated the end of another school year with many from my graduating class who I dearly miss and others who I’ve come to see as friends I could easily depend on in a fix.

The following summer was an experiment to see what working in low-income jobs was like. Working at H Mart and Bojangles taught me how important the work environment is — your colleagues are what make your experience infinitely more enjoyable. And while it can be tiring to be on your feet all day, at the end of the day, it’s the interactions that you’ve had with people that fuel your resolve to do and be better.

This past semester was my third-to-last semester at Duke. I was suffering from chronic depressive spells, but with the help of my friends, I’ve learned to value the company I have while I have it and learn to make do without. I’ve learned to treasure my friends, who stopped by my dorm with food and cherished company time and time again, on days when I didn’t feel like I could get out of bed, much less dress to go outside. Yet somehow, I managed to make it to the end of the semester and finish the year up fairly strong.

Throughout all this, the one theme underlying everything I’ve learned is to treasure the time you have with those around you. People will inevitably come and go in your life, but the moments you have with them will last you a lifetime. Don’t pass on opportunities to express your gratitude for the people in your life because they very well may wind up somewhere halfway across the world before long.

I’ve learned that the friendships I cherish most transcend both time and space — in many cases, the friendships I have feel as though we merely pick up where we left off years ago, in some cases. And what more could you ask than that?

At the end of the day, I’m just thankful for my family. Although we’ve been through hard times, too, they’re all in the past — and we have grown so much as a result.

This year will be my last year at Duke as an undergrad. I hope I’ll be able to make the most of it!