Before the 2023-24 year is too far in the rearview mirror, we’d like to share another HiPPo’s remarks from the past weekend: the senior reflection that International Relations and Journalism major Soraya Keiser delivered at the 2pm Commencement ceremony in Benson Great Hall. We previously published a different senior reflection by History/Philosophy major Sam Grussing.
Last August I sat in the red winged armchair reserved for students in History professor AnneMarie Kooistra’s office and received some of the best advice I had ever heard in my life. Tucked in between filing cabinets and shelves weighed down by books marking centuries of history, Dr. K and I were catching up. Having studied abroad the previous spring, I was regaling stories from my time in Lithuania, complaining about my senior seminar paper and sharing my general trepidation for the future. While going over the possibility of applying for a Fulbright award I explained that it seemed very selective, a lot of work and ultimately not worth it for an auto-generated rejection letter.
In her matter-a-fact way, Kooistra looked me straight in the eye and said: “Soraya, don’t say no to yourself, have them say no to you.” Dr. K was probably just frustrated with my lack of confidence and wanted me to quit whining so she could get back to grading, but I took that advice to heart.
Don’t say no to yourself, have them say no to you. It became my guiding principle for my final year at Bethel. Even though this became a conscious part of my senior year, it was present this whole time.
Like when I ask Political Science professor Chris Moore to take my BeReal. The worst he can say is no, and he never will.
Or when my freshman RA Whitney marched my floor to the Egg stairs so we could get some mattress surfing in before security found us. A classic “ask for forgiveness, not permission” moment. We ended up asking for neither, so I still don’t know if mattress-surfing The Egg is allowed or not.
Now, this speech is not a call to cause unnecessary trouble. But how often do we limit ourselves because of fear?
When Journalism professor Scott Winter asked me about applying for an Edgren Scholars grant to create a documentary, my first thought was: I have absolutely no idea how to make a documentary. But I didn’t say no to myself. The end product, Border of Dreams, has been one the most fruitful parts of my college career, giving me an opportunity to tell social justice stories on an international scale.
As I sat in my dorm room in Lithuania 4,000 miles away from Bethel, I thought, “Did I do the right thing?” But sitting in that tension, I look back on my experience with love. I was able to explore international relations in the places where history happened. I was able to teach English to local Lithuanians and Ukrainian refugees. And I was even able to successfully order in Lithuanian. Once.
I have faith in this class of graduates. You will become strong professors, pastors, journalists, county officials, teachers, and taxidermists. Your Bethel education has helped you grow sure in your identity and faith, and I pray that you may not waver when faced with the exciting possibility of what comes next. Because as much as we limit ourselves, it is also easy to put God in a box. But I pray that you will follow his voice, not holding back timidly from what he has in store for you.
I would not be moving 5,000 miles across the world to start my new job in Bulgaria as a Fulbright English teacher if Kooistra had not metaphorically slapped me across the face with her words. Even though I won’t be walking these halls and taking classes with my best friends anymore, the lessons I’ve learned and the advice I’ve been given won’t go away the second I take a left on Old Snelling to go home.
I won’t sleep five feet away from my best friend anymore, but I know that she’s just a phone call away and she will be making bank as a data analyst so she can visit me whenever she gets enough PTO. I won’t be participating in socratic seminars regularly, but I’ll still read a book and think, “This would’ve been so much more interesting if I was discussing it in Humanities with Dr. Ritchie.” I won’t be writing for The Clarion any longer, but I will always think about how I can “name more dogs” to make my anecdotes more interesting.
Let me give you an example. Instead of saying, “Thank you, Bethel, for the best four years [blahhhh cliché],” I’ll say, “Thank you, Bethel, for the chance to play intramural basketball on the worst team to grace the court. For the chance to sword fight in the Humanities play. For the chance to learn how to fly fish and count it as college credit. For s’mores bars and the sunset reflecting off Lake Valentine and the time my suite in AV flooded and the time we found a possum in the stairwell. For people-watching in the DC and the haunting songs of Festival of Christmas and when Scott hopped on Roar Day.”
Thank you to my professors and friends and family and the chance to speak to you today. May you say yes to what God has in store for you. Congratulations to the class of 2024!
CC 4th 