Letter to Senior Self

Hey 2020 Jesse,

This is 2017 Jesse, the girl with purple hair. I don’t know if you still have the crazy hair, but I sure hope so. I hope a lot of things for you, but unlike other people who hope for you, it’s my job to make those things.

I have a big hopes for you.

I hope you graduate on time. With a high GPA and Honors recognition. I hope you love your major. I hope you really get that Jewish Culture Club started and keep it going (I’m already on starting it but you need to keep it going). I hope you stick it through with Honors. I hope you make your ideas with Beyond the Numbers happen. I hope that you stay with the Rotunda and your story makes the front page again. I hope you publish another book. I hope you have the time of your life on study abroad. I hope you take more leadership positions in clubs. I hope that senior year is a little easier then the first year was. I went from Honors probation (3.23 for Fall semester) to Dean’s list for Spring Semester with a 3.79 for that semester. I’m hope you stay on the Dean’s list. I hope you remain part of the communities you’re already in and find new ones.

I have little hopes for you.

I also have little hopes for you. I hope you go to dances and find cute shoes to go. I hope you and your friends keep having cooking mishaps (remember the rice from your first Passover at Longwood). I hope you treat yourself and I hope you take care of those around you. I hope that you stay up late at night both when you need to for school and when you want to for when you have fantastic company. I hope you go on midnight milkshake runs and to bingo nights.

But I most importantly, I hope you get lost. That’s a funny thing to wish for, especially for oneself, but I want you to lose the beaten path when you can, both literally and metaphorically. I hope you keeping taking the back roads and the long way home. I hope that the plan falls apart sometimes so you have to think. I hope that sometimes things go wrong so that they right, and that sometimes life doesn’t make sense. I want you to fail sometimes, because if you always succeed it means you aren’t aiming high enough. I want you to get lost every once in a while, because that’s how you really find yourself.

I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ve got high hopes for you, and I’ll do my best to make them happen.

Sincerely,

Jesse Plichta-Kellar of June 2017