The other day, a friend of my parents asked what the future held for me. I thought about it for a moment and responded with a one-word answer: debt. Though we shared a laugh and I told him the real answer shortly after, my initial response resonated with me. I started to realize that debt might actually be metaphor for my past four years here at Hopkins. Debt is a gamble; it is a test of will and determination to see whether you have enough guts to start in a hole (albeit an incredibly deep hole) and slowly climb your way out while you pursue your dreams. Debt is a litmus test of your goals to see how much they burn inside of you. Debt is a traffic light on the road to your career: green light if you are willing to go through an enormous amount of money that you do not have (and may never have) to get there, red if you’re not.
It’s stressful. While many of my friends will be making nice salaries and bonuses right out of college at places like Deloitte or the Royal Bank of Scotland, I will be burning through more money in a matter of seconds with a signature than they could hope to make within four years.
After graduation, I will be attending the Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health for a one-year masters degree in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology and will also be applying for medical schools, which will undoubtedly require hefty loans resulting in an even larger amount of debt.
And this is why I love Johns Hopkins University. I genuinely do. I have had so many great times and great memories during my past four years here, I have made lasting friendships that will endure long after graduation, I have learned and interacted with some of the brightest young minds and top professors from around the country, and I will be leaving here with so many incredible experiences. But most importantly, Hopkins has given me the courage to gamble on myself.
Hopkins has helped me realize that the return on investment on my future significantly outweighs any price tag that the government or bank can stamp on me. It has taught me that the burden of debt can’t even hold a candle to the bright experiences and fun that awaits me.
If the future were a casino, debt would be blackjack. It is to see how much money you are willing to bet on your hand, and how much the winnings will mean to you as compared to the game itself. But the future is not like a casino. Winning does not always result in a larger sum of money than you initially put in the pot — nor do I wish this to be the case. Instead, you take a gamble and the pay-off can hold a world of possibilities.
Dealer, I’ll hit.
