The class of 2020 is graduating, so what now? (2024)

Four years ago, the graduating class of 2020 was finishing their last moments of highschool from a computer. The long-awaited graduation ceremony would be replaced by a diploma in the mail, or, in the best case scenario, a drive-by at school where students could wave to their teachers one last time. But now, in a couple of weeks, these students will finally be able to move their tassels from left to right and throw up their caps in honor of a triumphant, if unconventional, undergrad experience.

It’s hard to imagine campus without thousands of students walking through Red Square or a sea of purple and gold on game days. But this was the reality of freshman year for members of the class of 2024. And while this year was at times isolating and full of the unknown, it seems that these seniors have found a way to look back on it and focus on feeling gratitude for where they are now.

Madeleine Canlis, a senior studying social welfare, lived in a house with twelve girls her freshman year. While the only interaction with classmates was over Zoom, the bonds Canlis made with those housemates were incredibly special given the circ*mstances.

“When the gym was closed, we all went on runs together,” Canlis said. “And when coffee shops were closed we [bought] a Facebook marketplace espresso machine.”

Movies, books, and conversations with older generations recounting “the good old days” depict college as a time of branching out and making lots of new friends and memories. Such experiences were delayed for the class of 2024, but when campus started to open up again, its students were ready.

“We definitely re-entered with so much enthusiasm, and were just doubly excited for everything that was available … anything we were invited to, we were there early,” Canlis said. “And I almost, like in a weird way, look fondly on my freshman year because it was … just this little bubble of time where reality felt so different.”

Marek Magaña was one of the many individuals who had the joy of living in the dorms his freshman year. Queue the sarcasm.

Magaña is a senior majoring in English with a double minor in education and music and is originally from Orange County, California. Magaña, like hundreds of others, moved to a big, brand new city, hundreds of miles away from home, just to sit on his computer in his dorm.

UW is known for its freshmen welcome week Dawg Daze, which hosts a plethora of events, from major info sessions to yoga in the Quad. Needless to say, Magaña did not get the full experience with Dawg Daze being online.

With over 1,000 RSO’s, UW has options for everyone. But after scrolling through the lists and finding all of them to be virtual, people like Magaña lost steam. After attending a couple virtual board game meetings, Magaña gave up.

“[It was] really hard to make meaningful connections and put yourself out there in any capacity,” Magaña said. “I [didn’t] want to join a club online … or meet people necessarily online just because, at that point, I was already so sick of it.”

Magaña was drawn to UW because of its massive size and plethora of opportunities, but he wasn’t able to take advantage of either his first year. Magaña is now able to pursue his passion for music as a member of a couple of bands, both rock and jazz. With desolate dorms and rows of shut doors during his freshman year, however, Magaña wasn’t meeting new band mates anytime soon.

But, as it happens, they were right downstairs.

Now, years later, Magaña and his band have pieced the puzzle together and realized they lived in the same dorm, just a floor apart, their freshman year. COVID-19 and limited social circles kept these musical geniuses from a groundbreaking collab, but at least they found each other eventually.

Cade Didrickson, a senior majoring in marketing and international business, reminisced on both the low lows and high highs of his first year at UW.

“[Fall 2020] was depressing … that was just a tough quarter,” Didrickson said. “[I spent] 10 hours a day in my room. When I wasn't doing school, I was playing video games, not talking to anyone.”

Midway through winter quarter of 2021, Didrickson moved into a house with other friends close to campus, and hope for his college experience was restored.

“All of a sudden, life went from black and gray to full color,” Didrickson said. “It was just a very stark contrast from being at home and not doing anything to being in such a vibrant, flourishing community with no other distractions. And we were just stuck here altogether.”

Didrickson recalled capitalizing on the beautiful weather in Seattle that spring by playing Spikeball for hours, the noise of Panopto recordings at 2x speed drifting somewhere in the distance. When asked if Didrickson could somehow take COVID-19 out of his freshman year, the reply was simple.

“It was a year of just a lot of excitement and growth and new things … I wouldn't have changed it.” Didrickson said.

Every time I walk through campus and see someone taking their grad photos outside of Suzzallo or in front of the W, I can’t help but smile. Four years ago, these students didn’t know if this day would come. And now, the day has, indeed, come, but this doesn’t mean it was without its hardships.

No one imagines their first leap into adulthood after highschool to be navigating a pandemic while attending a school, but never entering a classroom. When this class walks across the stage in June, they will be walking to commemorate these bizarre college years and also honor the highschool graduation they never had. Things were far, far, from normal for these students and yet they persevered, and for that, I hope they feel extremely proud and celebrated.

Reach writer Cora LaFollette at specials@daily.com. X: @cora_lafollette

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