Class of 2020 - your lost generation.

Crossing a stage, for less than 30 seconds, receiving a fake piece of rolled up paper that represents the last most significant portion of your life – spanning years, not just months – may seem trivial and unnecessary to some. But for others, this was a dream, a long awaited and well worked for goal – a fragile reality, that as it turns out was susceptible to breaking.

But it did not just break.

It shattered.

And not just for one.

But for all, globally.

There is an entire class of students around the world who will never get to experience that less than 30 second moment that make the past however-many-years worth it – the moment that solidifies what you have achieved and provides closure for that stage of your life. For a whole year group, there will be no closure.

Within a 24-hour period, I pulled an all-nighter to polish off the last of my finals, only to find out at 8:30am that morning that this would be it – this is the end, say your goodbyes. So much uncertainty, so much confusion and not a whole lot of answers meant that many left that day not saying goodbye, not getting in one last thank you, or giving that final farewell wish. We couldn’t even express to our leaders, people we admired, and people that were so strategic in getting us this far how much we appreciated them, or how much we are unsure of trying to get through this next and final stage without them.

Three hours later, another announcement hit – and this was the bomb, for most, that silenced them all.

The announcement that told us our four years would come down to nothing.

Now we were stripped of a showcase, robbed of a graduation and our final projects highjacked by the pandemic of an eternity.

The final axe in the Class of 2020’s demise, came with the declaration of a crashing economy and a plummeting market.

As I spoke about my employment now being unintentionally terminated, you could see the faces in the room turn speechless as those hired by the university realized they were jobless too.

Then the conversation moved on, and you could feel the hearts stop as we slowly realized the jeopardy of our post-grad plans, and cancellation of internships, job placements and freelance work.

Finally, the whole world stood still as a collective realization occurred that this would not just be a two-week battle, but a long struggle before we return to normality. From my eyes, it may be a struggle, but beautiful and necessary it will be. This is a clean slate, a chance to start over – and we finally have the time for it.

Everything from here on out is up to us.

How hard we work.

How much we put in.

How involved we are.

Set free from the confines of a set schedule, it is our time to make it our own. And we have an opportunity that a generation only gets once – let us use this to reinvent the world, to put our foot on the maps and our chapter in the books.

We may not have a ceremony, or a commencement speaker, but we still have an audience. Let us find ways to light our darkness, create our master pieces out of these blank canvases, and bring others onto the journey of regeneration and self-discovery.

A whole year group of entrepreneurs and innovators, Class of 2020 will not go unheard. From disappointment and heartbreak, we will pave the way for the mobilization and the new digital world our industries so readily require.

This is just the beginning of our time – the time of the lost generation.

Let us build this beautiful new world, together.