One Year After Architecture School
On a day like this last year, I received my final grade and that my journey in architecture was finally and officially over. I was waiting for that day and more than that I was waiting for the day I would get all dolled up, put on my cap and gown, shake hands with my dean, and get handed my degree from her. This cell phone blurry photo was taken by a dear friend of mine from the cap & gown photoshoot my university usually does a few months before the commencement for yearbooks and such.
I was so excited to be wearing the cap and gown that I asked the photographer to give me a few more seconds in them so that my friend can take more pictures of me. He impatiently snatched the cap off my head to give it to the next person in line. His rude gesture didn’t bother me so much because I was sure I will take all the photos I want at the ceremony I waited for since day one in school. That ceremony of course didn’t happen due to COVID-19. I could have borrowed someone’s gown and arranged a photoshoot like many of my friends did, but it wouldn’t have felt real for me. Anyway, barely a month and a half after that day, the Beirut Blast happened. My years of dreaming of my graduation ceremony and dressing up for it faded away. I wore my white helmet and went to the streets of Beirut to pick the pieces of my broken city and my broken heart.
Days and months rolled and here I am one year apart from my graduation. Now, the economic situation is much worse than it was last year. It is so bad that we’re wishing we can go back in time and enjoy them more knowing very well that the circumstances then still weren’t good. I do not mean to romanticize any of what happened in Lebanon since our crisis began. I wish COVID-19 hadn’t taken away so many souls. I wish many families weren’t struggling like they are struggling on all levels today. I wish the blast didn’t take away innocent souls whose only fault was living, working, or passing by the blast’s damage radius.
I am so blessed to have by now collected experience from working with three parties where that work mostly revolved around post-blast relief and development. I see this young lady in that photo from mid-February 2020 as a different person now. She had no idea that her country and world will change soon. She also didn’t know that she will deal with that change bravely and stand by her city and people. I do not intend in any way to portray myself as some resilient hero. I have become more anxious and traumatized than before. My eyes go wide and I jump when I hear any sudden sound. However, I became much stronger and braver than before. I learned so much more about myself and my community. I’ve become so much more attached to my hometown Beirut and all that ties me to it. This year has gone by both slowly and quickly at the same time.
Little did I know that this photo will be one of the very few I will have in a cap and gown. Little did I know that these will be my only short moments in that attire. But now I know that it’s not about graduating. It is about what will one do after taking them off for themselves and the communities they’re in. I have no idea where I’ll be in my life next year. I will work as hard as I can and pray that it’s better than I expect. I also really hope that my country’s situation is so much better than it is today because we deserve to live in dignity again.
