Episode

To The Class of 2026

Podcast
The Nuance Diaries
Published
May 20, 2026
Duration seconds
614
Processing state
not_requested
Canonical source
https://thenuancediaries.substack.com/p/to-the-class-of-2026
Audio
https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/198575923/d1c409643d88e4a38cc5c9cf57576db3.mp3
JSON
/v1/public/podcasts/the-nuance-diaries-7119430/episodes/to-the-class-of-2026
Markdown
/podcast/the-nuance-diaries-7119430/to-the-class-of-2026.md

Actions

  • POST https://stenobird.com/v1/public/podcasts/the-nuance-diaries-7119430/episodes/to-the-class-of-2026/transcription-requests
    Idempotently request low-priority transcript generation for this episode.
  • GET https://stenobird.com/podcast/the-nuance-diaries-7119430/to-the-class-of-2026.md
    Read the agent-friendly Markdown representation of this episode resource.

Summary

This is less of a speech, more of a pep talk, and really — just some reflections from someone coming up on their 10-year college reunion who feels like graduation was just yesterday. Instead of picturing me on a podium in regalia, let’s pretend I’m sitting next to you on the floor of your dorm as you pack up your things, or sitting across from you at brunch after graduation, or in the backseat of the car on your drive back home, or wherever life is taking you next post-college. To the Class of 2026, The day after I graduated from college, I didn’t get out of bed until 5 PM. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t watching TV. I barely texted anyone. I was just scrolling through my Instagram feed and well…lying there completely exhausted. The only reason I got up was to get dinner at a pizza place that no longer exists with a friend I stopped talking to a few years later. It would probably shock my 22-year-old self to read these words, about losing touch with that friend, not the pizza place closing. As a native New Yorker, I’m all too familiar with favorite restaurants, coffee shops, and bookstores closing down. My favorite Barnes and Noble on 86th and Lex is now a Target. The benches by the magazine section where I spent countless hours pouring through glossy pages, have now been replaced with a homeware section. I once leafed through a magazine in that very Barnes and Noble, with a cover highlighting a Hollywood actress and her “hard-won happiness.” That phrase always stuck with me. At the time, I probably didn’t have the self-awareness to admit I was far from truly happy. I did know that I liked the idea of describing happiness as “hard-won.” Those two words made me feel instantly seen and validated, as someone who used to secretly roll her eyes when people talked about waking…