Graduation Day: A Journey of Growth, Doubt, and Gratitude

This morning started like any other—typical me. I woke up and realized I didn’t have a haircut. Graduation day, and of course, I’m scrambling. After calling around the city, I finally managed to secure a last-minute appointment. Crisis averted.

The graduates were set to arrive at 1:30 PM. I walked in at 2:50. Typical. I laughed to myself as I joined the line, thinking how symbolic this was of my time at McMaster—always cutting it close, but somehow, always finding a way.

As I stood there, surrounded by my peers, the ceremony had already begun. It was an odd feeling. Anticipation mingled with nostalgia. The thought of walking across the stage felt monumental, but also surreal.

As I moved closer to the stage, my mind raced with memories of the years gone by. I thought about the people I’ve met, the nights spent at the library, and all the laughter shared with friends when we were supposed to be studying. I thought about the younger students I’ve mentored, each one leaving a mark on my heart. Just as I had once walked into Thode Library feeling lost, unsure of what lay ahead, I saw the same uncertainty in their eyes. And I saw them rise above it, just as I did.

When I first came to McMaster, I wasn’t sure about anything. I remember my first-ever class—1JC3. Curtis, the professor, told us something that stuck with me: "In first and second year, many students will feel imposter syndrome and drop out. But by third and fourth year, everyone who sticks through catches up." He was right.

In those early days, imposter syndrome hit hard. I didn’t feel like I belonged. I threw together my first resume, convinced I was a fraud. But slowly, things started to change. I began experimenting with random technologies, diving into LeetCode, and pouring myself into projects. With every sleepless night spent debugging code or learning something new, I built confidence. Today, I can look at my resume and know it’s real—that every skill and project represents hard work and dedication.

The years have come and gone, and I’ll always love McMaster. It’s more than a university—it’s the people, the memories, and the transformation it brought in me.

I can’t help but think back to the night I came home from prom in grade 12. I had applied to every program imaginable—science, business, engineering—because I had no idea what I wanted to do. Accepting my offer to McMaster felt like a leap of faith. I cried for half an hour that night, unsure if I had made the right decision. Who knew that uncertainty would lead to something so perfect? McMaster gave me some of the most important people in my life.

People often ask me about the job market, and my answer is always the same: it doesn’t matter, because I’m lucky enough to have found something I love from the bottom of my soul. If I were doing anything else, I think I’d feel empty. This love for technology, for software, for solving problems—it’s what keeps me going.

To all the special people I met along the way: thank you. To the younger students who came to me for help—you hold a special place in my heart. Watching you persevere through long nights at the library and impossible challenges reminded me of my own journey. You reaffirmed my love for computing and the joy of teaching.

And now, as I sit here in H.G. Thode Library—the place where it all began—I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. No one, in the history of McMaster, has clocked more hours at thode than I have (at least, that’s what I tell myself). This library was my sanctuary, and it feels fitting to spend this moment of reflection here.

As my journey at McMaster comes to an end, I realize it wasn’t so different from anyone else’s. We all faced struggles, doubts, and sleepless nights. And yet, we made it. I’m leaving not just with a degree, but with memories, friendships, and a deeper understanding of who I am.

To McMaster, to my peers, and to all the people who shaped me into the person I am today—thank you.

Alhumdulilah.
Love,
Suleyman