3 Cheers For 4 Years

(As I sit here, on these grey chairs facing the stage, Pin/Deanna/Ruiying’s dancers are going through their dry run and man, they are killing it. You guys are in for a treat tonight, that’s for sure.)

Why did I write this? Well... Josh can turn a band of musical novices into rockstars, Pin can create a beautiful dance out of a bunch of stiff limbs, Ryan has the artistic talent to design an intricate banner and me? I suppose I can attempt to put into words what a ride this command journey has been for me, and hopefully us all.

To the FYFs, if this, or some part of this, resonates with you, then I’m glad we shared these experiences. To the juniors, if this encourages you to strive to command or just to stay that extra year in hall, then more power to you.

The funny thing is, like many others, I was one of the “stay one year then see how, probably go home” mentality in Y1. But after watching Command in Y1, I thought, “man it must be nice to perform on stage - a swan song to 4 years of memories, 4 years of friendships, 4 years of KR ”. Lo and behold, I ended up here. It doesn’t seem as glamourous away from the bright lights of command day itself - late night sweaty rehearsals with uncooperative limbs and shaky voices, long days spent painting banners and arranging chairs. But as it comes together, like everything else in hall, it really is worth it.

I would liken command to freshman orientation. Think about it - you’re going out of your comfort zone, doing things you’re not actually good at, with people from your batch (some of whom are strangers), on stage, while other people laugh at you. Sound vaguely familiar?

But beginnings always feel infinite, with the knowledge that you’ll indefinitely see your friends around hall long after you’ve sung the family song on the last day of FWOC. On the other hand, every command rehearsal, every dry run, comes with a sense of finality. For so many of us, it’ll be the (first and) last time singing together, dancing together, or otherwise making a fool of ourselves, together.

As we rehearse singing High Hopes kneeling on stage, it’s not hard to imagine the crowd below; faces of our hall mates staring up at us, cheering, clapping for our farewell song. It’s the warm familiarity of family, with the heaviness of goodbye. No matter what may come after this phase of our lives, we’ll always have our times in Kent Ridge Hall to look back on with fondness in our hearts.

Thank you, KR.