Letters from Campus

[Email #1]

Hey Jas,

Hope Singapore is treating you well! I know I promised to keep you posted, but I’ve got a halfway decent excuse—my head’s spinning. Feels like we just had elections, and suddenly it’s the end of January.

Tommy added me to, like, a hundred Telegram chats. He assured me these are the only ones I need to bother with. Every time I open the app, I feel like I’m being pulled under. He insists I’ll get used to it. We’ll see.

We’ve just gone over the event calendar for the year, and I’m actually optimistic. We’ve got decisions to make on collabs with other boards too. I’m the ultimate newbie, though—an outsider. I’ve been on a study break and have only the faintest clue how this all works.

The funny thing is, management’s utter lack of identity is working in my favor. I’m bland like water, everyone’s pal by default.

I’ve heard marketing and business tech have been tight for ages, though I’ve yet to figure out why. I had lunch with both, and honestly, it’s like third-wheeling with a couple—there’s a connection I haven’t grasped yet.

I believe we should befriend finance. But that’s just me. Everyone keeps painting them as Slytherins, saying they’d never collaborate with anyone.

We met with them a few days ago, and it’s simply not true.

Their chair is an ex-athlete with a perfect GPA and a résumé full of top-notch internships. And their VP is razor-sharp. So pretty too. She could afford to be a bit mean if she wanted. But they’re both warm and friendly.

Then, just as I thought I’d met the coolest people on campus, I went to a beer pong event and met the econ chair. A funny, charming dude—this guy could win over anyone. And he does.

The only board I haven’t connected with yet is accounting. They’re so elusive it’s starting to feel like they might be the villains here.

Did I forget anyone? Oh right, business law. They’re nice, but seem a little out of place. After all, we’re a business school, not a law school.

XO,

Kenny

P.S. I’m glad you’re my VP—I’m sure we can make this work, even from across the world.

[Text Message #1]

The finance bros have issued their fatwa, and it’s official: no association with us. But here’s the thing—if I’m going to be sad, I might as well be sad at the KY Ball. Shame you’re missing it, though. Word is, it’s the most fabulous event of the year. I’ll check and let you know if that’s true.

[Email #2]

Jas. Jas, Jas, Jas…
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The KY Ball was something else. Girls draped in silk, tulle, and satin; guys looking sharp in their tuxes, fresh off ski vacations with their sun-kissed skin, eyes bright with schnapps and wine-fuelled confidence. I was seated with the finance crew—maybe there’s still hope after all. But negotiating with them takes time we don’t have.

Economists, of course, think everyone else is just a sidekick. One actually rolled his eyes when someone mentioned the hype around finance. “Who in their right mind would pick a bull over a bear?”

I had to ask, “Bulls and bears sound very masculine. What about women?”

“The hottest girls? Marketing, hands down.” (Maybe that’s why business tech’s testosterone keeps getting drawn to all those pheromones?)

“And finance?”

“Oh right, them too. All three of them.”

I’m not sure how deep this rivalry runs, but I guess I’m about to find out. The key parties are the ones you’re not invited to, right? I’ve been making my way through the rounds at every board event, piecing together the bigger picture. You know what they say: have a little faith. And if that doesn’t help, have a lot of G&Ts.

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K.

[Text Message #2]

Ne tentes, aut perfice. I’m swapping my desktop for the poker table, Jas. For the next eight hours, the only thing I’m dealing is hands. 

[Email #3]

Hi Jas,

I lost half my chips in the first round, but somehow managed to hang on until the final table. I may not know poker, but I’m learning to play their game.

Econ and finance have their own thing going on, but honestly, it all seems like posturing. They’re more alike than they’d ever admit.

I also met the chair of accounting on one of the Neuvosto trains during the Vappu celebrations. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of champagne we’d had by the time we were belting out Kari Tapio together, but I was deliriously happy she made it. Turns out, we have a lot in common. They’re not Slytherin at all—far from it.

K.

[Text Message #3] 

It seems all the boards are now willing to join in for an all-board event—whatever that ends up being. I have no clue what it’ll look like, but maybe this will work out after all, and Ayn Rand had it right: “The world you desire can be won. It exists, it is real, it is possible, it’s yours.”

[Email #4] 

Jas, I’m desperate for you to get back.

The all-boards event? Even my own boardies bailed on me.

Why are we even trying to unite all the boards? Maybe it’s not that you can’t be friends with everyone—maybe it’s that you shouldn’t be. In business, indecisiveness makes you weak, a pushover. And honestly, this constant amicability is starting to wear thin.

We’ve got more options than Hogwarts—seven houses—and even without a clever sorting hat, sage like an old country singer, most people still end up where they belong, not just professionally, but in terms of mindset and vibe. Our seven boards are the purest distillation of each department. The question I keep circling back to is: do we adapt once we join these programs, or have we always been this way, just waiting for that first year to strip away the pretense?

On Sunday, I went fully off the grid, devoured Capote, and drowned myself in chocolate. Lady Godiva is my only friend at this point—not that I’m complaining.

K.

[Text Message #4]

I can’t believe you’re finally coming back next week. Has half a year really flown by that fast?

[Text Message #5]

Jas, one of the tech guys just told me we’re all Slytherin at Biz. He actually said we’re all the same. The audacity! Imagine!

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