By Serena Payne '26 in Winter 2025
“POV: You finally share your decision to pursue med1cally assisted de*th.”
These words flash onto my phone screen as my finger instinctively clicks the three dots on an Instagram reels caption to read more. In my doom-scroll state of mind I am unaffected by this radical statement, but its caption sends me down a rabbit hole so intense that I find myself here now, writing an article to make sense of it. The reel caption begins, “My heart is heavy. But after sharing my decision to legally pursue euthanasia in the Netherlands, I’ve definitely learnt that I want to connect more while I’m still here.” Joseph Awuah-Darko’s face is blocked by the long description and soft jazz plays in the background of the unassuming reel. The caption continues, “The Last Supper Project’ is based on the Harvard Study of Adult Development which speaks to the importance of quality relationships and community as the greatest predictor for happiness. And I feel connecting this way around food as a great unifying vessel could be beautiful.”
This reel was produced by Ghanaian artist Joseph Awuah-Darko. Joseph lives with treatment resistant bipolar disorder, an extremely debilitating mental illness that has pushed him to seek assisted suicide. Generally used for physical illness, assisted suicide (also known as legal euthanasia or medial aid in dying) helps individuals nonviolently pass away when the idea of living with their illness seems more painful than its inverse. In his journey to nonviolent death Joseph has sought to foster deep connections and community. He created the “Last Supper Project” as a way to do so, inviting individuals who discover him from his posts to break bread and converse with him in their own homes or zoom meetings. Initially upon discovering Joseph’s story, I was upset by his decisions and project because it felt like an unexplainable paradox. Why make new friends when you’re near the end of your life? His unique interaction with death offers a valuable perspective on what makes life worth living and emphasizes that it is not when or how your life ends that matters, but what you do with the life you have.
It is not my place to evaluate the decision of another individual seeking assisted suicide, and there are so many complex questions to be explored from different lenses, but one thing was made clear to me while I attempted to make sense of this paradox of life and death: we must prioritize connection. Joseph’s unique interaction with life and death promises an end in the foreseeable future. Death is the only inevitable thing in life, yet it remains the most uncertain. Everyone has limited time on Earth but very few people know exactly when they will die. Joseph, in some ways, has a cheat code in his life. His lack of longevity is a reality that he has to face daily, while most of us only question the phrases “YOLO” and “Life is Short” in select moments. Joseph is so aware that he has such little time and he decides to fill it not with academia or creating a legacy, but with community. He offers a different perspective on death, changing it from an isolating experience to a deeply communal footnote for a beautiful life.
I implore you to take Joseph’s story as a call to embrace connection. In a time when academics and future plans seem to be of utmost importance, it is easy to forget that raw human connection is no small thing; it is a true privilege. Take advantage of that privilege. Don’t wait until your days are numbered or you’ve finished your to-do list, seize the opportunity, go out and engage with those around you. Not much is promised in this complex life, and when uncertainty abounds, all that is left is true, deep connection and the people you choose to connect with can tell your story beyond your own lifetime.