My Graduation
On Friday the 13th, I took my graduation gown out of its dry cleaning plastic and put it on for the first time in the campus parking lot, and that’s when it first began to feel real, seeing others in the lot donning their caps and gowns and realizing I was among them. My husband and mom started taking pictures immediately.
I had to split from my family once we got inside, them finding their seats while I went to sign in. Once I’d checked in, they handed me another set of cords to wear, because it turns out I made Magna Cum Laude! Final grades are in, and as I thought, I got A’s in creative writing and drawing, and B’s in Spanish and painting. The very pleasant surprise is I also got an A in sculpture, so my GPA is 3.76. I never even knew what the Cum Laude status really meant until now, because I figured it was only for the super smart people who impressed their teachers and blew all their other classmates out of the water … then I began to realize that maybe that’s exactly what I had done, just by working for the best grades I could get, taking this seriously, and loving the chance to learn again.
It was hard to not look at myself on the big screen as we walked into the coliseum, but those stairs were concrete, and I didn’t want blood, broken bones, and chipped teeth to be among my graduation memories. So most of those pictures catch me watching my step.
Of course they had us lined up in alphabetical order. My last name begins with a T, so I was kind of kicking myself for not keeping my maiden name, which began with a B. Then I looked around the audience, and found my family not only near the front row, but directly to my left! We’d gotten there so early they were able to get great seats, lining them up right next to the row of ‘T’ graduates! I didn’t feel so bad about my spot anymore. This photo gives an idea of how close they were to me.
The ceremony was rather brief, actually. There were thousands of graduates, but the university splits up the graduation over the course of three days, and Friday was the day for Liberal Arts. So there was only one doctorate, a few dozen master’s degrees, and a good 500 bachelor’s degrees to hand out. There were also only two speeches, from the master of ceremonies and the university president, both under two and a half minutes each - no speeches from a valedictorian or salutatorian. Just, “Hi, let me tell you why this is important, now listen to a couple of songs, and here’s your degrees, bye.” It maybe took two hours, tops.
It didn’t matter, I was wiping away tears the whole time. I couldn’t believe I was there, that I’d earned the right to be there. I look back on all those semesters, and as tough as it was sometimes, I think it’s obvious by now that for me it was fun. I love going to school, it’s the one thing I’ve always been really good at. I value the immediate response to my efforts in the form of a grade, the attempts to help me get better when I make mistakes, instead of tearing me down. I love having people notice and appreciate my work ethic and enthusiasm. I am absolutely going to miss it, and a big part of me wishes it weren’t over.
I saw people dancing across the stage, wearing mortarboards decorated in Christmas lights, flashing the kilts worn underneath their gowns, and honoring a ritual of jumping (or being thrown) in the campus river after the ceremony. I didn’t do any of that; I marched across that stage like I’m still a soldier - well except for the smirk on my face - and decided all the honors’ accolades decorating my gown were enough pieces of flair for me. And I sure as hell kept a good distance from that river.
Instead of receiving graduation presents, I decided to give one. There was this young black woman in my photography class last semester, a sophomore struggling to afford school, her work suffering because she was so stressed, and even considering dropping out of college. But I saw her again this semester, still attending and creating really interesting art. She said she and her family prayed on it, and she’s going to pursue her dreams no matter how it forces them to tighten their belts. So a couple of weeks ago I did something that probably looks stupid on paper but makes me feel good whenever I think about it. I gave all my leftover painting and drawing supplies to her. That was probably at least a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of stuff, but I knew I wasn’t ever going to use it again (I’m more of a pencils and markers kind of girl), and I do believe those supplies should be used by someone passionate about creating art. Working with vine charcoal and pastel chalk again was fun, but I don’t think I’ll miss it, and I am certainly done with painting. Trust me, the look on her face when I said it was all hers, and all she had to do for me was not give up on finishing school, was worth it.
I can’t believe I don’t have another semester I need to plan for. I’m already feeling at loose ends, wandering around a house that’s clean from top to bottom, tonight’s dinner finished and tomorrow’s already planned, trying to figure out what I’ll do with my days once Mom flies back to Florida. And of course the job search looms ahead of me, more daunting than it should be. I guess because it represents a big change from where I’ve spent the last few years, the next big chapter in my life, and like most people, that terrifies me. But my mom has told me it’s pointless to be afraid of change, because it comes regardless; all I can do is roll with it as best I can.
Just putting together a résumé is intimidating, trying to figure out what information is pertinent, how to word it to attract an employer’s attention, how to basically sell myself. I’ve never been one to boast or deliberately draw attention, and now I have to get pretty damned good at both overnight just to compete. The nice thing about a ten-year military career is I have a lot I can put down, but when they want résumés to only be one page long, how do I decide what to cut, and make sure the stuff I keep is what employers want to see? I think I may need professional help on this one.
Anyway, this post has gotten way too long, and I still wanted to talk about seeing the Captain America movie this weekend, and this weird situation I have at my local IHOP. I guess those will have to be separate posts.
So, to summarize, YAY ME!!
I had to split from my family once we got inside, them finding their seats while I went to sign in. Once I’d checked in, they handed me another set of cords to wear, because it turns out I made Magna Cum Laude! Final grades are in, and as I thought, I got A’s in creative writing and drawing, and B’s in Spanish and painting. The very pleasant surprise is I also got an A in sculpture, so my GPA is 3.76. I never even knew what the Cum Laude status really meant until now, because I figured it was only for the super smart people who impressed their teachers and blew all their other classmates out of the water … then I began to realize that maybe that’s exactly what I had done, just by working for the best grades I could get, taking this seriously, and loving the chance to learn again.
It was hard to not look at myself on the big screen as we walked into the coliseum, but those stairs were concrete, and I didn’t want blood, broken bones, and chipped teeth to be among my graduation memories. So most of those pictures catch me watching my step.
Of course they had us lined up in alphabetical order. My last name begins with a T, so I was kind of kicking myself for not keeping my maiden name, which began with a B. Then I looked around the audience, and found my family not only near the front row, but directly to my left! We’d gotten there so early they were able to get great seats, lining them up right next to the row of ‘T’ graduates! I didn’t feel so bad about my spot anymore. This photo gives an idea of how close they were to me.
The ceremony was rather brief, actually. There were thousands of graduates, but the university splits up the graduation over the course of three days, and Friday was the day for Liberal Arts. So there was only one doctorate, a few dozen master’s degrees, and a good 500 bachelor’s degrees to hand out. There were also only two speeches, from the master of ceremonies and the university president, both under two and a half minutes each - no speeches from a valedictorian or salutatorian. Just, “Hi, let me tell you why this is important, now listen to a couple of songs, and here’s your degrees, bye.” It maybe took two hours, tops.
It didn’t matter, I was wiping away tears the whole time. I couldn’t believe I was there, that I’d earned the right to be there. I look back on all those semesters, and as tough as it was sometimes, I think it’s obvious by now that for me it was fun. I love going to school, it’s the one thing I’ve always been really good at. I value the immediate response to my efforts in the form of a grade, the attempts to help me get better when I make mistakes, instead of tearing me down. I love having people notice and appreciate my work ethic and enthusiasm. I am absolutely going to miss it, and a big part of me wishes it weren’t over.
I saw people dancing across the stage, wearing mortarboards decorated in Christmas lights, flashing the kilts worn underneath their gowns, and honoring a ritual of jumping (or being thrown) in the campus river after the ceremony. I didn’t do any of that; I marched across that stage like I’m still a soldier - well except for the smirk on my face - and decided all the honors’ accolades decorating my gown were enough pieces of flair for me. And I sure as hell kept a good distance from that river.
Instead of receiving graduation presents, I decided to give one. There was this young black woman in my photography class last semester, a sophomore struggling to afford school, her work suffering because she was so stressed, and even considering dropping out of college. But I saw her again this semester, still attending and creating really interesting art. She said she and her family prayed on it, and she’s going to pursue her dreams no matter how it forces them to tighten their belts. So a couple of weeks ago I did something that probably looks stupid on paper but makes me feel good whenever I think about it. I gave all my leftover painting and drawing supplies to her. That was probably at least a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of stuff, but I knew I wasn’t ever going to use it again (I’m more of a pencils and markers kind of girl), and I do believe those supplies should be used by someone passionate about creating art. Working with vine charcoal and pastel chalk again was fun, but I don’t think I’ll miss it, and I am certainly done with painting. Trust me, the look on her face when I said it was all hers, and all she had to do for me was not give up on finishing school, was worth it.
I can’t believe I don’t have another semester I need to plan for. I’m already feeling at loose ends, wandering around a house that’s clean from top to bottom, tonight’s dinner finished and tomorrow’s already planned, trying to figure out what I’ll do with my days once Mom flies back to Florida. And of course the job search looms ahead of me, more daunting than it should be. I guess because it represents a big change from where I’ve spent the last few years, the next big chapter in my life, and like most people, that terrifies me. But my mom has told me it’s pointless to be afraid of change, because it comes regardless; all I can do is roll with it as best I can.
Just putting together a résumé is intimidating, trying to figure out what information is pertinent, how to word it to attract an employer’s attention, how to basically sell myself. I’ve never been one to boast or deliberately draw attention, and now I have to get pretty damned good at both overnight just to compete. The nice thing about a ten-year military career is I have a lot I can put down, but when they want résumés to only be one page long, how do I decide what to cut, and make sure the stuff I keep is what employers want to see? I think I may need professional help on this one.
Anyway, this post has gotten way too long, and I still wanted to talk about seeing the Captain America movie this weekend, and this weird situation I have at my local IHOP. I guess those will have to be separate posts.
So, to summarize, YAY ME!!