3 Years, 3 Graduations, 3 Different Worlds

 

As a parent, college graduation comes with moments of pride paired with angst.

Pride in their big picture accomplishments, angst over the logistics.

Pride over this rite of passage, angst over making sure "everyone is happy.”

Leading up to graduation the student is finishing senior week, long days and nights of papers and parties, worries about packing up, sadness about leaving school, fraught about their next move, already missing their friends, unsure what to make of the fact that everyone keeps telling them these are the best days of their lives.

Eons ago in 2019 we went to Philadelphia with the usual graduation weekend challenges: finding a centrally located hotel, landing dinner reservations at the sought-after restaurants, transportation for the grandparents.

In 2020 we were spared the pleasure and the pain when it was canceled due to the emergence of Covid. A letter from the Dean stated in stark terms that they are canceling graduation and will “celebrate these seniors at a later date.” This was a gut punch at the time, it improved with age.

Our 2022 graduation felt normal with a hint of Covid sprinkled in. Worried about the logistics but the coronavirus still hung in the air like the remnants of a bad sneeze. Does the restaurant have outdoor seating, should the kids get near the grandparents, is Tipitinas really a good idea? 

It was on our minds, just not top of it. Maybe that’s why many of us returned from New Orleans with head-cold cases of the virus, typical of this vintage.

This year also brought a make-up graduation for the cancelled 2020 version, in what they appropriately called the “Comeback Commencement.” It felt a lot like a timely graduation with all the caps and gowns, pomp and circumstances of the original, but it was different. It was better...for the graduates.

The Comeback Commencement was equal parts reunion and victory lap. It was more comeback than prepare to check out.

There was still the need to land hotel rooms and dinner reservations, but the campus was emptier and more manageable. The kids were happy to be there, not stressed about leaving. They hadn’t spent the previous week staying up all night partying, they’d spent it working at their jobs, collecting a paycheck, making their own transportation plans.

At the make-up graduation they were enjoying this moment that had been taken away, made better by the distance and the delayed gratification. The comeback graduates better understood the need to enjoy the moment because on the other side of Sunday their adult lives were waiting, with projects to finish and emails to return.

The difference in perspective was laid bare by the calls and texts leading up to the two commencements. I heard excitement from one daughter and dread from the other. One felt like a commencement, the other like a termination:

“I’m so excited to see my friends” vs. “I’m so sad to say goodbye to everyone.”

“I can’t wait to get a Zingermans sandwich” vs. “I can’t believe it’s the last time I’ll have pizza at the Boot”

“I'm gonna walk through the Diag without having to go to the library” vs. “I just had my last walk in Audubon Park.”

In two years our daughter went from graduation apprehension to carefree commencement.

A suggestion: Let Seniors leave campus after final exams, get on with their lives and then bring them back for graduation. Let their lives commence before commencement.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile you could miss it." F. Bueller

Graduation Cancelled, Life Postponed, the Kids are Alright

Mine was cold and rainy.  Hers was sun-drenched.

We drank cheap champagne. Really cheap. She ate expensive Zingermans, and without the wait.

Someone must have had a disposable camera and taken these lovely pictures that show the grayness of the day and the distinct lack of pomp and circumstance.  Her day was meticulously documented on Snapchat and Instagram.

This weekend my daughter graduated from the same university I left 31 years ago.

Our speaker was unremarkable.  I had to Google the speech to remember who spoke and what he said.

She watched on Zoom.  Some friends put together a makeshift commencement speech and everyone worked really hard to make it nice.

Graduation is like New Year's Eve, lots of build up and often, no delivery.

Had we been in Ann Arbor there would have been complaints:  it's too hot, it's too cold, this person spoke too long or too short.  There was none of that.

The moms made up a poem and read it to the girls. Throughout the weekend everyone got Face-time with the graduate and it was memorable.

There's been an outpouring of concern, lamenting what these kids lost or how they were gypped out of their day.

Rituals are important, they create memories.  But sometimes it's the hiccup in the line of rituals that makes them memorable.

The graduation cancellation is a microcosm of the past 7 weeks. The frustrations and disappointments of daily life fade away and the world is a little fresher because we are putting a new stamp on it.

But I am impressed watching this generation surf these waves of disappointment: Interviews on hold, jobs postponed, internships cancelled, plans changed.

In the words of Pete Townsend, "The Kids Are Alright."

There have been tears during these four years.  I remember the moment she found out she had gotten in.  It was during winter break, when "everyone" had heard the day before.  The website kept crashing and then, the tears.

The moment she walked into that dorm, we drove away and I thought we'd never have her home again...Tears, although they were mine.

The ups and downs of life at college are bound to bring successes and disappointments.  But the moment she got a text from the University saying "classes are cancelled, go home," must have been the worst.

She texted me and said, "I think I just walked out of my final college class." (tears)

That's the part that stings.  Her mindset had been:  Two more months of closure, final parties, final trips to Skeeps, final favorite meals, and then someone tells you that you've already had the last one.  No more classes, no more crowded bars or pre-games.  Those are hard moments for a college kid. For

anybody.

But they rolled with it, made it home (more tears), adjusted their lens, found new ways to apply for jobs and finish out their classes. And at the end of the weekend, after all the planning and re-planning the consensus was, they felt loved.

It wasn't what they planned, and that's okay. A great lesson to finish out their college career.  "The kids are alright."