Also known as the march of the funny hats…
Being absolutely exhausted of all things to do with school, I didn’t even feel the urge to blog about my graduation ceremony that occurred last month. I can only recall the calmness with which I floated through the procession, picked up my robe and hat, then wait… and wait…and wait for the celebration to begin. I wasn’t at all certain who besides my immediate family and friend, Dalia would be there to see me walk across the stage, but one thing was for sure – I did not feel alone.
Wedged in between my fellow classmates (none of which I’d ever seen before), I was number 109, a fitting reflection of the lack of personal touch that can only be compared to being part of a random study group. Surrounded by hundreds of strangers; young’ns, go-getters, and life changers ready to take on a world I’m already a part of. However, unlike our years in class – we felt comfortable enough to converse with one another. As it turned out, I was second in line to a young mother, and in front of an older mother, whose own daughter had graduated the year before. She was so touched with her accomplishment she fought back tears a few times during the ceremony. These two women made me realize, that I was not an anomaly; that many of these students have fought and persevered to achieve something that may not have seemed possible at one point or another. I listened to their stories of career changes, and previous studies to which they had committed themselves – only to change direction and a few years later.
Not unlike my story, is it? So we sat, eyes blinded by the piercing stage lights, facing the crowd of supporters and watched the procession of the accordion players, faculty, grad students, honourary degree recipient, and the chancellor who waved a funny looking wand and sat on a ‘throne’( seriously, its called a mace ), I felt honoured to be amongst them all. Every now and then I let myself tune out and dream of the day when my own son would saunter across that stage. It was the only moment where I caught myself getting a little teary eyed. Other times I had the sudden urge to watch Harry Potter. All those colourful get ups and strange hats and whatnot. Anyway – when it was my turn to walk across the stage, I was welcomed by the bellowing sounds of my husband, children, friend, mother and brother who were there to witness those seemingly final steps. In truth, they were first steps – Ad meliora. Attending that ceremony gave me comfort in the confirmation of the efforts put forth by myself and those around me, as well as setting an example for the children. I often remember my own mother’s graduation. And so when the Chancellor uttered those sweet, sweet words, ‘Admitto vos ad gradum’… I exhaled a great sigh of relief.
It was wonderful…
