Commencements – Spring, 2010

[dedalus_1947]

Commencement:
The first existence of anything;
The act or fact of commencing;
The rise, origin, beginning, or start.
(Webster: 1913)

I could hear the buzzing of student energy, and feel the crackling of their excitement, as I stood across the street on Turnpike Road. Cars were whizzing by, but some were turning into a parking lot ahead, or stopping momentarily along the curb to deposit students with blue and red gowns draped over their arms. With a break in the stream of cars, I jogged across the street to the high school. My sister-in-law Anne had advised parking on the nearby streets to avoid the congestion of cars and crowds, and then making my way to the athletic field entrance. Following the flow of students and other pedestrians, I paralleled the low-slung classrooms and school buildings until I came to the gates leading into the parking lot and athletic fields beyond. Bands of elegantly dressed girls in summer skirts and high heels, and boys in white shirts and ties, were exiting their cars and walking toward the interior of the school. Laughing and talking as they hurried past, the students looked remarkably confident and casual in the sunglasses they wore, and the bright red and blue mortarboard caps and gowns they carried. Looking above the cement basketball courts, I spotted my goal. A long line of spectators stretched out along the walkway to the baseball fields and the football stadium beyond. That was where I was to meet Anne who was waiting in line for admission to the stadium. I couldn’t help smiling as more balloon-bearing families arrived and hurried up the ramp. This was a special event for the moms, dads, and relatives who were queuing up, but it was a critical crossroad for their graduating children. This was their time, and the whole universe seemed to turn upon them at this moment. This was graduation day at San Marcos High School and the commencement ceremony would begin in about 90 minutes.


 

I easily found Anne about 20 people from the entrance to the stadium. She wore a trim black blouse and skirt that gave her a professional and business-like appearance among the casually dressed spectators in jeans and golf shirts. She gave me a big hug and a kiss, and told me how appreciative she and Greg were of my coming all the way from Los Angeles for the ceremony.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said. “I was disappointed at not being at Peter’s Confirmation two years ago. I definitely wasn’t going to miss this ceremony. Kathy sends her regrets, but she’s still making final preparations for her own school’s graduation tomorrow”.
“We understand,” Anne said, kindly. “I just can’t believe you’d come all this way for a high school graduation. Now, you do know that public school decorum is very different from Catholic school ceremonies, right? This won’t be a Louisville graduation.”
“I understand that,” I replied. “I was in charge of supervision when I was the Assistant Principal at Granada Hills High School, so I know all about beach balls, air horns, and stupid tricks on stage. Those behaviors are pretty common at all public high schools – or at least they were. It was pretty bad in the late 80’s and early 90’s, but school are clamping down now.”
“Really!” she exclaimed. “It happens at all public high schools? When I first saw those things at Clark’s graduation from Dos Passos High School I was horrified. They even had a streaker during the ceremony. It was crazy. I’m hoping they are better behaved tonight. Peter said they had to sign contracts promising to behave. I hope it works. What did you do about graduations when you were a principal?”
“Well, I’ve been in middle schools for the last 24 years, and 8^th grade students who qualify for culmination don’t usually pull those stunts. But I always met with them in the auditorium and went over my expectations of their behavior and reviewed the consequences. It really depends on the principal’s relationship with the students. If they knew me, trusted and respected me, I convinced them that polite behavior was important for them and their families. It always worked for me. But high school seniors are different.  Some of those 18-year old kids go a little crazy with graduation and there’s really nothing the school can do to them after the ceremony. It is an emotional time. Their entire world changes after this event: leaving home, family, and friends, and going to college or work. It’s almost like starting a new life, and it can be scary. Some kids go a little nuts.”
“I hope this one goes well,” Anne concluded.


 

The gates to the bleachers opened soon after, and we quickly saved some seats under the press box, strategically located to see the full sweep of the processional parade, the stage, and the graduates on the field. It was a beautiful day – sunny and bright without being hot. The Santa Ynez Mountains loomed green in the background, contrasting beautifully against the baby blue sky, streaked with vapor trails of clouds. The emerald turf was thick and lush, and the northern end of the field was decorated with balloon pylons of red and blue, tall plant columns, and potted floral arrangements surrounding a wide stage. The center piece was eight long rows of gleaming white chairs that stretched across the verdant gridiron. The stands began filling quickly with guests and family, and my brother-in-law Greg, and their son Clay soon joined us. At about a quarter to 5, the school choir marched out, along the track, dressed in black dresses and blue shirts and ties, alerting the crowd to the gathering of faculty and graduates in their formal caps and gowns, at the far, southern end of the field. Precisely at 5 o’clock, the first set of trios and pairs began processing down the track. The principal and board members came first, followed by selected pairs of the faculty and staff. Then, greeted by long, loud, and continuing shouts and cheers, pairs of graduates commenced their carefree saunter along the track. Waving and smiling, the students occasionally looked up at the crowd trying to recognize faces in the stands.
“There he is!” cried Anne, pointing at two boys in the procession. I raised my camera and began snapping pictures of my godson and nephew Peter. Wearing an electric-blue gown, festooned with a violet and white lei, and gold, CSF (California Scholastic Federation) Seal bearer cords around his neck, the tall and handsome, young man, smiled confidently as he walked past us. This was his day.


 

The months of May and June mark the graduation season of every academic year. It’s a time of great celebration and the benchmarking of the maturity (aging) and scholastic progress of sons, daughters, friends, and relatives. I first wrote of the Commencement Season in 2007, on the occasion of my niece, Maria Teresa’s graduation from Louisville High School (see Secular Sacrament). I loved the piece because it gave me a chance to write about a ceremony that took me back to my own daughter’s graduation, and the anguish of separation that followed when she went off to college. It gave me a chance to relive those feelings, and perhaps give some warning to the parents of that year’s graduating class: Tootie and Johnny, the parents of Maria, and Greg and Anne, the parents of Clark, the brother of Clay and Peter. This year’s events were different. They covered every important grade level and age group. My sisters-in-law, Meg and Beth graduated from Mount Saint Mary’s College with Masters of Science degrees in Education, and attended an Accolade Ceremony on May 7, 2010. Greg and Anne’s eldest son, Clay graduated from Loyola Marymount University on May 9^th with a Bachelor of Arts degree in English. As noted above, Peter graduated from San Marcus High School on June 3, 2010, and his cousin Grace, the daughter of my nephew Jeff and his wife Lynn, graduated from elementary school on June 4^th. Except for Grace’s graduation in Chicago, I attended all of the ceremonies (or after-parties) this year. I even caught the middle school culmination of my last class of 8^th graders at MASH Middle School on June 17, 2010. All of those ceremonies and events were special, satisfying, and meaningful, but honestly, high school graduations are unique. This secondary school rite signifies a momentous turning point in the lives of the graduates and their parents: an ending, and a beginning, for the parents and their children.


 

The commencement ceremony at San Marcus High School was an enjoyable surprise. The ceremonies started exactly on time. None of the antics Anne and I were dreading occurred. The students were resplendent in their robes, and their actions were joyful, energetic, and appropriate. Best of all, it was short – ending in 90 minutes. The only adult to speak was the principal, who kept his welcoming remarks brief. The Valedictorian and Salutatorian were two girls who received awards for their academic achievement, followed by selected speeches from two other girls – one, a student immigrant from Mexico, and the other, the senior class president. I found them to be an interesting contrast in appearance, style, and content, especially in this year, where Arizona and the immigration question are such volatile issues in the country.


 

The first speaker was Maria, a tiny, raven-haired young lady, with chiseled, bronze features and sparkling, dark eyes. She was the first senior to graduate from the school’s Heath Career Academy. Her speech was a simple story of coming to California as a child, so her parents could find work and a better life in America. Entering kindergarten without knowing a single word of English, she trusted her parent’s belief that an education held the promise of a profession and a better future, and worked hard to excel. She thanked her parents for their constant support and encouragement, and the director and the teachers of the Health Career Academy for putting her on the path to a junior college, while working as a Health Care assistant with her high school certificate and diploma. As she repeated her speech in Spanish, for the non-English-speaking audience, I couldn’t help feeling inspired and optimistic about this attractive, hardworking, and conscientious young woman. I hoped she would not limit herself to junior college, but continue forward with a university education in Nursing or Medicine. I also wondered about the choice of making her the featured speaker. The mission of every academic institution in America is to produce intelligent, critically thinking, and compassionate citizens who participate ethically in the democratic, social, and economic systems of the nation. This young girl was what every educator wanted as a student, and what every nation hoped for as a citizen. I prayed that the English-speaking audience saw the desire, talent, and contributions that immigrants brought to this country, and how an open, and accessible education system was vital to the national success.


 

The second speaker was Julia, a tall, and longhaired, blonde girl with a peachy complexion and glistening blue eyes. She gave a nostalgic and humorous narration of the events of the last four years in high school: the football games, pep rallies, dances, classes, and teachers. She spoke of their scholastic and athletic achievements as students, and the adventures yet to come. It was a pretty standard speech, and one you expected to hear at a high school commencement. I felt that this young girl was representative of the majority of the graduating seniors at this school. They seemed to be predominately white, middle, to upper-middle class kids, with professional parents, and similar life trajectories. She and her friends would be leaving home, going to colleges, establishing new social relationships, and pursuing degrees in different majors. Her speech captured the simplicity of the moment and the uncertainty of the future: it was funny, joyful, scary, and exciting. Upon completion of her remarks, the program moved swiftly to the presentation of diplomas and the reading of the graduates’ names.


 

The students clearly chose to avoid stupid and distasteful stunts. In fact the only annoying noises came from the spectators, who were sufficiently distant from the stage so as not to interfere, or drown out the sound system. There were no crude or obscene antics – no streaking, flashing, or mooning.  There were no blowing of air horns, or doing cartwheels on stage. Only one beach ball was tossed among the seated students, and it was quickly recovered by the sergeants at arms, sitting covertly in the back row throughout the ceremony. I learned later from Peter, that the only questionable things some boys did was to shake the principal’s hand with an object in the own hand – a handful of grass or a dime, 10 cents representing the class of ’10. We did see some planned and spontaneous expressions of student joy at finally receiving their diplomas: hugging, high-fives, chest bumps, and honor tunnels. After the last name was read, the Board of Education member confirmed their diplomas and directed the students to move their tassels to the opposite side of their mortarboard caps. With that, the ceremony was over and the celebration began with caps being flung into the air. The faculty and guests quickly vacated the stage, and left the field to the graduates and the mob of descending spectators. As though stunned by the sudden conclusion, the graduates milled around the field, waiting to be reunited with their parents, family, and friends. The proud guests quickly turned the field into a paparazzi festival. Anne, Greg, Clay, and I joined in, watching and taking pictures of Peter and his friends posing and mugging for countless photographs.


 

The song they played on the football field during that gridiron "reception" probably summed it up best:

Another turning point;
a fork stuck in the road.
Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test
and don’t ask why.
It’s not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It’s something unpredictable
but in the end it’s right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
(Good Riddance, or The Time of Your Life – Green Day: 1994)


 

I was glad to be there and witness a special time in the life of a mother, father, brother, son, and godson. To get a feeling of what I was trying to describe, look at the Flickr album I put together of that event: 2010-06-03 High School Graduation.

Good Luck, Peter!