Red Letter Days

Graduation looms over the weary. The cumulation of all the blood, sweat, and tears that your average university student excretes over his or her 4+ year tenure have come to this one point, and it passes rather inconsequentially with a lengthy 2-hour ceremony which climaxes with silly hats being tossed into the sky. After the bouquets are handed out and the pictures are taken, the newly dubbed alumni slowly trickle (or rather, matriculate) out from the gymnasium-converted auditorium, out into the streets, and on with their lives.

I look back to my high school graduation, 4 short-long years ago, and remember the significance of the procession. The ceremony took place outdoors in the pall of oppressive summer heat. They had seated us in alphabetical order and I do not recall who sat to my left or my right. I just kept looking at the floor, trying not to move in my black gown because it would incite furious bouts of itching, heat rashes and perspiration. I sat and sat, vaguely listening to the unending stream of speakers with their formulaic speeches.

A Harvard-bound student spoke of the challenges of adulthood and the promises of success. Her words were carefully chosen and her voice remained firm. She spoke as if she had already gone through the hardships which would ultimately define who she would be. "Let us embrace the future, because it this relentless drive that defines our greatest levels of excellence!" I thought little of those words at the time, much less the significance of its redundancy. I kept my hat on as everyone else threw theirs up and away, which always seems happen in slow motion -- just like in the movies. We then crowded the field, crying, hugging, laughing, and reminiscing one last time. I left the field, the heat finally dissipating as my silhouette grew. I never looked back.

Four years later, I'm back in the same predicament. I'm not wearing the gown and silly hat yet, but I see the uneasy faces of my friends who are making the second huge leap in their lives. I'm pretty sure that the same questions reside in the back of their minds: "Am I going in the right direction?" "Is this who I want to be?" The difference here is that many of these faces appear more resigned to their fate, less optimistically youthful, and ultimately, framed with the clarity of reality. There is no greater sobering ingredient to a person than the choices presented to them from which they must make and commit to. Hopefully, instead of thinking about the heat and the dreary speeches, people will actually think, and think damn hard, about which fork to take next.

So say your goodbyes now, farewells in the evening, and save those thank-yous for next week Monday. And make sure to throw away that stupid hat.