Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Pomp and circumstances
I haven't intentionally been ignoring this blog. I've just been running at full steam the last couple of weeks. This is my busiest time of year work-wise.
I attended two high-school graduations, a nursing pinning ceremony and I have another nursing ceremony tomorrow eve. This is a great time of year. The high school graduations are the best. The kids I work with usually have a lot of obstacles to clear in order to taste even a tiny bit of success, so I get a great deal of satisfaction in seeing someone who's beat the odds be handed a hard earned diploma.
This year, one graduate in particular is a kid whose mother gave up on her a year ago, who couldn't be bothered to drive her to summer school. I and my co-workers stepped up and made sure she got to school and, with a little convincing, she got into an independent living program. As I watched her walk at her graduation, I couldn't have been more proud of her if she'd been my own child.
The memory of my own high school graduation is really vague. I was experiencing a period of high drama at the end of my senior year (1969 - w00t!). I'd just broken up with my boyfriend which caused all kinds of teen-aged trauma - to the extreme. "If he kills himself, then I'll kill myself..." "If you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself..." "Well, if he kills himself and you and you kill yourselves then...." Shakespeare would've been proud. There was even speculation that the mass suicides would make the cover of Life magazine.
I ended up being grounded by my parents who, largely clueless, just couldn't deal with the histrionics. I was to go to the graduation then straight home. All I remember was sitting there and watching one of the jocks walk up for his diploma and listening to the cheers. I have absolutely no recollection of making the walk myself. Our class was so huge, it's entirely possible that we didn't walk, that the only diplomas given out were to top students and the athletic stars. I later learned that my parents weren't even there. They said they weren't able to get in it was so crowded. I've never been convinced that was entirely true.
Just as I was never convinced my Dad was on a sales trip for work which caused him to miss my sixth grade graduation. But both parents were there for my college graduation - 1972. Many of us sported red arm bands worn in protest to the US bombings of Cambodia. I was also part of a small group who technically did not graduate until the end of the summer (I had some credits to, er, recover). We had to sit off to the side and were instructed not to stand for recognition at the end of the ceremony, nor were we to flip our tassels.
Well, I would have none of that. My inner rebel roused and I sent word down the row that we would stand and be recognized and we would most definitely flip our damn tassels. And that we did. The rest of the graduation weekend was spent packing and loading up my three years of college life. It was lonely, though. I was never part of any tight group of friends while there and and those groups were spending their time saying goodbye to each other and sharing those BFF moments.
So - I make the effort to get to the graduation ceremonies of the kids who've come through our program. I cheer and w00t for them - sometimes I'm the only one cheering. They all get cards and a hearty congratulations. My reward is the huge smiles and an occasional "Wow, you came to my graduation!"
If you're ever in need of a little renewal, or are looking for a way to banish the blues, I highly recommend going to a high-school graduation ceremony. It's certainly served me well as my own brand of B-12 spirit boost.
I attended two high-school graduations, a nursing pinning ceremony and I have another nursing ceremony tomorrow eve. This is a great time of year. The high school graduations are the best. The kids I work with usually have a lot of obstacles to clear in order to taste even a tiny bit of success, so I get a great deal of satisfaction in seeing someone who's beat the odds be handed a hard earned diploma.
This year, one graduate in particular is a kid whose mother gave up on her a year ago, who couldn't be bothered to drive her to summer school. I and my co-workers stepped up and made sure she got to school and, with a little convincing, she got into an independent living program. As I watched her walk at her graduation, I couldn't have been more proud of her if she'd been my own child.
The memory of my own high school graduation is really vague. I was experiencing a period of high drama at the end of my senior year (1969 - w00t!). I'd just broken up with my boyfriend which caused all kinds of teen-aged trauma - to the extreme. "If he kills himself, then I'll kill myself..." "If you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself..." "Well, if he kills himself and you and you kill yourselves then...." Shakespeare would've been proud. There was even speculation that the mass suicides would make the cover of Life magazine.
I ended up being grounded by my parents who, largely clueless, just couldn't deal with the histrionics. I was to go to the graduation then straight home. All I remember was sitting there and watching one of the jocks walk up for his diploma and listening to the cheers. I have absolutely no recollection of making the walk myself. Our class was so huge, it's entirely possible that we didn't walk, that the only diplomas given out were to top students and the athletic stars. I later learned that my parents weren't even there. They said they weren't able to get in it was so crowded. I've never been convinced that was entirely true.
Just as I was never convinced my Dad was on a sales trip for work which caused him to miss my sixth grade graduation. But both parents were there for my college graduation - 1972. Many of us sported red arm bands worn in protest to the US bombings of Cambodia. I was also part of a small group who technically did not graduate until the end of the summer (I had some credits to, er, recover). We had to sit off to the side and were instructed not to stand for recognition at the end of the ceremony, nor were we to flip our tassels.Well, I would have none of that. My inner rebel roused and I sent word down the row that we would stand and be recognized and we would most definitely flip our damn tassels. And that we did. The rest of the graduation weekend was spent packing and loading up my three years of college life. It was lonely, though. I was never part of any tight group of friends while there and and those groups were spending their time saying goodbye to each other and sharing those BFF moments.
So - I make the effort to get to the graduation ceremonies of the kids who've come through our program. I cheer and w00t for them - sometimes I'm the only one cheering. They all get cards and a hearty congratulations. My reward is the huge smiles and an occasional "Wow, you came to my graduation!"
If you're ever in need of a little renewal, or are looking for a way to banish the blues, I highly recommend going to a high-school graduation ceremony. It's certainly served me well as my own brand of B-12 spirit boost.
Posted at 6:53 PM | |
