Reflections on Graduation

It’s impossible to fully capture the joy and gratitude I felt last night, but I’ll try. 

It was an amazing day that started with a very fancy brunch to which I invited my friend. I wasn’t feeling comfortable yet so I struggled through some small talk with my table mates, settling into a nice groove with Nan, who was seated next to me and taught me about Worldle and was thrilled to hear about my decision to join the Peace Corps. As we ate and talked, the brunch moved into why we were there: to honor the contributions of the 2024 honorary graduates. It was a genuine privilege to hear from Dr. Barbra Ann Posey who offered us incredible words of encouragement that I will continue to carry with me. She is an incredibly deserving recipient to say the least, as are each of the other three recipients.

After that, I had a few odds and ends to attend to around town. I went back to Norman High and picked up my copy of Soupstone 51! I am privileged to be a published poet alongside many of my brilliant students. It was wonderful to exchange parting words with my mentor teacher who has taught me more than she can ever know. Student teaching was so hard. It was the most challenging, wonderful, long, clarifying period of my life and I know much more about who I am for having had this experience. It was hard, but I did it! It was an intense experience with a lot of self-doubt mixed in with moments of absolute clarity and gratitude that I’m going to hold dear. I’m ready for what comes next.

I turned in my Norman public library books. Go to the library! It’s there as a resource for everyone; it’s also cheaper than buying every book (although it still doesn’t stop me from spending more than I should). When I work surrounded by books I’m reminded of how much there is to see and say and I recall that there’s no way I could do it all in a day. I’ll take in what I can and be back to drink in more tomorrow. The public library has been there to remind me that all I need to do is take a step forward. No one expects more from me day to day. As long as I move forward I’ve been successful. 

I went home and watched Dance Moms. I have nothing profound to pair with that.

My afternoon eked away until it was time to get ready for graduation! I put on a strapless bra that was soon to become the bane of my existence, as well as my dress, and I slung my graduation regalia over my arm to meet my brother who was there to pick me up. 

We met some of my family at Fuzzies, where I got a single grilled shrimp taco because I ate a sandwich at 3:45 on accident. My grandmother, in contempt of the clear bag policy, chose to sew yarn onto a ziplock bag, creating a DIY purse for the night. My family is generous as they are ingenious, and as we ate, they helped me to troubleshoot post-grad plans and fears (and they also gave me cash which is always nice as a [see I wanted to put student here, but that’s not quite right anymore] young adult). Sam and I anxiously kept watch on the time, eager to arrive at the Lloyd Noble Center right at six. At 5:40, it was time to dash.

I am the Outstanding Senior of the College of Education, so I had the privilege of serving in the ceremony as our college’s banner carrier. Even with this special responsibility, though, arriving at six was very overkill. I waffled in the gym for a few moments. I got directed towards the banners. I exchanged very awkward small talk with a fellow education student: “Are you a banner carrier?” I mumbled quickly, a bit embarrassed. “A what?” “A banner carrier” I repeated louder. “Oh… um, no. I’m just waiting for, you know, like, my friends.” I got back on my feet and talked to her about her major (early childhood education) and congratulated her for her accomplishment. See, I love being recognized but if anyone recognized this love of recognition I think I would die. Once I write this out I realize that everyone loves validation, but I do always want to pair my satisfaction with humility as a rule of thumb.

Shortly after, I met Jemma, the banner carrier for the college of international studies. We introduced ourselves and exchanged concern over not being sure what to do. As we talked, a staff member approached us and told us exactly where and when to go. All night long, the staff facilitating graduation gave encouragement, support, and clear instructions that put me, anxious worrier, at ease. 

I met the other banner carriers, almost each of which were just as worried as I was. We eased each other into our roles, soothing each other when we needed it. When I struggled to pull my banner out of the base, Jemma stepped in smoothly. Amy took my picture in front of my banner after Jemma took Amy’s picture in front of hers. 

The faculty gushed out of the gym. It was almost time!!! I threw up my banner a bit too enthusiastically, throwing myself off balance. I caught myself. I squared my shoulders. Time to walk. My first graduation! My proudest accomplishment, escorted in by a bagpipe ensemble, rows and rows of students connected in their achievements. Not six feet apart and in masks like at my high school graduation. 

I lifted the banner high. Later, my brothers told me that I held my banner the highest by a noticeable margin. I was proud! I was grinning ear to ear. I felt so at home. Anything beyond this moment was static to me. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I was coming down from some sort of cold-allergy-cough disease, so any strong emotion tickled my throat and made me cough. I swallowed it back as much as I could when my fellow banner carriers made conversation with me back in the tunnels after we had done our duty.

We waited for a moment, and then we got to go back out and sit on stage! Some people might not believe me when I say that I think of myself as awkward, but I do, so I was surprised when I slid into a rhythm with these other students I hadn’t met before. We celebrated each other. We hadn’t met before that night, but each of us recognized each other for our accomplishments. 

When it was time for the college of education undergraduates to walk, I was shuffled in with the social studies cohort to give me the most time to get back to the stage. Luckily, my English friends were nearby and called out to me, gesturing me to come join them. I ran back, grinning.

One member of my cohort was ecstatic, gesturing to his friends which he referred to as “the dogs.” When he walked, he barked, and his section barked back at him. I was next. The lights dazzled. The announcer mispronounced my name although I had carefully provided a phonetic spelling below my real spelling. Ahead of me, though, was Dean Stacy Reeder, who I shook hands and exchanged words with. Beyond her was Dr. Kershen, the woman who I consider to be a great role model and mentor.

One of the aspects of this ceremony I was anxious about is how much bigger it was than the previous single college convocation ceremonies. All semester long, we had been wondering if we could continue to honor old traditions like hugging a faculty member of our department. The moment was brief and blinding as we hugged each other close.

When the moment passed, I jetted off around the edge of the arena, pausing when my friends and family cheered loudly for me. As I returned to my seat, I grinned, “I did it! I graduated college!”

Going to college was always in my path. Even when I was small, there was never a time in my life where it wasn’t what I was going to do. Nonetheless, I am so grateful for this experience. I had no way of fully recognizing how transformative this degree would be. The people I would meet. The convictions I would gain. The self I would step into, as comfortable as a warm bath. I thought existence was itchy and awkward, and sometimes it just is. But with support, gratitude, medication, and an understanding that each day is only a day, I consistently stride for my happier self. Sometimes she’s secretive and elusive. Sometimes she’s right around a corner I was too grumpy to turn. Sometimes I find her and hold her close and promise to never lose her again. She slips out of reach as soon as I fall into sleep.

But now, every day, I know I can find that girl again. I didn’t think she existed when I was 18. I have a profession that fills me up, a greater understanding of my needs and desires, a support system that gives me gas when I run on empty (I recognize my accidental entendre. Not an elegant phrase, but accurate).

I’m not sad to be leaving. I think I already processed the end of college when I started student teaching. I’m just filled with overwhelming gratitude for the people who shared their lives with me. I’ve learned so much. I’m filled with a desire to learn even more. 

What’s next? It’s time to pack up my room with a mind for the things I will need for Peace Corps service in Benin, starting June 2nd, 2024. A bigger adventure yet! I hope you’ll follow along.