It's graduation time! Exams are a thing of the (recent) past, families are coming into town, and the very smart sophomores and juniors are moving off-campus before the Commencement Craziness comes into being. My alma mater is preparing to send off its most recent batch of professional hopefuls into the world, among them several of my friends.
It should be exciting: planning out the perfect outfit to wear, which no one will see because it's hidden under your gown; figuring out how to do your hair so that it doesn't puff out perpendicular to your head when you put your cap on; making reservations at a nice restaurant so your family can celebrate with you. You're joining the proud ranks of people who have busted their asses to prove that they can, in fact, make it at anything they so choose. If anything should thrill you, it should be that.
Except, apparently, it doesn't.
I was talking to one of my friends graduating this weekend, and she complained that the commencement ceremony would last "ninety whole minutes. Why does it have to be so long?" My answer was, "Stop complaining, this is a good day for you." My friend's response: "Yeah yeah."
But really. Come on. Aside from the very practical reason that there are about four hundred people that need to walk across the stage and shake hands with the president of the university, you earned this! It's the one moment in the last four years that the faculty come together and says, "Yes, I know you put forth the effort. Yes, I know that wasn't easy. And yes, you did well." We can't even chalk my friend's response up to a 'Cs get degrees' mentality, because this particular friend is graduating Summa Cum Laude and has been accepted to a really good Master's program at a school out east. That's more impressive than it sounds: I graduated Magna Cum Laude and didn't get into a single graduate program that I applied to, let alone to a school that excels in the field that I want to go into.
So what's the deal? Why is it an obligation to accept what you've earned? I should add, this conversation came after this same friend spent six hours trying to change the formatting of something on the computer. So, six hours on something like that is okay, but an hour and a half of other people recognizing your work is a pain in the butt?
There seems to be a lack of appreciation for ceremony nowadays. Even in the professional fields, the tendency is toward informality: bosses try to be buddies with their employees, dress codes are changing to be more informal, even events that used to be elegant, like the prom or weddings, are coming to be just parties with expensive dresses. I know exactly where it comes from, and I'm not going to complain about it. It comes from the idea that no one is any better than anyone else, and so we should all act the same all the time. Personally, I think this is a load of baloney, and it's what academics call negative equalization, but that seems to be what makes people happy. So go for it.
But what I think we should remember is this: ceremony helps us to remember what's important. We don't have huge ceremonies for passing your first exam. We don't have ceremonies to celebrate a first date. We don't have ceremonies to recognize that someone did the dishes or folded the laundry or got out of bed and acted like a person that day. And we shouldn't, because those are everyday things. We have ceremonies for passing all of your exams. We have ceremonies for people who turned their first date into a lifelong commitment. We have ceremonies for when people show exceptional humanity. We celebrate things like this because we should. These are the things that help us, as human beings, make it through. These are the things that separate us from the beasts. These are the things that keep us together, that keep society moving forward, and that keep people alive. This is why we have ceremony: because it's important.
So as you're sitting in your own graduation ceremony, or that of your child, or that of your sibling or friend or significant other, keep this in mind when your butt is sore (which, if it is after ninety minutes, you're an exceptional person) and you can't wait to take off your tie and change into sweatpants: there's a reason that this is such a big deal.
