Graduation

Graduation is only a concept. In real life every day you graduate. Graduation is a process that goes on until the last day of your life. If you can grasp that, you'll make a difference. ~Arie Pencovici

My nephew, Adam, is graduating from high school this month. Additionally, a large number of my own children's friends will also be switching their tassels from one side to the other. This is the first year that high school graduation is truly personal. Children I've known all their lives are taking the first big step into adulthood. Yes, we all attended Kindergarten graduation, middle school graduation and numerous movings on from Little League, from Cub Scouts and from Guppy level swim lessons. We have been present at Confirmations, First Holy Communions and Bar Mitvahs. The fact is, our children's lives have been filled with one ceremonial ending after another, and they've received dozens of certificates to prove they were the most improved Soccer Player at camp 5 years ago. To some children, high school graduation feels like just one more occasion to have one's name read, and most likely, mispronounced, at the end of a series of such events.

And yet, the high school graduation, in my own heart, loomed larger than even my college graduation. Why? Because it wasn't yet another award to stick on the shelves, or stiff piece of parchment to get stuffed into a rummage drawer. It was the first, after many, graduation that really signified something beyond my lanyard making ability. For the first time, I felt incredibly grown up, and yet, reflected on how much growing up I had left to do. For four years in high school, I couldn't wait to graduate. I did enjoy high school, but the world ahead loomed so enticing and so much more 'real' than school. High school, for so many young people, both in my day, and currently, seems like a time to prepare for the next step. All throughout high school students are just marking time...in their classes (until they get to lunch and chat with their friends), in sports (until they make the varsity squad) and in life (until the 'real thing' begins). Students prepared for college, for travel or for the life beyond high school. High school itself felt as if we were in one big conveyor belt, in a giant machine, adding bits and pieces, tweaking parts of us here and there, until we were deposited at the end, with a diploma, plans for an amazing summer, and vague ideas about the Autumn ahead. High school seemed like the marinating time. Graduation felt as if we were popped out of our containers, properly seasoned, and ready to head off to the grill.

Ironically, with all the excitement and busy-ness leading up to baccalaureate, prom and graduation, I remember feeling a desire to just get the whole thing over with. I was ready to move on, take charge and step forward towards a vast new frontier. And still, as I sat with my classmates, I distinctly remember a moment of panic coming over me. Suddenly the reality of the marinade was sinking in, and I realized that this was not an ordinary day. From that moment forward, I would be considered a high school graduate, and truly, a young woman on my way to the rest of my life. Despite my angst of wanting to "grow up and get out", moving on from my days of childhood, I was immediately hit with a sense of melancholy as it dawned on me that I had absolutely no idea how to "be" the young adult that diploma, awaiting me at the podium, signified. As teenagers, we push and we hurry and we wrestle with the concept of being independent decision makers. But, at the end of the day, we may be able to speak passable French, have a fine understanding of Shakespeare and be able to discuss the mechanics, in Physics terms, of the solar system's orbit path. Yet, we haven't the vaguest idea of how to rent an apartment, cook a reasonable meal, pay our bills or have basic knowledge of a benefits plan. In short, we were marinated to perfection for a very small piece of the world we would eventully inhabit.

When I came across the Arie Pencovici quotation, regarding each and every day as a graduation, my eyes filled up with tears. Finally, I thought, a sentiment that I could relate to! I had long felt that, the older I grew, the more I wanted to know. And, the more knowledge I aquired, the more my curiousity was peaked. My mother has always used the expression of lifelong learning. When I was young, I wanted to roll my eyes and moan that, surely, it must end sometime! Now, happily in my 40's, I view every single day not only as a gift, but as an opportunity to learn something new...to discover a subject I'd never tackled before, to open my mind to new concepts and to learn to be more tolerant and considerate of other people's opinions. I have come to see that every moment presents an opportunity for learning...and that learning may involve Shakespeare, or it may involve learning to listen, with an open heart, to a idea I'd never considered. It may involve reading a book in a genre that I don't normally choose, or allowing my teenagers freedom to make their suggestions heard and appreciated. One of the most wonderful aspects about graduating every day, is to find out even more about the world we live in. As teenagers, our view of the world is very narrow. We believe we know it all...and as adults, we come to find out how very little our vision allows in. The choice we can choose to make, as adults with fully formed cerebral cortexes, is how wide to expand our vision...or how narrow to allow it to remain.

As you attend Graduation ceremonies in the coming weeks, I urge you not to give too much advice to the young people in your lives. They'll be inundated with it. Every uncle, every teacher and every neighhbor is going to tell them "If I knew then, what I know now...". The most wonderful graduation message I received was from my unofficial godmother, Patricia. She invited me down the hill for tea, hugged me very tightly, presented me with a beautiful Bible, and said simply, "I'm always here if you need to talk." She didn't lecture me on the best way to tackle college in the fall. She didn't remind me of all the bits of advice she'd given me over the years. In a short time, the pearls of wisdom that flew over my head during my graduation month faded. I could barely remember what I wore to my prom, let alone what advice I'd received. But, I did remember Pat's invitation....and for the past 26 years I've taken her up on it more times than I can count. Because of this graduation blessing, I felt a huge weight lift of my shoulders...because I knew I didn't have to grow up all at once.

If your heart so leads, and a graduate is precious to you, let her have an open door, a big hug and a mug of tea...knowing that she's not expected to run the world quite yet.