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Words by: Dave Johnson

Image by: Crystal Bretschger Johansson

My graduation ceremony in May of 2001 was not something I was looking forward to. As I’m not one for pomp and circumstance at the best of times I didn’t exactly have the date marked on my calendar. The time that University and I spent together had already included a few hours spent in a dress prior to the big day so I didn’t see the need for more.

Our relationship had really ended the day I handed in my last exam paper, praying there was some ‘D’ magic left to be had. After that, we were just going through the motions. However, since my parents had a hand in paying for the whole degree experience they rightfully had some say in whether or not I attended the graduation ceremony.

I attended.

I don’t remember much about the actual ceremony. I was there. I must have been. I have the parchment. Or, referring back to the beginning of this column, my parents have it. It resides with them as part of the embryo of what will become my archives, no doubt to become a resource for scholars for years to come.

One of the few things I do remember about the ceremony is that the guest speaker said it was likely that we would not remember him. And he or she was right. This mystery person then went on to say, “But this you should remember….” Which of course, I don’t. I reason that if it were such life-altering advice, I would have remembered it. Never one to do things the easy way I seem to learn the bulk of life’s important lessons the hard way with no shortage of people around after the fact to offer an “I told you so.”

I never really connected with most of my university classmates over the months and semesters we coexisted. I didn’t share the bond that most of the class shared partly because I had taken the first few years of my degree at another university. That didn’t bother me but I thought it odd on graduation day to hear myself reflecting, with virtual strangers, on all those good times we shared and wishing each other the best of luck in all future endeavours. I couldn’t believe it was time to say goodbye – mostly because I didn’t remember saying hello.

This was University’s last lesson in preparing me for the real world. Of course, the only way University teaches you anything useful in the real world is indirectly. And here was that wise old University sneaking in one last lesson. For there were many times over the next few years, mostly in cubicles and break rooms, where I was required to converse with semi-strangers (co-workers ostensibly) as part of my day.

I fell back on what I had learned in University and brought forth the clichés that most of us resort to in times of slight awkwardness, when the ability to just be ourselves escapes us. This typical scene, of which I’ve been both participant and spectator, repeats itself many times over in offices and factories across the country:

Worker #1: “How was your long weekend?”

Worker #2: “Great! Not long enough though.”

Worker #1: “No, never is.”

(Take sip of coffee)

The days surrounding my graduation were enjoyable however. It’s a pretty easy gig to be patted on the back and given small monetary gifts. My immediate family, relatives, a few friends and I went out to dinner on the evening of the big day. I sat at the head of the table and I recall pretending I was a mob boss who had called in the other heads of the Family for a sit down.

Hopefully, there are many chapter endings in life. Each one implies that a new chapter - a new beginning - lies ahead. A graduation ceremony is certainly one of these endings. Some we remember more fondly than others, and place more significance on them. For me, graduation was a page or two of my life that I skimmed over, anxious to get on with the rest of the story.

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