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Sept.
2004
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Graduates
should thrive
with consistent team of cheerleaders |
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James
Pankratz
Special to Parenting |
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Four years ago I wrote a column about our son’s
eighth grade graduation. That was the warm-up. This June
was the real deal (except for the cap and gown. The label
read: Do not wash or dry clean. It was strictly disposable).
High school graduation day began with an element of suspense. It was not about
whether our son would graduate; his grades made that a sure thing. The suspense
came from something more trivial: would the game be over in time?
Graduation was scheduled for 6 p.m. downtown. A tournament baseball game was
scheduled for 3 p.m. Our son played second base (why a tournament game would
be scheduled the same day as graduation is another story). My wife and I prayed
for rain, but it was not to be.
At 5:05 p.m., our son arrived home, leapt out of his baseball uniform into his
good clothes and cap and gown and jumped back into the car, which miraculously
deposited him in front of the arena at 5:15. Twenty minutes later, the rest of
us found our seats, high above the rows and rows of chairs in front of the main
stage.
I aimed my bulky, antique, 1989-vintage video camcorder at the podium on the
main stage. I zoomed in for a close-up of the principal, who was organizing his
papers. Everything went fuzzy. Not enough available light, or so I thought. I
taped a father holding a sleek palmcorder two aisles ahead, fantasizing that
I could tape the entire ceremony through his bright, crisp viewfinder. My fantasy
was suddenly interrupted with the first, clear notes of “Pomp and Circumstance.”
I taped a long shot of our son marching in, and then zoomed in for a blur of
blue and gold with legs. Three hundred students, approximately 20 faculty members,
and a dozen refrains of “Pomp and Circumstance” later, we sat down.
You know what happened next: the National Anthem, opening comments by the class
president, more opening comments by the principal, then the 15 valedictorians
were introduced. They were rewarded with seats on the center stage. I’m
proud to say our son was among them. I have a fuzzy close-up to prove it.
More filler followed: the presentation of the class gift, presentation of scholarships,
messages to the graduates, and “Variations on a Korean Folk Song.” Finally,
the main event as the students filed onto the main stage to get their tickets
to adulthood. All of them seemed thrilled to get the chance. As each name was
read, there were waves of cheers, applause, and blasts of ear-piercing screams
from the teen-age girls in the row in front of us. Each student had his or her
own cheering section of varying intensity.
One hour later, which I understand is mercifully short, all were poised to receive
the final send-off from the principal.
He charged them to aim for the stars and to focus on service to others, particularly
the needy. Then he declared them official graduates of the class of 2004. The
300 chairs erupted into a cheering sea of blue gowns and tossed caps with gold
tassels. I think the orchestra played a recessional, but no one was really recessing.
They surged. Is there a musical composition called a surgessional?
The lobby of the arena was electric with smiles, laughter, hugs, shouts, photos
and balloons. My wife snapped a roll of photos capturing various groupings of
my son and friends. I even took some non-fuzzy videos. I now realized that the
problem was not lack of available light, but a rebellious zoom lens. The night
ended on a magic moment when a mounted police officer rode back and forth in
front of the arena to control a crowd, that did not need it.
Afterwards our family went for pizza at our favorite Italian restaurant. While
we were waiting to be served, the principal came in to pick up his own carry
out pizza. Our son sat at the table, sipping a lemonade, and trying to wind down
from the excitement of the day. He paused and said for the first time that suddenly
going off to college felt a little scary. He said he knew he would probably never
see many of his classmates again since their lives would now branch out in various
directions. He wondered about the challenges ahead.
His comment made me realize the reason for the screams, the hugs, the flashing
lights, the gold cords, the awards, the scholarships and the waves of cheers.
At one point in the ceremony, faculty members made gentle, comic predictions
of the destiny of some of the senior class. We know predictions do not come true
in the way we imagine. The future holds twists and turns that will challenge
and test the graduates in ways that no grade point average can measure.
And we know that those fortunate enough to have had a consistent team of cheerleaders
of family and friends will be able to find within themselves the resilience to
keep going, maybe even to thrive.
(Pankratz is a marriage and family therapist at Catholic Charities Milwaukee
Regional Office.) |
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