Graduation Daze

By Cheryl L. Dieter copyright May 2001

I still remember it as if it were yesterday. Twenty laughing, giggling, squirming little boys and girls dressed in their finest, smiling ear-to-ear, as their parents slowly filed into the classroom for the big event. Each wore identical blue construction paper mortar board hats with long, blue, adult-sized gowns held up by safety pins, belts, and scarves of a multitude of colors and shapes. Anything and everything was used in a feeble attempt to keep those young feet from tripping over their hems towards disaster. I can still picture the slightly frazzled look on Mrs. Kern’s face, as she clucked at her brood to stay in line, as only a kindergarten teacher can do. While the temperature was beginning to rise outside, inside the classroom looked cool and crisp decorated in the school’s colors, blue and yellow. ABC’s practiced to perfection hung about the room, as did pictures of houses, dogs, and families. Plaster handprints of each child sat proudly at each desk, tied with a bow as neatly as a five-year-old can master such a skill. And in the center of the space, the numbers,2002,written in childish scribble and scrawl, filled the blackboard like a distant horizon. So big and close were those numbers, yet at the same time, so very far away.

With great fanfare the Pledge of Allegiance was recited and relief spilled over the innocent faces of the class. Kindergarten graduation, had at last, begun.

Amanda Abernathy... Benjamin Cook...a look of anticipation shone brightly on my son’s face. Ross Hosman...he beamed as his name was called. He stood still for a second, then marched confidently to the podium, took the microphone in hand, and told the crowd what he wanted to be when he grew up.

"A marine biologist," he responded so swift and sure of himself, "because then I could have a boat and go fishing every day of my life."

Then he quickly collected his construction paper diploma in one hand and grabbed my hand with the other as he jumped off the stage full of dreams for the future and with nothing to fear.

And now, twelve years later, here I sit on a hard steel gymnasium bleacher with hundreds of other parents waiting for graduation 2002 to begin. Some parents laugh, others pull hankies out of their pockets, and some wear an amazed look of relief that their child made it through high school at all. Yet, in all of us, I can see that silent lingering question that begs the answer as to where has the time gone, have we taught our children well, and will they be able to handle what life brings to their door?

Finally, the school principal calls Ross’ name and once again he strides confidently to the podium, just as he did so long ago. This time, as he collects his diploma, he is still full of dreams but has developed the maturity to have already let some go. No, he won’t be fishing anytime soon for there is work to do and bills to pay. The plaster handprints have long ago given way to greasy fingerprints on the door jambs, the result of a blown engine on the old Chevy. There is also no time left for a game of Duck...Duck...Goose! and the other simple pleasures of life. And yet, perhaps the biggest difference between that graduation of so long ago and today’s ceremony, is that this time, as he jumps off the stage into life, although he is a little scared, Ross no longer reaches for my hand.