As I wrap up finals anticlimactically on my couch, it occurs to me that the last piece of college left is graduation. In just a few days, I will be up before the crack of dawn to don a cap and gown and stride the length of the Lawn. This sounds simple enough, but you must understand I have never actually seen a normal University graduation. As a member of the class of 2023, two of the three graduations during my time were altered for COVID-19 related reasons. I attended the 2021 graduation, but because of limited ticketing, I had to watch the livestream and listen on the slope across from Scott Stadium. Hated when the audio didn’t match up.
Despite reading the pages on the Finals Weekend website several times and scrolling through a slew of graduation pictures on Instagram — which I unironically will be adding to soon as well — I don’t have a very clear idea of what to expect. Somehow enough chairs will seat thousands of people, squishing grass that has been so tenderly regrown since Lighting of the Lawn. At first glance, it does not look like there is enough green space to support so many guests. The maximum capacity during the Lawn picnic season is like 150 students carefully spread out. Perhaps those that have traversed the length of the Lawn would have a better understanding of how much space there really is. With guests seated, at least another thousand people will process down the center toward our Homer Statue — clothed, don’t worry — and settle in for guest speaker wisdom. At the end, Wahoowa, toss the caps and we’re good to go!
In my mind, here is the order of events —
- I better not forget my cap and gown
- Part ways with my guests just after dawn so they can find seats
- Get to the North side of the Rotunda, i.e. the less cool side
- If I have a graduation balloon, battle with other balloons for air space
- Possibly call plane traffic control because there are so many balloons
- Weather permitting, walk with a hoard of graduates down the Lawn at 9 a.m.
- Hope that I can see my guests. Note, I am short, even with heels
- God forbid I slip down one of the ramps in said heels
- Sit down in front of Old Cabell Hall
- Hope that the next hour of speeches will not sound like every other graduation I have been to
- Stay awake stay awake stay awake
- Clap for University President Jim Ryan
- In the event of a hellacious storm, imagine almost everything above but we have retreated to John Paul Jones Arena
The whirlwind of the following celebrations will be both overwhelming and short-lived. Waking up Sunday morning I imagine thinking, “Gosh did that all really happen?” After four years of learning, work and growth I would like to have spent a little extra time commemorating the achievement!
This makes me wonder what else could happen at graduation. People could walk one at a time, busting a move like those graduating from normie colleges and walking across a stage. Wouldn’t you like a five-hour graduation, watching graduates moonwalk or queen wave down the Lawn? Maybe the aforementioned balloons could be used as transportation vessels to our seats. Graduates would thus have the option to walk down or fly across the Lawn. Or it could be like a wedding — those of us without balloons are walking down an aisle — and then someone jumps out to shout, “I object!” The graduates must then prove themselves by naming every secret society at the University, presenting their #1 Bodo’s ticket and singing the Good Ol’ Song all by themselves. Having set these conditions, I now realize that I probably would not graduate under any of these imaginary circumstances, so maybe officially walking the Lawn one last time will be enough.
Congratulations to fellow fourth-years and graduate students, we did it!