Commencement

Come on in. The water is ours.

I’ve lost track of the number of commencements I’ve attended - my own, Mike’s, Ben’s, Matt’s, other family members’ and friends’. I’ve attended commencements to hood my PhD students, to represent my department on stage, and even to serve as the marshal, a very important job that ensures that graduating seniors who just aced an organic chemistry final exam can make it from their seat to the stage.

Commencements get a bad rap. They are often long and the majority of the ceremony simply doesn’t apply to you. Like the parent whose kid runs the 50-yard dash at a four-hour track meet, your graduate is across the stage before you know it. This is why I like to have a job at commencement - leading the next row of graduates to the stage, giving hugs, and taking pictures while having the honor of watching so many moments of transition.

Although commencement means beginning, the focus is also on celebrating an ending, the completion of an educational journey. “You did it!” excited relatives exclaim. It’s worth pausing for a moment to consider what “it” is. Yes, you’ve earned a degree by attending classes and (hopefully) learning a few things. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. As David Foster Wallace notes in his classic commencement address, you’ve also become exposed to other points of view, which has perhaps made you more humble about your own claims to truth. Along the way, you’ve likely learned something about yourself and also had the chance to be a part of something bigger than yourself.

I often ask my students at graduation to think about themselves at the beginning of their educational journey. That past self may seem far away, almost like another person. At my own undergraduate graduation from Culver-Stockton College, I had learned FASB standards and differential equations. I had also learned how to balance fun and hard work, how to stand beside a friend who was dealing with a hard truth, and how to live in community. I don’t remember much about FASB standards or diff-eq. The other lessons are the ones that have stuck with me. One key purpose of rituals like graduation is to provide a moment to appreciate how far you’ve come.

Yesterday, I found myself at another commencement - the Drake University undergraduate commencement. My only job was to cheer for Matt as he earned a degree in computer science and data analytics. That left me with a lot of time to think. When had Matt - the toddler who walked the concourse with my dad during my PhD graduation, the kid who knew he wanted to be a computer science major since he first saw a DOS prompt, the kid who wore the shirt that said “When I grow up, I want to be epic!” - become a college graduate?

In fact, I can tell you precisely. At 11:49 am on May 17, Drake’s class of 2025 moved their tassels from the right side of their mortarboard to the left. They had become alums. They were beginning a new chapter. As Dr. Seuss said,

You’re off to great places

Today is the day

Your mountain is waiting

So. . .get on your way.

But we all know that’s not how it happens. You rarely “become” in an instant. You are always becoming. Some of you have the next mountain in your sights, but as Drake’s student commencement speaker noted, others have no idea what’s next. You may not know who you are becoming until the next transition, the next time you look back and reflect on who you have become. Mountains are almost never climbed via a straight path. Give yourself some room to explore.

But, if I can once again return to David Foster Wallace, may I ask that you also look around and be aware of what’s going on around you as you begin your next chapter? In his commencement speech, Wallace told the story of two young fish who were swimming around one day when an older fish swam by. “How’s the water?” he asked. They looked at each other and said, “What’s water?”

It’s easy to become complacent and let our surroundings fade into the background as we find our own paths. Don’t do it. Keep reminding yourself, “This is water.” Question systems, especially those that may put others at a disadvantage. Think about how your actions may impact others. Even though you may no longer be sharing a bathroom with others, we are all still interconnected. As we are each becoming, we are all becoming together. Honestly, the water is a little rocky these days, but it is ours to tend. Keep your head up. We need each other.