Graduation -or- flip, flip, flip, flip, shake shake, flip flip flip flip

[tdjohnsn]

The seniors graduated on Saturday and I looked like a cross between a used car salesman and one of Tony Soprano’s hit men. I knew I was going to be in trouble since it has been years since I had to dress up, and I have gained just enough weight that none of my slacks fit well, but some how I had blocked out of my mind that I don’t actually have any nice clothes. So, on Saturday morning, I had to scramble to figure out something to wear. My one pair of black slacks almost didn’t button (all the other colors were missing their buttons) and I had forgotten how faded they have gotten. Ron took one look and said, “you better but on a belt to distribute the pressure or that button is going to go….” My white shirt was completely a no go. The collar button did not meet, and the sleeves seem to have shrunk several inches. My black shirt is a little faded, and I like it better with jeans, but that had to do. All my ties are dated, but that was okay…the width was right at least and I like my ties to be a little off beat...or at least I did way back when. All of my jackets were too small. My shoulders are way bigger than they were the last time I bought (or, more accurately, was handed down) a suit jacket. I ended up wearing a jacket that my dad gave me almost 15 years ago. A light, black and grey tweedy looking thing that was incredibly trendy and in style about the same time Cindy Lauper was. And then I get out in the light and realize that the black pants and black shirt have both faded to shades of grey that have different color casts and looked awful together. I looked awful.

When we finally got to the municipal pool in Poulsbo (they have really nice auditorium for anyone who immediately pictured an Ethal Murman style graduation) an hour late after missing our ferry by 5 minutes (fortunately we were trying to be two hours early) I realized that I should have done academic robes. Only one other instructor was speaking and she owns a set; it really makes the whole thing look more official. Of course, she has a master hood and I don’t, but at least I could have skipped the “I’m from New Jersey” outfit I had on and just done a shirt and tie. They still wouldn’t have fit, but at least they would have been hidden.

But, at least I made an effort. Over half of the seniors didn’t. I was afraid to count how many of them were wearing flip-flops…and not special occasion ones either. A couple of the girls padded up to get their diplomas bare foot since they had kicked their shoes off during the speeches and didn’t bother to put them back on. Yeesh.

I wanted to start my comments today with the words that I started each class. But then I realized that I usually started each class by saying “Doug, Sit Down.” Which isn’t very inspirational. So, I’ll have to start with the second thing I said in each class and that was “Who has good design to show us?”

Bringing in something that was well designed each week was my way of getting everyone to actually look at the world around them; to see that some things are well done, and some things are not, and most importantly, that well done things don’t just happen.

Before I met the people who would become the graduates sitting before us, I asked around to find out what I should expect on the first day of class. I was unfailingly told, “Well, they are very Nice…” As a fairly new teacher at the time, this did not set off the alarms that it should have. What I discovered that first day of class was a group of people who were indeed very nice. But with few exceptions, they were also a group of people who expected things to just happen.

Obviously, this had to change if I and the rest of the staff wanted them to be employable by the time they graduated, an event that at the time didn’t seem nearly far enough off. But it did change. Slowly, one by one and in small groups, they began to take responsibility for their lives into their own hands. It is a remarkable transformation that all of us teachers comment on. One day you are teaching sleepy teenagers, and the next you come around the corner, and there are adults who are passionate about what they are doing and what they want out of life. One of the best parts of being a college instructor is watching that change, as one by one, the people in your classes start to understand how much power is in their hands, and that their lives really are up to them. And then they start taking education in their own hands.

That’s when my job gets fun because I get to participate in their exploration of the subjects at hand and the work they produce is surprising and creative and exceeds any expectation I could ever have had when I assigned it. As an instructor you begin to realize they have wonderful futures ahead of them and you look forward to what they will come up with next; what solution, what painting, what design piece.

And then they leave.

I don’t know if they realize how much we will all miss them.

It has been an honor and a privilege to be one of your instructors the last few years. Keep looking for good design. Some things in life are well done. Some things are not. Some things you can change, some you can’t. But your lives are yours to do with what you will and can and you have more power to make things happen in your lives than you can even imagine.

Thank you.

All things considered, and my outfit aside, it was a very nice ceremony and I am really glad I went just to say good bye one last time. (An aside…I thought it was funny the way most of the straight guys gave me a hug, but the two gay guys didn’t…)

The reception back at the school was nice. Too many people, but as uncomfortable as I am in crowds, it was a good thing for the event. There was a ton of dessert things, which caused the main gallery to be packed with people in line for food. Once the food was gone, it completely emptied out. It turned out that Ron and tbass’s boyfriend know each other, so that was kind of fun and I got to give Ron a tour of the campus.

We were invited to a couple of events in the evening, but since we live on the other side, we ended up not going to them. We had a nice lunch in Poulsbo’s old town, then headed home.

Comments

[fuzzygruf.livejournal.com]

Great speech!

[tbass.livejournal.com]

It really was.

[tdjohnsn.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I worked hard on it.

[tbass.livejournal.com]

You looked perfectly fine.

Anyhow, your speech was excellent. You were the only teacher that I had that I really liked, and that taught us well (it was usually one or the other). No matter what mediocre classes we had (semiotics, health, economics) we always could look forward to going to your class and learning something... if it weren't for you (and Susan, the one that ran the store), a good half of the design students probably would have dropped out, including me.

I found out that Frank and Ron knew each other when Franks friend Rich (he knows you two from squaredancing) came over for dinner a few months ago and mentioned it.

If I'd known everyone was going to leave after the food was gone, Frank and I would have stayed, but, as it was, there were far too many random people.

I'll give you that hug at Bear Boot Camp... when Todd isn't standing there expecting one too :)

[tdjohnsn.livejournal.com]

thanks Tony.

I will definately collect that hug next month.

[typographer.livejournal.com]

they have really nice auditorium for anyone who immediately pictured an Ethal Murman style graduation

Okay, first, the water ballet person was Ethel Waters.

Second, Ethel Merman was the big voiced actress who played in a bazillion productions of Annie Get Your Gun, and it's three "e"s and one "a" and absolutely no "u".

But, if you had had an Ethel Waters-style graduation, that I would have paid big bucks to see.

[tdjohnsn.livejournal.com]

Actually, I was just completely confused. I meant Esther Williams.

[typographer.livejournal.com]

But now I have Ethel Merman singing in my head. And it's All Your Fault.

[dr-scott.livejournal.com]

Your speech brought a glimmer of a tear to my eye. Your "Mr. Chips" moment, so to speak. Too bad your partner couldn't dress as Petula Clark and gaze admiringly as you spoke (an obscure reference to the movie version with Peter O'Toole, which is not as good as the 1939 version.)

[tdjohnsn.livejournal.com]

I will have to rent that movie.

and never fear, Ron may -look- like a cowboy, but he is -way- Petula Clark inside. Thought I suspect he was trying to stay awake rather than gazing at me admiringly.