Too Few Such Moments

Graduations are one of life’s milestones, but it is often the parents rather than the participants who show the most emotion at the ceremony. Seeing your child graduate from college is the culmination of a decades-long investment [and four years of blogging] in academics, musical instruments, language lessons, athletics camps and gear, books, and tutors, not to mention the time associated transporting your block’s chip to all those activities. The 22-year-old student doesn’t see his life as an investment; to him it is just….life.

Let's Get This Over With

In the march across the stage their son or daughter will receive that long strived-for piece of parchment, the ticket to riches and independence. Or not. Parents know that illusion will be dispelled soon enough; for the nonce let everyone enjoy the dream.

Last Sunday we attended the graduation ceremony for Revelle College, one of the six undergraduate colleges at the University of California – San Diego. Baking in the summer heat, we waited nearly two hours for our student’s name to be called. We listened to speeches from various UCSD provosts, chancellors, and university officials. One was particularly memorable, although not in a good way.

The class’s favorite teacher---I surmised that her specialty was some mishmash of neuroscience, human behavior, sexuality, and psychology---recounted her favorite classroom discussions. The words “penis” and “vagina” were used as both the subject and the object of fairly explicit action verbs. Her speech proved that one can have too much information, such as how one’s right- or left-handedness had no correlation to the side where one’s genitalia hang lower. Thankfully, she was silent about the physical characteristics of the ambidextrous.

I stole a glance at the graduate’s younger brother, who looked bored. Given what high schoolers text each other about, this apparently was pretty tame stuff. I was grateful that he wasn’t a pre-teen like many in the audience; then I’d have some ‘splainin’ to do.

At last we heard our student’s name. We were sitting so far in the back that we couldn’t see much, so I put the camcorder on maximum zoom and hoped for the best.



After the tassels were turned taciturnly, graduates were dismissed dismissively, and photos were snapped snappishly, we retired to Roy’s Restaurant for a long celebration of his accomplishment. For one evening our joy was unqualified. Life has too few such moments. © 2008 Stephen Yuen