My sister graduated college last fall. She did so in such a remarkable fashion that she was asked to be a speaker at commencement. It was a great speech, an important speech. She spoke of leaps of faith, of finding your calling as many times as necessary, of the wonderful buffeting of stepping away from the comfortable.
It was the kind of speech that makes commencements relevant.
This year, graduates won’t wear a cap and gown. They won’t cross the stage, or be cheered while doing so. They won’t get to hear speeches like the one my sister delivered. They’ll move quietly from one stage of life to the next.
Both our sons are putting bows on college. Tying up their university experiences with a masked and sanitized ribbon.
Our younger son was a very good high school student with one college in mind: The University of Minnesota’s Carlson School of Management. Anytime She or I would try to convince him to apply to more than one school he’d refuse, much to my emphatic chagrin. Once that kid gets an idea in his head…
Then the acceptance letters started rolling in for his friends, but none for him. His anxiety showed. I was beginning a campaign to get him to apply to other schools. I was trying to thread a needle, between being insistent and casual. I was not super effective. But I do think he was starting to consider the notion.
Then the letter arrived for him. He was at school when it was delivered. I held the letter up to the light and was able to see the word “Congratulations”. I was so excited I couldn’t contain myself. He’d been so concerned.
I drove to the High School. I asked the ladies at the front desk where I could find him. They asked for my ID and why I was there. I told them he’d gotten a letter from his chosen school and I wanted him to see it. They buzzed me in, excited by my excitement. He was in the cafeteria getting lunch.
He was in line. When he saw me he looked startled and concerned. I handed him the letter. He looked at it for a moment, until the realization of what it could be hit him. He looked at me a little nervously and opened it. We laughed and hugged, his friends and classmates offering congratulations.
He slipped into college life easily. He made many, many friends, and has many stories to tell. He completed a challenging program admirably and will walk away from college a skilled and knowledgeable young man. We are very proud.
He’s walking away from this stage of his life quietly and without ceremony.
I would like to remind him that as he left high school he and I had several long conversations about how much he’d loved it, and how nervous he was that such experiences were behind him. He seemed lonely, and afraid the next stage would be gray and sad in comparison. But it wasn’t, the next stage was bigger, and more fulfilling. It was simultaneously harder and more fun. What comes next is not the drudgery of adulthood. It’s the excitement of hope, and the currently unknown. It’s the promise and challenge of building a life on your own terms, and being with people doing the same.
In fact, what’s come before will seem small compared to what he’s about to do. I’m very excited for him.
He’ll discover that he’ll take leaps of faith, find his calling as many times as necessary, and experience the wonderful buffeting of stepping away from the comfortable.
Congratulations buddy. Love you.
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