Post-Grad Existence

The day has come and gone. Graduation night, May 2008. I now understand why Robert said that the post-graduation entry was the toughest to write. The myriad feelings, emotions, and excitements can hardly be described. We’re now an entire weekend removed from the event, and it’s still difficult to describe.

The day started with an arrival at North Georgia College & State University, for the last time as an undergraduate. I met up with Lauren and Colin, two people with whom I was to graduate, and of course, Michele and Angela. For those of you not in the know, or not on Facebook, Angela and I are married.

We stood outside in cap and gown regalia, the full gravity of the situation slowly settling in. In two hours time, we would be done. Finished with our undergraduate studies… forever. Until you actually graduate college, you won’t understand how big that is. Like Robert said, you’re expected to graduate form High School. In fact, not graduating from High School is the academic equivalent of Epic Fail. But college is different. Graduating college proves that you wanted it. You earned it. You fought for years to achieve it.

And so we stood. We talked. We laughed. We took pictures (in the picture above, that's me, far right). As the clock wound down to 6:15pm, we began the walk to our designated line-up area. Colin and I were able to sit beside each other, but Lauren was unfortunately on the other side of the aisle from us. As we marched in, the excitement grew more and more palpable. Colin and I kept saying, “This is it. We’re graduating!”

We marched into the gym, Pomp & Circumstance all around. Taking our seats, the ceremony began. I watched as faculty members sat poised in regal robes. The best were Dr. Jespersen’s: a red-and-black number that was more Dark Lord of Sith than college professor.

Then came the moment. First the Military students were confirmed as graduates. Then, the Honors students. Finally, the riff-raff like myself were asked to stand. President Potter looked out over the crowd and confirmed us all as graduates of the University, with full rights and privileges as Alum. Like Robert once said, that moment hits you like a sack of bricks. We were done. All that was left was to actually walk up and receive our diplomas.

As my name was called and I shook hands with President Potter and then walked across the stage to shake hands with Dr. Bennett, my advisor, I was so shot-through with adrenaline that I forgot to turn my tassle. In fact, I didn’t even turn it until I was already off the stage. I told you, this moment was big. You tend to forget things in all the excitement.

After all the names were called, and the last student had crossed the stage, the procession out of the gym began. Freedom. We walked out, shaking hands with various professors, hugging our friends, knowing that things would never quite be the same again. And oh, the pictures that were taken!

I haven’t been photographed so much in all my life. Robert and Colin and I posed for what is possibly the most distinguished picture of me ever. I’ve got pictures with my Mom and Dad, both sets of grandparents, with Robert, Colin, Lauren, Michele, Cindy, Laura, and possibly a few people I’ve never met. That’s how it goes, I guess. Then, everyone began departing. That moment, to me, was the most bittersweet time of the night. We would never be together like that again.

So with the ceremony over and the crowd thinning out, Robert and I decided that it was time to eat. So, off to Caruso’s we went. Sadly, there was terrible karaoke happening in the next room, so our meal was not entirely enjoyable. After eating, and me saying “I’m done!” every fifteen minutes or so, we went back and walked around the drill field and the campus. I know it sounds cliché, but the place actually looked a little different.

Well, the ceremony ended at 8:15 Friday night. After spending time with many different friends, I finally arrived home at 4:15 Saturday morning, exhausted. The weekend was sort of a blur. I saw everyone again Saturday night, sans Robert and Angela, at a cookout at Lauren’s house. We sat and talked. We reminisced about old times. The rift of rock awesomeness was brought up a couple of times. We played ping-pong and darts. We laughed some more. We were celebrating the end of an era.

I can’t even describe how odd it is to sit here and say, “I don’t have to go back to class in August.” In fact, class probably won’t start again for me for about a year of so. I’m signed up to take the GRE with Robert in September. I also, at some point, have to take the GACE I and GACE II tests. Then, we apply for the Master of Arts in Teaching program, right back at North Georgia. It’s amazing, in a way. A month ago I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do with my life. I had ideas, of course, but as for a plan… well, nothing had really materialized. Then, something snapped and I said, “I want to teach college.” So, I’m on the road to a Masters degree and eventually a Doctorate. This, then, is the plan of the world’s greatest academic procrastinator.