Culture

Watching both ceremonies simultaneously was a cacophony of sights and sounds. What struck me most was how much graduations have changed.

Michael
Reardon

Three minutes. That was the time separating two of my children crossing graduation stages -- the only complication being that those three minutes were separated by 730 miles.
For families with children at different schools, this is not an uncommon experience. Sitting in the stands at Xavier University with an earbud in one ear and my phone in hand, trying to watch and listen to two ceremonies at once was far from ideal, but it beat missing my son's graduation from Boston College High School.
Watching both ceremonies simultaneously was a cacophony of sights and sounds. What struck me most was how much graduations have changed. There was a time when graduates looked largely the same: at a college commencement, a simple academic robe and hood denoting a degree; at BC High, the traditional white dinner jacket, black pants, and maroon bow tie.
That is no longer the case.
Today, cords, medals, and sashes adorn many graduates, highlighting leadership roles, academic honors, athletic achievements, and various activities. Sitting there, my brother leaned over and asked, "When did all these cords and medals become a thing?" Without much hesitation, I replied, "Probably when the diploma people realized they could sell more stuff."

To be clear, these accomplishments are worthy of recognition. Some students maximized every opportunity available to them. Others possess natural gifts that propelled them toward leadership, athletics, or academic distinction. Regardless of trappings, each student approached the stage as a student and left it as a graduate.
This time of year, we should celebrate all graduates.
Perhaps the student crossing the stage without a cord or medal worked twice as hard just to stay afloat academically. Perhaps school did not come naturally to them, but they persevered anyway. That accomplishment deserves every bit as much, and maybe even more, celebration as the student for whom organization, test-taking, or leadership came easily. Neither student earned their natural abilities, and both possess gifts worthy of recognition.
This time of year, I often think about a student I once knew who drove himself to graduation and headed straight to work afterward. He was not heavily involved in school activities because his family and financial circumstances did not allow it. He crossed the stage between classmates draped in the trappings of achievement while quietly wondering if the ceremony would end on time so he would not be late for his shift.
We should absolutely celebrate students who thrived in high school or college, but we should also look beyond the regalia and see the person.
Every student has a story.
The heavily decorated graduate who appears unstoppable may be carrying enormous anxiety and pressure. The student who seemed disengaged may simply be relieved to have reached the finish line and excited for what comes next.
Whatever their path, graduation should be a moment of celebration, but also a moment of caution. Young people should not believe that success or struggle in school determines the course of the rest of their lives. Every day is an opportunity to define who they are and who they are called to become.
The best is still ahead for these graduates. They cannot become overly consumed by either the successes or disappointments of the past.
As the saying goes, do you know what they call the person who graduates last from West Point?
Lieutenant.

- Michael B. Reardon is executive director of the Catholic Schools Foundation, www.CSFBoston.org.

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