Unlike
other institutions, we keep it simple.
The attire is business or business casual, depending on your sartorial
inclinations. We don’t fuss with formal
academic dress, which is a good thing for me because my gown has been gathering
dust in the back of my closet for nearly ten years and, quite frankly, I don’t remember
how to don the master’s hood. I can’t
fully explain why I bother to attend each year, except that it reassures me
that the travails of the year are finally ended. It’s also an opportunity to remind my
colleagues—and the dean—that no matter how unpopular I am I’m not going away of
my own free will.
Although
each year’s commencement is much like the ones before it, there’s always some
small wrinkle to arouse my easily-stirred ire.
A few days ago, an email circulated among the faculty. A colleague proposed that we surprise Dr. Kimpossible
before the formal part of the ceremony by honoring her for gracing the dean’s
office these past few years. The idea
was for each of us to walk on stage and say a single word which described her
before walking off. The message
suggested adjectives such as “funny,” “innovative,” “compassionate,”
“visionary.”
Words
not suggested were the ones circulating in my own mind, words like “flaky,” “superficial,”
“condescending,” and “single-minded.” Reading
the email, I knew there was no way in hell I could go through a charade like
that. Harboring no desire to kiss
Kimpossible’s ample posterior, I choose to arrive just as the surprise tribute
was ending. I take advantage of the prolonged cheering to
unobtrusively seat myself at the back of the faculty section.
Predictably,
Kimpossible is overcome by this demonstration of collective sycophancy. “Thank you, thank you,” she murmurs, tears
trickling slowly down her cheeks, casting nods toward the faculty seats as if
to acknowledge each of her loyal subjects one by one. As she gives the opening remarks, Kimpossible
makes sure to punctuate them with a couple of carefully placed stifled sobs
just in case anyone has failed to notice how deeply moved she is.
Kimpossible
takes a moment to recognize those faculty members who “went above and beyond
for our students and inspired the campus community.” Unsurprisingly, the names are the same as
last year’s and provide Kimpossible with an opportunity to get in a plug for
the Mavens and Intuitions speaker series.
And so, Professor Duckie gets a pat on the back for his presentation “Disney’s
Song of the South: Racism or Just
Good Old Fashioned Bigotry?” while Professor Jan is lauded for her talk “Subversive
Sex Objects: Belly Dancing as Resistance to Patriarchy.” The audience applauds vigorously as
Kimpossible hugs Duckie and Jan, brushing still more tears from her face.
Of
course, Kimpossible would be remiss if she didn’t acknowledge the hard work of
the Macaroni Picture Club in decorating the room for commencement. Please indulge me a digression:
Art
is a particular preoccupation at Snowflake.
We have a well-resourced visual arts program run by professors with
impressive vitae. The annual campus art
show is a major community event, and our students avail themselves liberally of
Snowflake’s art class offerings. I don’t
just mean the art appreciation courses which are an essential part of a
balanced general ed diet. Our learners don’t
want to talk about art; they want to make it and so the various oils,
watercolors, drawing, ceramics, sculpture, and graphic arts classes consistently
run wait lists. The classroom halls are jammed
with people with canvases tucked under their arms. Student works adorn hallways and offices.
We
even tap into students’ artistic proclivities in classes having little to do
with visual art. For instance,
Kimpossible requires the “knowledge explorers” in her Introduction to
Mesoamerican Mythology class to make phallic objects out of clay. I must confess I was a little startled the
first time I saw people carrying handmade renditions of erect penises through
the halls. All in the name of academic
inquiry, I suppose.
Encouraging
self-expression is a good thing, to be sure.
What I find risible is how seriously some of these kids take
themselves. They can’t all be competent,
let alone good. Much like mathematical
or writing abilities, artistic talent varies greatly from person to
person. Nevertheless, I frequently hear
students proudly discussing their “art,” as if calling it that makes it
so. It’s too bad the No Child Left
Behind law doesn’t mandate testing for self-esteem. Today’s public school graduates would score
off the charts.
Meanwhile, the
ceremony drags on. Grads stride
across the stage to collect their diplomas while Kimpossible shares interesting
tidbits and inspiring facts about each: Misty made bead necklaces to send to
starving children in Darfur. Gareth continued
to teach downhill skiing to tourists during the peak of the Christmas holiday despite a sprained ankle. Kelsey courageously
tweeted and updated her Facebook status while she and her family were trapped
in a six-hour traffic jam during the New Year’s Eve blizzard. And so on.
We’re also treated to a preview of their post-graduation plans, things
like backpacking through the Carpathian Mountains, bungee jumping in Greece, and
getting exotic body parts pierced and tattooed.
As
the graduates pass before us, I ponder the changes in the student body during
my teaching career. Kimpossible likes to
point out Snowflake’s countercultural flair, jokingly calling herself the “Queen
of Hippie Hill.” The truth is that
precious few of our kids possess anything resembling the counterculture
ethos. I miss the days when students
would casually drop by during my office hours and talk about stuff such as the
theme of solitude in Hesse’s Steppenwolf or
the viability of a gift economy.
That
time has passed, to my regret and dismay.
Nowadays, you’re more likely to hear the word “hippie” applied to the
kidult hacky sack players and ski bums loitering on the quad than to the genuine free spirits possessing a quick intellect, an accepting character, and a capacity to discern and embrace the world’s
wonders. As with so much in Kimpossible’s
universe, appearances trump substance.
Diplomas
conferred, the ceremony draws to an end.
Last year, the only part of commencement worth sitting through was the sign
language and singing performance from the special needs kids in the adaptive
living program sponsored by the college.
They were so sweet and guileless that their performance was a sure
antidote to the cheesy sentimentality which characterizes virtually every
special occasion at Snowflake College.
No
such luck this time. Instead, we go
straight to the obligatory slideshow projected on the mezzanine wall.
Kimpossible
is the Mistress of Montage. Campus
events at Snowflake invariably end with slideshows of inspirational stock
images culled from the internet, mated with upbeat pop tunes. This time the slideshow is set to Lady Gaga’s
“Born This Way.” Kimpossible had given a
series of talks on LGBT issues, and rather than make up whole a
new montage it appears she recycled the one from the lectures. Still, this is far better than the closing
from a couple of years ago, when, instead of a montage, we were treated to that
YouTube video of the dancing guy around the world.
“Thanks
so much for attending this morning’s ceremony.
Please stay for the reception.
And don’t miss this afternoon’s showing of The Secret by the New Thought Club!
“Have
a blessed day!”
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Best
wishes for a safe and pleasant summer break to all my fellow toilers in the
groves of academe, wherever you may be.
