Graduation Day

by David Howells

  “This is so wonderful! It shows our educational system isn’t hopeless like so many people say it is. Yes, I loved it at Merrihew. I say ‘Merry you at Merrihew!’

  “I don’t remember too much in the classes and things. What do I remember most? Hmmm. Don’t rush me now. Oh! I liked the Garden Club. Biology class was ok, but the Botany AP class was so radical! That’s what I do now, if you read the alumni bio. I’m a florist here in St. Paul and we’re opening up a hydroponics wing to the greenhouse complex. Really! The University loans us students for interns and we all just LOVE each other to death.”

  (Question was asked as to why the subject chose Minnesota instead of a more temperate climate, though it didn’t have direct application to the original theme.)

  “See there? School makes for inquiring minds. Don’t you two lose that, no siree! Well, there’s lots of people doing this sort of thing on the coast, but here I can help people who can’t make it out there to learn about it. This place is my ‘being a pioneer’ project, bringing beautiful blooms and food-growing technology to where it’s more needed. And I LOVE working with the students. They’re so cute! Oh, back to Merrihew. Actually, that’s about all I remember to say about it. Is that enough? I can talk more if you like.”

  10 years: Francis Parquelle

  “My name is Francis. How to you THINK I’ll remember Merrihew? Thanks to my parents, I was a bully magnet until I finally got fed up and fought back. Phys Ed teacher Ken hooked me up with the martial arts and gave me help on getting my own home gym together on a shoestring. Started off with 8 pound weights by using gallon milk jugs. After my second year there, no one picked on me anymore. I picked on THEM. Those guys that made fun of me for two years started hiding from me when I came down the hall. Some of them tried to make friends, looking at me as the new alpha dog…but I didn’t let them.

  “You know something? I didn’t even see it happen that I was becoming just like they were. Most of them grew up at least a little, in part thanks to me turning the tables on them. I didn’t see things clear until my senior year.

  “There was that one guy, Charlie. Turned himself around pretty good as a sophomore, enough where he and I had an undeclared truce. One day after, I don’t know, maybe second period, I was in the hall and spotted one of the guys that gave me hell in Freshman class. I rammed him, almost accidentally, into his locker. Don’t even remember the twit’s name, but he whipped around ready for the fight. Guy saw who it was and deflated like a stuck balloon. That’s when Charlie, who saw the whole thing, called me on the carpet.

  “Had it been any of the others, I might have decked him. But Charlie did good stuff for people and he had honestly apologized to me before. Now it was Charlie who ripped me a new one for the way I treated those guys, and said it was guys like me that made sure that some wars never ended. You know, like Jews and Arabs in the Middle East. Guess we got pretty loud about it because both of us were sent to the Principal’s office. That’s back when Bergman was top dog, and he said the same thing about Jews and Arabs. Thought maybe the two of them rehearsed it, but that wasn’t so.

  “So, what do I remember? I got hurt because of my name. I got back at those that hurt me. Did it too long and too hard and got taken back a notch by two people who were decent Joes, and they did it with just words…no fists.

  “That’s my strongest memory, except for the mystery meat. I mean, who can forget that?”

  10 year overview: impressions

  “Don’t Andy, don’t even think about it.”

  “Like wow, Gail, I mean, what CAN you mean? Life is sooooo full of love and flowers and OW!”

  “I didn’t kick you that hard, you wuss. You want me to do my ‘Boy Named Sue’ impressions?”

  Andy laughed in growing good nature. Hearing the broader perspectives from past graduates was helping him put his own troubles into focus, and that felt very good. “Point taken. Well, Francis at least started off young and innocent, but maybe not. Middle school can get you hammered, too, on a funny name. Maybe he was home schooled before that? I should have asked.”

  “Whoa, Andrew Potts. Let’s not get too complicated here. It’s a commencement speech, not a sociology course. We’re just getting oriented and looking for some ideas. My turn. Francis didn’t bring up any teachers, but a single life change, well, two actually. First was the surmounting his tormentors, and the second was his revelation that the war could be over. Carol enjoyed her school experience, had friends, and felt at least one class was essential to her career.”

  Andy countered, “But she had nothing to say about 98 percent of her other classes. Kind of narrow focused, wasn’t she?”

  Gail counter-countered, “Maybe, but look at her life philosophy in bringing botany to a region that might be poor in assets. Did she come up with that from her nature or the school’s nurture? Darn, there’s another aspect we missed tracking down.”

  She lobbed, he managed the return. “Hey, remember we’ve doubled the year distance from five to ten. Maybe we’re dealing with having lesser-rooted impressions falling away and leaving the main life-change events to bring out. What do you think?”

  “It’s getting late. Good point, by the way. How about we skip ‘15’ and just do one more set with doubled time since graduation?”

  “Actually, I think kind of like doing this with you, but you’re right on the hour. Two more it is.”

  The next two didn’t pan out. One had died in military service. The other was not listed in the alumni membership-page and Alex couldn’t get a hard hit on any people search. Even that was entered in for review later. The next one panned out, and two more tries brought up the last candidate for interview.

  20 years: Penny (Markson) Pettibon

  “Kids, that was a long time ago. It’s funny, though. I remember the names of every teacher since first grade and what they looked like. That’s part of why I became a teacher. It sounded nice to do something that people would remember all their lives. But you wanted just high school? I understand. It’s for your graduation speech. But do you really want to just forget your earlier teachers? Those were important. High school isn’t an isolated experience. It builds on what you were exposed to in your early years all the way back to pre-school. It’s the process where you let go of your parents’ hands and hold new hands, where new voices tell your mind things that helps it take shape.

  “But I’ll try to stick to Merrihew. High School was when I knew everything and felt the sharpest desire for independence. I remember choir and band…I played second flute. Even now, I can sing my alto parts in the classic works the director chose. My children were both brought up with music, too. I remember dating with mixed emotions. Passions were so strong back then, like it was on and off with no volume control. There were school dances where the big strong guys became nervous cowards when it came to approaching a girl, and we were held back by being afraid of being too forward and getting a reputation.

  “I have a clear memory of the hair nets we wore in Home Ec when we were cooking, and I would see the same hair nets worn by the cafeteria workers. My friends and I wondered if that was what school was preparing us for…food service people who most often looked like they weren’t all that happy being there. That wasn’t the case by any means, but I remember thinking that. Little things back then made some big impressions.

  “I liked cheering at the games, and remember riding my bicycle to school on nice days. My bike had book racks in the back. I remember one day I got a flat and had to walk. I knew I’d be late. I was a Sophomore then. I knew a guy named Brad, who stopped his car. Being a Senior he had a limited license, and he got me to school on time. He took my bike and hauled it into his Shop classroom and, during lunch, managed to repair the inner tube. Brad and I married after I graduated, and we’re still together and very happy. I’ve friends who weren’t so fortunate, but that’s the way of things.
>
  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave. It’s time for Brad’s therapy and medicines. He’s…not doing very well. But before you ask, I wouldn’t trade him for anything or anyone. He’s still my hero.”

  20 years: Cameron Strenk

  “You kids are burning the late night oil. I’ll make it brief. I had a decent time in High School. Kids then are like adults now, pretty much. From what I’ve seen, personalities don’t change all that much. Went to the reunion, and the main thing different about people I remembered was less hair, bigger bellies, more health complaints, and there was more talk about parents dying off. That’s a little scary.

  “There were some pretty funny pranks we pulled, though some of them only seemed funny at the time. The ones that hurt someone’s feelings and got you laughing real hard then, now makes you want to wince when it’s brought up and you avoid the subject. Maybe that’s one of the biggest changes you go through in high school. You stop seeing just yourself and start seeing more of other people and what they’re feeling. You learn that the things that scared the bejeezus out of you, and yes I mean girls, shouldn’t have. They wanted to associate with us just as much as we wanted to with them. So, maybe I was wrong. You do grow up some during school and after graduation. Guess we’re all works in progress.

  “High school is when I got my driver’s license. Shame they don’t have Driver’s Ed anymore there. Insurance, I guess. One of my strongest memories was the Senior Prom. I asked Shauna Reeves out, and she accepted. Polished up the Malibu as much as it would allow, and vacuumed every speck of dirt from every crevice, cleaned the windows and even the rear views. Mom helped me pick out a wrist corsage. Found out later she had called Shauna’s mom to get the right color coordination. It was the first time I ever wore a tux. The last time was when I got married. No, not to Shauna, but I still remember her like it was yesterday.

  “It’s late kids. Thanks for memory lane. You two make sure to keep the roadmap of your own lanes in your glove compartment. Might as well. No one keeps gloves in there anyway. Good night.”

  20 year overview: impressions

  Gail kicked it off with, “I liked Penny. She seemed to have one of the broader perspectives of school. I like it that she tied into elementary and grade school as a continuum. It’s nice to think that we’ll remember our teachers decades down the line, too. What did you think?”

  “I’m still feeling my nose sting with that thing about her high school romance, now having her taking care of her husband with a health problem, but his still being her hero. Gail, this was a fantastic idea even if we don’t use any of it for the speech. You know, wouldn’t it be cool to have some of those people presented? I don’t know, maybe there isn’t time, and we need to keep the focus on the graduates. Well, everyone we talked to had their own time to shine. How about Cameron? He had some good retrospective insights (yawn).”

  Gail wondered if this evening would wind up as one of her own 20-year memories…it felt possible. Her not quite perfect grade point seemed less an issue as the night went on. “Yeah. He was the only one that mentioned the prom, but that was just as sweet as Penny’s story. Different, but still high on the warm fuzzy factor. High school sweethearts, whether they’re permanent or not, still hold something for lovers far into the future. I wonder why?”

  “Maybe because it’s new? I remember Christmases as a little kid more than I do as an early teen. Gail, where is all this getting us? I’m getting fuzzy-brained.”

  The hour was indeed getting late. Both teenagers laughed to remember that, for a while longer, they still had to get home because ‘it was a school night’. Discussion was tabled for the evening, but both felt they’d made definite strides in the right direction not only for their project, but for themselves. Gail and Andy were becoming united at least in wanting this graduation to be one for the books…for the yearbooks…and maybe a bit more.

  Momentum

  In the weeks that followed, time was taken up with finals. Still, Andy and Gail kept lunch times as daily brainstorming and action-step-initiating dates, reserving evenings at home for studying. Gail still had to decide what her declared major was (there were three competing main interests), and she was curious as to why Andy hadn’t said anything on future college plans. Maybe he was going to take a year off, like some do, to take a breather. Seemed a little odd for the ‘can do’ man, but he had certainly earned a break.

  The Merrihew Alumni site allowed more feedback through a general mailing and request for nostalgic highlights. There was a growing log of submitted stories that could be funny, heart rending, or just nutty. A couple were all three. The Alumni Association President agreed to have a committee reproduce and collate and staple a representative sample to be added to that year’s yearbooks; sort of a salute to the present from the past. It was also a good move to encourage more of this class to join the association.

  The commencement event started taking on new directions and tangents until the two planners were concerned that they might have created a monster. Each day had a different project, and coordination was going to be a real feat. The Principal wanted to know a bit more on what was going on, sensing that these two kids were possibly breaking with tradition more than she had originally envisioned.

  The Senior class had 271 members. It was sizable, compared to other regional schools who ranged from 80 to 179. Event planners figured on a range of one to four family members in the audience. There had been some inquiries from the Alumni Association regarding attending, for word had gotten around that the past would be part of the presentation, and people were still feeling nostalgic from the recent reunion (most of those having graduated by some multiple of 5 years ago). The event would be in the gym, as there were sufficient bleachers and room on the floor for the expected top-end number, barely. The stage being a bump-out addition added more room to the equation, which would prove to be providential come ‘the day’.

  Three days before graduation ceremonies, Principal Myrtle Winthrop called in the high-achiever pair to her office.

  “You two seem to have been pretty busy and secretive. Do I have anything to be concerned about? What is it you have planned?”

  Gail responded, “Principal Winthrop, for someone like me to agree with someone like Andy here, it has to be good. I think you’re going to be happy with what we have in mind. It’s going to be a surprise. Trust us, we aren’t going to put anyone at risk for injury or anything. Just be ready for anything. It’ll be fun. We promise.”

  Myrtle looked over at Andy, who just pointed at Gail and said, “Yeah, what she said.”

  There were many other things on her plate, so the issue was left to the beneficence of the fates. Undecided between nervousness and excitement, Myrtle opted for both.

  The Day

  The gym was packed. More arrived than was planned, so more seats were pirated from even the science labs. Happily, the bench stools afforded a better view even if it was from the far back. Music department risers on the stage gave better visibility too as the gowned and capped students filed into visibility with grace and solemnity, and a noticeable level of smirking. Backdrops left over from several school plays were evident behind the graduates and helped set the mood. School-color streamers left over from the Prom added even more.

  Expectations of what might happen began to percolate, especially since there were a number of graduates who carried band instruments with them. Others carried mysterious boxes of unknown contents. Organizers of past graduations noted that alphabetical order was not part of the student placement plan. Those who knew more of extracurricular activities might notice that groups of students seemed to form around special interests instead of convenient order for handing out diplomas. What were they up to?

  The audience chairs were arranged in four main groupings, front right and left, back right and left, which allowed the required aisle room for people to exit whether for an i
ndividual or group need.

  There came the opening remarks from the Principal, mostly appreciating the experiences of her first year running the show. Vice Principal Minton went over highlights, mostly achievements in band and choir standings, sports participation results, the school tax referendum and two future construction projects on the table. The Senior Class’s voted Teacher of the Year, Mrs. Canard, accepted the framed document and gave her appreciation. All kept their comments to the skinny side of short for they, too, were dying of curiosity.

  The time had finally arrived. The joint commencement speech (no guest speaker this year, so extra time was allotted to the valedictorian and salutatorian) was announced, and two figures separated from the 270 seniors (one was horribly ill and was not allowed to attend by her parents, despite her desperate efforts to sneak out).

  From opposite ends of the assembled graduates, a young man and a young woman stepped forward and met front stage. The podium with the microphone was set off to stage left. It was ignored. The students both put on a headset with voice mike attached, then turned them on. They removed their gowns and let them fall in front of the stage to the floor. Show time.

  One more student stepped forward, carrying a marching band drum, then turned stage right. At end stage, the young man turned, removed his gown to reveal a marching band uniform, and began a gentle and rhythmic beat on the drum.

  The man at center stage said, “Hello, I’m the class of 2014. Call me Andrew. So glad you could make it. We’re as proud of you as you are of us. Before we step forward into a waiting world of possibilities, let’s look back to where not only we came from, but everyone here came from as well. Let’s take a trip together to the time when you parents here this afternoon made the painful step of letting the child you loved and watched over take steps that would lead them, eventually, to homes of their own. I give you, the first teachers!”