First of the Season

Frankly, it's the most horrifying thing I've ever seen, and yes, I'm aware it's only a circle of construction paper. But it's taped over the clock. "Time to Learn" the markered slogan taunts the students--not my students, clearly--and when I visit that classroom I find myself checking my wrist almost without thinking for the comfort of my watch. I just need to know; I don't operate in a timeless vacuum, don't understand that strategy. I can identify the one mechanism man has perfected for making time come to a full and complete stop, however: in my experience it's called a graduation ceremony.

When my seniors ask me to describe what awaits them, I say,"Oh, it lasts forever. You won't believe the talking." I'm not even playing. I'd confirm that we hold the world record for length of ceremony in the category two hundred students and fewer, but even the thought of it bores me. A minute and a half of pride and pleasure; two hours of near coma. I'd say that I'm a terrible role model, but given that I have an advanced degree, I must be expert at feigning interest.

Tonight parental duty required attending the first graduation of the season, though DARE strikes me as an odd thing to graduate from. But perhaps I'm just a malcontent. Next thing you know I'll be pointing out that the officer who taught what's billed as a decision-making model used a logical fallacy as his big keynote example, but hey, the kids seem to like it, and I suppose it won't hurt, even if the statistics say otherwise. Besides, you've gotta love fifth graders. I don't know if this is what the officer had in mind when he hauled them through the detention home, but here's to one girl's version of being scared straight: 1. the clothes are ugly. 2. the food is bad. 3. it's boring. They will make of it what they will.

So, yes, I was paying attention, in a look who's grown, look who hasn't, wow, he's changed kind of way since I rarely see many of those kids. Two hundred or so fifth graders walked across the high school stage tonight, probably a little less than half of their future graduating class. Seven years hence their commencement ceremony will be over at the university, since even the gym won't accommodate all the graduates and family and friends. I can't even fathom what we'll witness in the intervening years, middle school and high school, though we all know most of those boys and girls will make at least some of the choices they've just sworn they never will. As if life is decided with a classroom workbook. As if a police officer is a parent. As if any of it is as black and white as those t-shirts that they all wore. In the end, I think we'll do the right thing. The girl strikes me as that kind of person. But still when we look back in the near imaginary year 2015 I'm sure this will seem like a much simpler time.