We celebrated with Albert who went back to school to get his High School diploma and wants to become a physical rehab assistant. Ruth also earned her diploma and is planning to work in the same field. Christine graduated from a vocational rehab program and started working in McDonalds.
We celebrated with Elise, who immigrated from Korea and recently graduated from Red River. She videotaped the celebration along with some of our congratulations to send to her family back home. She�s accumulating degrees and diplomas on the way to her dream of becoming a professor in early childhood education.
In our home, the high school graduation of our oldest son prompted visits from relatives from New York, South Dakota, and Arkansas. The safe grad was safe and the grad ceremony was great. We all basked in the pride of his achievement.
In preparation for the celebration, we assembled a photo album and posterboard with some pictures from his years in school. Some days I look at the kid and I can�t quite believe he�s 18 and heading to university.
At 6 feet 5 inches, he towers over both his parents. And it�s been years since we could pretend to be able to help him with his homework. I don�t remember my schoolwork being as tough as the stuff he brings home.
But his grades were great, and he graduated as an honor student with distinction. He�s headed to university next year, studying computer science and actuarial math. I didn�t even know what an actuary does until Matthew announced he was considering it as a career option.
Celebrating with all these grads over the past few weeks prompted a wave of nostalgia.
I recently pulled my high school yearbook from a closet and perused the photos and comments of some of my old classmates. There were about 600 grads in the class of 1975 at Central High. I must admit I�ve forgotten most of them. It seems so long ago and so far away.
It seems odd that, for all our pride in our image as rebels, we looked pretty much the same. Like students today, the hair styles, clothing, music and talk revealed more uniformity than uniqueness.
As I thumbed through pages, I remembered old friends and good times. I also recalled stupid pranks, dumb decisions and some bad experiences. I remembered two classmates who committed suicide, casualties of adolescent crises. I recalled exploits of the �jocks�, �heads�, and �hitters,� the achievement of the �nerds� and the aloofness of the in-crowd.
Comments from classmates reminded me that I never really fit solidly with any of those groups. My buddy, Richie, signed my yearbook with the injunction to �keep on partying.� Two years after leaving high school, I heard he had died � while partying. Others thanked me for ways I helped them. Some expressed confidence in my ability to achieve great things, while others simply teased me about the amount of classes in which I got caught sleeping.
Some teachers wished me well despite the fact I tormented them over my tenure at the school. Substitute teachers always got the roughest ride. An anonymous comment in my yearbook claimed, �Having substitutes is a waste of time because nothing gets accomplished in class, and the substitute is almost always in danger of bodily harm and mental instability.�
There were a few surprises as I looked through the yearbook. For the first time, it clicked with me that Steve Buscemi (the actor) was the same Steve Buscemi that graduated with me in 1975. Andy Friedman and Glenn Thompson, two other classmates, were killed in the World Trade Center on 9/11. I can only wonder what happened to other friends or acquaintances. There were some whom I imagined would go far in life and others I was convinced would go long in prison.
After high school, I paid to spend seven more years in school earning degrees and diplomas. Sometimes I enjoyed it, and sometimes I felt it was a complete waste of time. But in the midst of it all, I was developing a discipline of study, a habit of learning, routines of questioning information and forming beliefs.
Congratulations, grads! May the disciplines and determination developed in school whet your appetite for continued achievement in life.
Rev. Harry Lehotsky
514 Maryland Street
Winnipeg, Mb R3G 1M5
(204) 775-4929
[email protected]