The other evening I had the honor of attending a college graduation even though no one I know was graduating. Explanation? Last Friday night was commencement at the community college where B. has taught for two decades and he invited me along. I hadn’t been to a college graduation since my own in 1980, and it was supposed to be a beautiful evening, so I accepted happily. (Also, I’d get to see him in his impressive academic robe, hood, and cap, so why not?)

Here’s the thing about an evening graduation in an outdoor stadium in southern California in mid-June. If it’s sunny, and it usually is, the stadium has been heating up all day and holding on to that heat because it’s a bowl. Next, the sun is out until at least 8 pm. Combine that information with the fact that we had to be there a couple of hours before the 6 pm ceremony and you see where I’m heading. But I’m a trooper, so, armed with sunscreen and my trusty black and pink Dodgers cap (both cute and functional), I toughed out the time until the sun shifted and shade arrived.

Seated in the second row of the stands, I had an up-close view of the crowd filing in. Thousands of people, all there to cheer on their graduates. And that’s where I started to feel the enormity of the evening. It was all about family – little kids, dressed in their finest and clutching a relative’s hand, there to support mommy or daddy; grandparents and great-grandparents, there to kvell at this wonderful life moment; and parents – so proud, so excited, and so overjoyed to see their children (maybe the first members of their family) get their college degrees.

One of the things about community college that I find so impactful is the “community” part. The students at these schools reflect their community because they live in it. Unlike most four-year universities, particularly the private ones, community colleges are filled with students who have to really make the effort to fit their learning into their already busy, responsibility-laden lives. Students often hold down more than one job; many are single parents; others are busy taking care of parents and grandparents; still others can only attend classes at night, after they have seen to their other obligations. Their lives and their communities are intertwined, and the commitment they bring to their studies and their loyalty to their school are really quite something.

And so, at 6 pm sharp, this year’s class of graduates, like countless before them and countless after them, marched into the stadium to the strains of Pomp and Circumstance. Just hearing that melody made me tear up, its notes carrying with it the promise of the new opportunities, challenges, and life moments that awaited these students. In a particularly lovely gesture, the students walked between two lines of the professors who have taught and guided them – professors clothed in velvet-striped gowns with jewel-toned hoods (hanging down the backs of the gowns) bearing the colors that signify their specialty and where they went to school. (B.’s hood is green, red and purple – the purple for law, the green and red for the colors of his law school). The faculty loves this part of the graduation ceremony because it’s a time for them to high-five, hug, or generally congratulate their students. And the sight of it only underscored the achievement of these young people.

And finally, the flowers. One of the most beautiful graduation traditions on the West Coast at least – and one I’d never seen before moving out here – is to present graduates with leis, and so many people in the stands carried boxes of these beautiful, plumeria-scented blossoms. And then there were the bouquets – bunches of roses, two dozen each; masses of peonies; clusters of tulips and lilies – all held until that moment when diplomas had been handed out and families reunited on the field to celebrate.

The big moment – when the students were finally declared graduates and tassels were moved – evoked such a huge outpouring of applause, cheers, and confetti, that it literally took my breath away. You could feel the happiness radiating throughout the crowd at the enormity of the occasion, and it was a privilege to share it.

To the nth degree.

©2023 Claudia Grossman