Last weekend, as a parent and 36 years ago as a student, I went to Michigan Stadium as part of tens of thousands of spectators for the University of Michigan's annual commencement ceremony.
Saturday morning, I walked the mile from campus to the Big House with my wife, daughter, and 87-year-old grandma Nora, waited in a long security line, and then walked to the top of the bleachers, row 96. I climbed the stairs to. . Her 15,000 students from his 26 schools gathered on the football field, and my son was among them. More than 60,000 very proud parents and loved ones sat in the stands.
We don't know the exact risks that caused the University of Southern California, Columbia University and other universities to cancel all commencement ceremonies this year. But what my family experienced on Saturday underscored that the loss is substantial and that it goes far beyond the personal.
After the obligatory playing of “Long Live the Victors” and the raising of the flag, everyone took their seats and as the speeches began on Saturday, I burst into tears as I remembered the spring of 2020, when my son barely graduated from high school. Ta. We watched a video that we had recorded from high school. School in our kitchen, that was it. He no longer has the opportunity to be captain of his senior year's Frisbee team. The same goes for high school prom. He never says “goodbye” or “thank you” to his favorite history teacher. There will be no graduation party. His first year in Ann Arbor was similarly disrupted by COVID-19.
But four years later, the pomp and circumstance have become very satisfying. Some speeches were very good and some were not so good. And yes, there were protests. About 50 of the thousands of graduates unfurled flags and banners and spoke out in support of Palestinian rights. A plane circled the stadium holding a banner reading “We Stand with Israel,'' then later (presumably pulled by the same plane) held up a banner reading “Withdrawal from Israel.'' Still, the speaker's voice could be heard. The students were honored.
At college graduations, parents need to be able to share a mental high-five about the greatness of their child's education (and paying for it). And students need to be with their peers to celebrate their accomplishments in a big way.
Universities that have canceled main stage events may counter that they are offering small, intimate ceremonies to publicly recognize the next generation. That's good. Before and after the show at the Big House, we attended department-only events. I met my son's favorite professor and hugged his sophomore roommate and his parents. But departmental gatherings are far from a suitable replacement for community-wide ceremonies.
When I received my bachelor's degree in 1988, we students talked too much during commencement speeches as beach balls bounced from row to row of capped and gowned graduates. I remember the speaker admonishing us for being rude. (He was right.) There were protests then too. The biggest demonstration was reserved for former U.N. Ambassador Jean Kirkpatrick, who helped design the role of the U.S. military in Central America. I am a student activist who won a campaign for student government president on the platform that universities should not expel students for non-academic protests.
But I didn't think of graduation as a referendum on schools, free speech and assembly rights, or national defense policy. It was a public acknowledgment of a personal milestone, and it was meaningful.
On Saturday night, I carefully made it my duty to post about the day's events on social media for friends and family who couldn't be there. I intentionally did not include any images or references to the protests. But, as expected, the protest received wide front page coverage across the United States.
Indeed, signs and chants provide a sensational media image. VIPs and their speeches may be rudely interrupted. Protesters can exercise their rights and undermine the program. Security may be tested. But absent significant risks, cancellation or reduction does not outweigh the benefits of public celebration of education and excellence.
Graduating from USC or Columbia or Michigan is a once-in-a-lifetime milestone. A disconnected approach doesn't do it justice. Administrators should not settle for less for students and their families.
Ken Weine lives in Brooklyn and is a communications consultant.
