Graduation An Antidote To Cynicism

Some people get weepy and reverential about them.

But I’ve never taken high school graduations all that seriously. I didn’t even attend my own. (My parents went to it. But that’s another story.)

So I’m not sure why I decided to go to Medical Lake High School’s commencement Saturday morning at Eastern Washington University. Maybe I just wanted to confirm that I hadn’t missed anything.

At first, it looked as if I might get my wish. Watching spectators in tank tops and shorts jockey for position with their video cameras and hearing some guy say “Batter up” at the conclusion of the national anthem didn’t exactly fill me with awe.

And it was hard not to smile when reading the class motto in the program: “This is not the end. This is not the beginning of the end. But it is the end of the beginning.”

Then something happened. Valedictorian Angela Lott stepped to the microphone and thanked her parents for their unconditional love. My cynicism started to ebb.

A little while later, as various robe-clad seniors were being recognized for awards and scholarships, a boy who had been standing as his achievements were read aloud finally got to sit back down in his folding chair. When he did, the boy in the seat next to him reached over and gave him a gentle pat on the back.

For all I know, it was a sarcastic gesture. Maybe, in truth, those two boys can’t stand one another.

Still, it looked like the real thing. And it seemed like a more valuable award than many of the others that boy had received.

Graduating seniors Jennifer Duckett and Leah Meltzer read aloud from “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” by Dr. Seuss. A divorced dad in the audience who wasn’t sitting with the rest of the family smiled for the first time.

Then came the diplomas. As the graduates walked across the stage after their names had been called out, they got to hear something remarkable. They got to hear cheering.

Family clusters spread throughout the Special Events Pavilion erupted in applause and hooraying for Sean Kevin Keneally, for Matthew James Steele and on and on.

The kids who didn’t have big rooting sections were vocally saluted by classmates.

Soon the caps were in the air and a hugfest commenced.

Outside, a sunny day was waiting.

Maybe years from now, after they’ve forgotten what the weather was like Saturday, some of the graduates will still remember. And maybe it will matter.

There once was a special day when people cheered for them.

, DataTimes MEMO: Being There is a weekly feature that visits Inland Northwest gatherings.