Hello and welcome to the last Saturday of May here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is May 30th.
I’m sitting here this Saturday morning in such a suspended state of surrealism, I don’t even know where to begin in talking about our experience of graduating in the time of Corona.
While we celebrated a happy occasion last night – the Oldest getting her high school diploma and an optimistic launch into the next phase of her life, in the southern part of our state (not far from where I used to live, a friend told me this morning), blocks of buildings are smoldering.
People are angry. Unrest and uncivil discourse is at its height while people wail, wail in desperation and in grief and in the biggest burst of anger our typically “Minnesota Nice” culture has ever seen. Society is unraveling. The seams of our dresses are stretched across a belly of despair that is so large, it threatens to rip and release the flesh. And I am terrified and fearful and, well, a whole lot of other emotions that land squarely outside of the box of mindfulness.
But, up here, in our little town in Wannaska country, nestled between the Canadian border and Lake of the Woods, we are celebrating. Our town is small enough – our high school secretary determined enough – to figure out how to pull off a graduation. With the Class of 2020 absorbing one strike after another during the ninth inning of their high school career, I wondered how it would go. The Oldest had mentally prepared herself for rain because, you know, anything is possible these days.
And by golly, the high school secretary did it.
She did it with an incredible team who, simply put, loves our children. All those who wrestled out all the logistics to make this monumental, momentous, unforgettable night happen did so because they love our children.
And I felt this love. Immensely. Immeasurably.
The night began with greetings from our secretary organizer who handed us congratulations, programs, and directions. Our graduate’s name was slapped on the back of the minivan. All the volunteers wore masks which to me, in these days, is one of the most visible symbols for saying, “I care about you.”
Our graduate received a medal and her honors cords to add to her FIRST robotics cords which she’d already received in the mail. The medal was golden and weighty, with a large, ornate “V”. Yes, our daughter is an excellent student, but to see that V, and to feel the weightiness of this medal, it symbolized a deeper significance and honor for all the hard work of our daughter’s academic excellence. It was a special moment shared among the seven of us in our vehicle. Proud is not quite the right word.
Profound. The moment was profound.
During the processional part of the graduation ceremony, I was awestruck by the number of people who had lined up along the parade path to cheer for our graduates. Every time I saw a face I recognized, my heart swelled with joy. "You came out for us!" I thought. You came for my daughter.
The book club ladies, the prayer group ladies, the knitting club, my volunteer friends, my parent friends, teachers, co-workers, neighbors, the dentist, the grocer. I was overcome with joy. I waved back and rejoiced with immense gratitude. Love of neighbor. And I kept thinking, “Thank you. Thank you for loving my daughter.”
And maybe it’s silly or vain to think it was all meant for me and my family. But, I’m telling you, in that moment, it felt like the whole world – our community and home – did in fact care about us, up close and personally. Loving. I titled this post, “Graduation In the Time of Corona” but what we experienced last night was an act of love in the time of Corona.
Our communities, state, and nation has spent this past week in turbulence and turmoil, and yet, last night we all came together in unity to celebrate the Class of 2020. I pray that we can all take home a little bit of that peace shared last night at our socially-distanced high school graduation and infuse it into our hearts and bring it forth to the world. Do it for the Class of 2020. They’re ready for their next adventure and I, for one, want to keep cheering them on. Because I love them.
Kim
I’m sitting here this Saturday morning in such a suspended state of surrealism, I don’t even know where to begin in talking about our experience of graduating in the time of Corona.
While we celebrated a happy occasion last night – the Oldest getting her high school diploma and an optimistic launch into the next phase of her life, in the southern part of our state (not far from where I used to live, a friend told me this morning), blocks of buildings are smoldering.
People are angry. Unrest and uncivil discourse is at its height while people wail, wail in desperation and in grief and in the biggest burst of anger our typically “Minnesota Nice” culture has ever seen. Society is unraveling. The seams of our dresses are stretched across a belly of despair that is so large, it threatens to rip and release the flesh. And I am terrified and fearful and, well, a whole lot of other emotions that land squarely outside of the box of mindfulness.
But, up here, in our little town in Wannaska country, nestled between the Canadian border and Lake of the Woods, we are celebrating. Our town is small enough – our high school secretary determined enough – to figure out how to pull off a graduation. With the Class of 2020 absorbing one strike after another during the ninth inning of their high school career, I wondered how it would go. The Oldest had mentally prepared herself for rain because, you know, anything is possible these days.
And by golly, the high school secretary did it.
She did it with an incredible team who, simply put, loves our children. All those who wrestled out all the logistics to make this monumental, momentous, unforgettable night happen did so because they love our children.
And I felt this love. Immensely. Immeasurably.
The night began with greetings from our secretary organizer who handed us congratulations, programs, and directions. Our graduate’s name was slapped on the back of the minivan. All the volunteers wore masks which to me, in these days, is one of the most visible symbols for saying, “I care about you.”
Our graduate received a medal and her honors cords to add to her FIRST robotics cords which she’d already received in the mail. The medal was golden and weighty, with a large, ornate “V”. Yes, our daughter is an excellent student, but to see that V, and to feel the weightiness of this medal, it symbolized a deeper significance and honor for all the hard work of our daughter’s academic excellence. It was a special moment shared among the seven of us in our vehicle. Proud is not quite the right word.
Profound. The moment was profound.
During the processional part of the graduation ceremony, I was awestruck by the number of people who had lined up along the parade path to cheer for our graduates. Every time I saw a face I recognized, my heart swelled with joy. "You came out for us!" I thought. You came for my daughter.
The book club ladies, the prayer group ladies, the knitting club, my volunteer friends, my parent friends, teachers, co-workers, neighbors, the dentist, the grocer. I was overcome with joy. I waved back and rejoiced with immense gratitude. Love of neighbor. And I kept thinking, “Thank you. Thank you for loving my daughter.”
And maybe it’s silly or vain to think it was all meant for me and my family. But, I’m telling you, in that moment, it felt like the whole world – our community and home – did in fact care about us, up close and personally. Loving. I titled this post, “Graduation In the Time of Corona” but what we experienced last night was an act of love in the time of Corona.
Our communities, state, and nation has spent this past week in turbulence and turmoil, and yet, last night we all came together in unity to celebrate the Class of 2020. I pray that we can all take home a little bit of that peace shared last night at our socially-distanced high school graduation and infuse it into our hearts and bring it forth to the world. Do it for the Class of 2020. They’re ready for their next adventure and I, for one, want to keep cheering them on. Because I love them.
 |
| Congratulations to the Class of 2020! |
On This Day
Historic Highlights (credits)
2011 - Germany abandons nuclear energy
The government's decision followed the nuclear meltdown at Japan's Fukushima power plant and years of hands-on protests and activism by Germany powerful anti-nuclear movement.
1967 - The Republic of Biafra is proclaimed
The short-lived state consisted of Nigeria's Eastern Region. Its secession sparked the Nigerian Civil War, which lasted until 1970 and resulted in the region's re-integration into Nigeria.
1962 - Benjamin Britten's War Requiem is premiered
The work was performed for the consecration of the new Coventry Cathedral, which had been destroyed in World War II. It juxtaposes the traditional Latin Mass for the Dead with war poems by Wilfred Owen.
1961 - The Dominican dictator, Rafael Trujillo, is assassinated
El Jefe had been the Dominican Republic's President for 31 years. Despite the assassination, the intended removal of the dictatorship in the Caribbean country failed as the ruler's son, Ramfis Trujillo, soon stepped into his father's shoes.
1911 - The first Indianapolis 500 is held
Ray Harroun won the first running of the 500-mile automobile race, which is today one of the world's most prestigious sporting events.
Happy Birthday to You!🎶
1980 - Steven Gerrard, English footballer
1949 - Bob Willis, English cricketer
1846 - Peter Carl Fabergé, Russian goldsmith, jeweler
1814 - Mikhail Bakunin, Russian philosopher, theorist
1768 - Étienne Marie Antoine Champion de Nansouty, French commander
Remembering You
1993 - Sun Ra, American pianist, composer, bandleader, poet
1960 - Boris Pasternak, Russian author, poet, Nobel Prize laureate
1778 - Voltaire, French philosopher
1640 - Peter Paul Rubens, Flemish painter
1431 - Joan of Arc
Spread peace and love to our neighbors and make it a great Saturday!
Kim
Your post brings genuine tears to my eyes, Kim. Really beautiful. I wish your daughter all the best. My girl graduated from high school last spring, when none of the events happening now could've been imagined. We're living in such surreal times, and we can only hope we'll come out of it more resilient and stronger. Peace to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mary! My daughter will be studying in your neck of the woods so we should try to meet in person sometime in the next 4 years. I keep telling myself to use the Muse & the Marketplace as the carrot to finish that durned book #2.
DeleteOh, that's great about your girl, Kim! Where will she be studying? (I also understand if you don't want to share that info, as I don't normally post much about my kids online. Now that they're adults, they prefer to share their own info, and I totally get it.) In any case, I'd love to meet up with you when she's in school, preferably after we have a vaccine! And yes, the Muse is pretty great and exciting. How is # 2 coming? I so love Elevator Girl.
DeleteKim your blog was heartwarming, insightful, emotional and so well written capturing the emotions of these turbulent times and a graduation milestone. Thanks for sharing and pass my congratulations on to Tereza who has many new adventures ahead. She looks so happy in photo.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sue! I will. I appreciate you taking the time to have a read and thank you for your congratulations and celebrating with us. She WAS so happy in this photo which is why I wanted to use it. Somehow, some way, it will all work out. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, eh?
DeleteYou've gone and done it this time! Terrific post - full of heart.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, JPS. Finding my voice is an exciting journey.
Delete