May 8, 2009
"I graduated today."
"Oh, you went to the ceremony?"
"No. That's next week. But I got a pin that says UI Dance Alumni. So as far as I'm concerned I graduated."
"Oh. Well. Congratulations."
"Well, thank you."
May 15, 2009
I've been meaning to write this post for a week now. Something profound about getting my Master's degree. Where I am today versus where I was at this time two years ago. Where I am today at the end of 20 consecutive years in school.
I got nothin'.
May 16, 2009
I'm not quite sure of what to make of a graduating me, watching the Graduate College ceremony live on the University cable station. My attention of course is mainly to Word, as I look over the details of the announcements of this graduation I'm not attending, to send out to my family and friends. I quickly switch back to the "classifieds - craigslist" tab, hunting for New York apartments I can afford within the next month.
My sister said I will regret not going. But I made a promise to myself a long time ago to live a life of no regrets. Besides, I really don't ever make decisions lightly.
Last night my friend was crying. Bawling. He's gonna miss me so much. I know I'm going to miss him too. He's been my family here. Without him, I don't know if I would have made it through.
Maybe if the department faculty would be at the ceremony. Maybe if all my family could be at the ceremony. Maybe, if the other dance graduates would be there. Maybe...
Yet, my pomp and circumstance lay elsewhere; lay in lessons learned and experiences had:
I extended my family.
I see dance through new lenses.
I learned to make a house into a home;
to say something, and challenge people when they doubt me; and that
to make a dance is consuming and overwhelming, but always worth it.
That's all I need to take with me to my New York apartment. Any my diploma will do too.