Graduating into the new ‘normal’
I’ve had this column written in my head for a week or so, as I usually try to think ahead, especially at busy times of year. That column fell apart, however, and it felt wrong in some ways. Instead of writing a completely new column, I’ll tell you some of the things I was thinking and then give you the new column.
May almost always brings mixed emotions. It is the end of the academic year for me, so there is the promise of extra writing time about to arrive, and, as any writer knows, that is a doubleedged sword. I have the time to write, hooray! I have the time to write, oh no, what will I write?
Recently writing has meant that I have the chance to dive back into my poetry, something I have always loved writing, but something that had to wait in the wings while I wrote academic articles for my job. As the new poet laureate of Bethel, I also have the promise of poetry readings with all of that nervousness and joy. The year started with several virtual poetry readings as we tried to stay safe in the uncertain stages of the pandemic (or is it endemic now?). Then in-person readings arrived, and the elation of seeing and hearing people react to words is incomparable.
May also means that I will be seeing a group of English majors leave campus for whatever awaits them in that bright and shiny — but also dark and terrifying — future. Every once in a great while there is a student I am happy to see leave, but the vast majority of the time I am sad to see them go. In the last classes of the semester, I often joke that I will have to give them all failing grades so they will have to stick around a little longer.
We have a tradition at my university where the faculty will line up when the students from their department are walking across the stage to give one last greeting. There are often tears in the
receiving line, and more than a few students fling themselves at their favorite professors for a big, well-earned hug.
In 2020, graduation was canceled entirely. I made a little video greeting for the graduating seniors, but it wasn’t quite the same. We did have an in-person graduation in 2021, but it was socially distanced, with faculty seated at least six feet away from each other. It goes without saying that the receiving line didn’t happen.
This year we returned to some sort of normal. Graduation was back on. Hugs and tears commenced. And for me, the jewel of my summer plans — teaching in a study abroad program that was canceled in 2020 and wasn’t even offered in 2021.
Right now I am sitting in an apartment in Rome listening to the noise of scooters and pedestrians outside my
There are often tears in the receiving line, and more than a few students fling themselves at their favorite professors for a big, well-earned hug.
window thinking about how some kind of normality has returned. Unfortunately, “normal” is one of the most slippery terms in the English language (I don’t know enough Italian to know if this is true for the people talking loudly on the street corner).
I awoke yesterday to see a message from a colleague back home who will be joining me shortly to tell me about the school shooting in Texas. The kids were the same age as my son, the little boy who means everything to me. Unfortunately, this is also part of what “normal” apparently means. CBS News reports that the latest brings the total up to 27 school shootings in 2022.
I don’t like this version of “normal.”