What it’s like to graduate online
When you picture a graduation ceremony, many images cross your mind: a sea of caps and gowns parading around lawn chairs, parents wiping away tears of joy, and siblings screaming cheers of congratulations.
But we’re in the middle of the coronavirus pandemic – and since gatherings of any kind aren’t encouraged, let alone allowed, that wasn’t going to happen. My alma mater Johns Hopkins University opted to do virtual ceremonies instead, mine slated for May 20.
I wasn’t planning on attending my inperson graduation ceremony this spring. I completed a master of arts in writing in December, the culmination of 21⁄2 years of working full time and going to school part time. It seemed like such an after-the-fact exercise, something I would’ve done mostly to make my parents happy.
It feels like I graduated back in the fall. I read part of my thesis – a collection of personal essays – in front of friends, family, peers and professors. But Hopkins doesn’t do a fall graduation, so May would be my only time to stand up formally, turn my tassel and step into the post-school unknown yet again.
During quarantine, without much human interaction for an extended period of time, I grew sad. Besides the accomplishment in itself – which I struggle acknowledging as a “big deal,” but that’s another story for my therapist – I craved being among fellow graduates and searching for families and friends in the stands. Feeling a part of something.
How I prepared: Order a graduation cap
The school chose to do graduations virtually this year, but I missed the deadline to sign up. I emailed a representative from the school in late April and asked if wasn’t too late to join, and luckily I could. I uploaded photos of myself and explained how to pronounce my name (Day-vid Loo-iss Ah-liver), and we were good to go. Now, to order a cap and gown ... well, maybe just a cap (a gown felt like overkill).
I ordered a graduation cap online and crossed my fingers it would arrive on time. It supposedly did, but wasn’t outside my apartment. Occasionally, packages end up in a different part of my row house in Washington, D.C., so I had to tape a note to the front door above my basement apartment and ask if anything had arrived. Cap secured.
The week caught up on me quickly, and I realized I hadn’t actually told anyone I was doing this. I scurried to update text chains, Facebook groups and other social media apps with the details.
Today, I put the cap on, dug my diploma out of my closet and made my roommate take a picture of me in front of our apartment.
What it was like: A livestream, but with the names and speeches
We were invited to join a digital livestream of the event, where we and our friends and family could all watch. I clicked on the page and discovered dramatic music combined with graduate headshots and photos (including the ones I submitted, both pre-quarantine) and other multimedia. I took screenshots, obviously.
The left-hand side of the page featured an “order of events,” plus links to download the commencement program and a graduate gift (a beautiful iPhone case). It’s fun when you can use keyboard commands to find your name in said program instead of leafing through pages and pages of names you’ve never seen before (and likely won’t see again). On the right-hand side, viewers could offer congratulations to graduates via a chat widget.
The ceremony itself was standard: the national anthem, followed by messages from academic leadership dressed in graduation regalia and a long, long, long list of name announcements (that I eventually muted). I turned my tassel early, impatient as ever, but didn’t throw my cap until after my name was announced.
Much like I would in person, I tuned a lot of the speeches out. But I got the gist: The platitudes about failure (it’s how you to it) and thanking those who got you there (obviously) rang the most true to my graduate school experience.
What I learned: My people are all I need (even virtually)
What I’ll remember most was less the ceremony itself and what was going on around me: Friends texting that they were watching and offering commentary; friends and family liking and commenting on my social media posts about graduating; and my roommate walking into my room blasting graduation song “Pomp and Circumstance” and carrying a candle. Thanking those who got me here might be cliché, but it’s true: The support of my “people,” even from a distance, is what mattered.
Having this all virtually prompted people who wouldn’t have been able to travel to a physical event to make time for it. Setting aside a few hours on an afternoon is much easier when you don’t need to drive or fly to get there.
The strangest thing? Not going out for a celebratory dinner or anything after. I could have prepped some kind of graduation meal, but that was one element of the night I neglected. There’s always another day to cook (or bake!) in quarantine.
Graduate school very much was an accomplishment, and one I know I’ll take with me wherever I go. Celebrating this milestone exclusively online helped the people in my life experience it with me in a unique way during an unprecedented time.
Still: Here’s hoping my next graduation, whatever that may be, can take place in a crowded group of graduates throwing their caps together.