In recent years, I find myself praying for rain—not a downpour, just enough of a brief shower to justify the obscene cost of the tent that we are all sitting under. No luck so far. —Colin S. Diver, Reed College
It’s hard not to notice, at the very moment I’m at the podium in the most brilliant portion of my speech, that so many of our well-scrubbed, well-prepared graduates are texting or Twittering, maybe even listening to their iPods. They sure know how to keep a university president humble—and grateful for the longstanding Cornell tradition of keeping commencement to no more than an hour. —David J. Skorton, Cornell U.
I sometimes focus on feet, women’s shoes, specifically. I guesstimate the chances that I can catch Student A if she falls off her platforms. I denounce the invention of flip-flops. I often wonder how Student B’s mother let those shoes out of the door—and, by association, what’s under the gown. Every commencement shoe has a story, including mine, which scream style: high heels, pointy toes, always black. —Donna M. Carroll, Dominican U. (Illinois)
My only thought normally is, I better not read my BlackBerry right now because 5,000 parents and graduates are going to see me checking my e-mail. —Kirk H. Schulz, Kansas State U.
It’s traditional at Wofford College for the president, in lieu of a celebrity speaker, to deliver brief remarks at commencement, thus shortening the ceremony. I’ve generally tried to be pithy and amusing, and, several years ago, I chose as my text the familiar roadside sign “Watch for Falling Rocks.” I had scarcely uttered that phrase when a sudden gust of wind lifted a gigantic potted palm on the staircase over my head and smashed it to the ground several feet beyond the podium. Aside from my obvious gift for prophecy, I have tended to spend my idle platform moments since then by trying to calculate the direction of the wind and the likelihood of other unidentified flying objects. —Benjamin B. Dunlap, Wofford College
I am one knotted, black-polyester-clad muscle during each of our eight commencements held every year. All of the details matter on this deeply meaningful day; however, I am thinking one thing, and it is an important question: Which will end first, the commencement speech or the students’ attention? —Andrew K. Benton, Pepperdine U.
At the top of the list is footwear, since we have a number of students who stumble on the stairs to the stage, especially women who lose a high-heel shoe or flip-flop and trip forward. Next on the list is loose bracelets, since one has to beware of those with sharp trinkets that end up between the student’s palm and mine. Finally, because I’ve been a president for a long time and have been inducted as an honorary member of a number of societies, I have to think through the various secret handshakes that may be approaching. —Graham B. Spanier, Pennsylvania State U.
Over the years, a tradition has developed of a voluntary betting pool to which members of the platform party contribute one dollar apiece. The winner of the pool is the person who comes closest to predicting the time elapsed from when the first member of the platform party sets foot on the stage to when the first member leaves the stage at the end of the ceremonies. The vice president of finance collects the money and acts as timer. The duration of the ceremony varies from two and a half to three hours, depending on the length of remarks and the pace at which names of the graduates are read. Proper decorum is maintained, but embedded therein is a sporting chance. —Bobby Fong, Butler U.
As I sit at commencement, I think how fortunate I am to be the person responsible for shaking all the hands of the graduates. ... Of course, I’m also thinking about how eager I am to get to my hand sanitizer as soon as the ceremony is finished. —Joe Gow, U. of Wisconsin at La Crosse
