At The End Of The Day

Normally, this would be the blog in which I inform everyone of my woe-tide life in hopes for some obligated sympathy. But right now, considering this stage in a teenager's life is not about how much my family sucks, or why my teachers hate me, or the aliens who tried to cut me open in lieu of a better understanding of a lesser lifeform. It is about graduation.

As many of you know, I was not going to walk. I did not feel it necessary to shell out money to do the whole blah, blah, blah, you've all heard (or rather, read) me rant about this one numerous times. I am walking now, however, and not through my own devices. Tina Fallon and Jane Palmer banded together and against all adversity (in other words, my stupidity and stubbornness) convinced me to walk. They even paid for it. So, on the one hand, I didn't have to pay for it, which is what I was protesting. On the other hand, someone had to pay for it, which is what I was protesting.

But as Mrs. Fallon stated to me, it's not about anyone or anything but me and how I felt. Getting up on that stage and being handed that symbollic diploma cover because we are apparently not to be trusted with our actual diploma until we turn in our cap and gown, is sure to be one of the greatest feelings on the face of this planet. I just wish I was valedictorian or some other person that can make a speech, so I can look my mom right in the eye while on stage and say "I told you I wasn't worthless." That'd just be kickass.

Again, I digress. This isn't about my mother. When Mrs. Fallon said that to me, that it was only about me, I actually stopped to think about how I would feel if I didn't walk. Sure, I'd be proud for standing up in what I believed in, but it would eventually dwindle down to regret. While I realize it's only symbolic of one actually graduating, there's just something about participating alongside everyone, hearing the watered-down version of pretty much every valedictorian speech from movies, and not being allowed to cheer for your friends for finally making it that gives you a warm happy feeling inside.

Ever since I was little, one of my goals would be to do the robot once I accepted my diploma onstage. And now, I realize that is completely asinine and immature. Which usually doesn't stop me, but this time it will, because it is also coupled with the "impossibility" factor. See, there's no possible way for me to do the robot onstage when I accept my diploma, because as I have stated before, it's only a diploma cover. The actual diploma is given to us after the ceremony, backstage where no one can see you, only after you give back your cap and gown.

Which basically kicks every movie stereotype, expectation and cliche back to Narnia, I suppose, but at the same time it kicks out a tiny bit of the authenticity.

I don't think I'm ready, honestly. Ready to leave, that is. I will, I won't try and fail just to stay in high school a couple more days, but it means I'll be thrust directly into life. And while I've learned, on my own and harshly, may I add, to rely on myself and not those I lived with, at the same time I've been taught by other people to lean on others.

As I step away from the halls of education and toward the American workforce, I look back with fond memories of high school, sad feelings at what I'm leaving behind, and regrets for the opportunities I've missed.

As I near the goals I seek, I look onward with blurred hope, cautious anticipation, and great apprehension for my future.

And at the end of the day, I go to sleep thinking of the present, leaving behind all my worries and fears.

Graduation Pangs

I am a senior this year, and as such I have gone through a bunch of things that most everyone I know has referred to as "a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." Which explains my friend's constant marriages and divorces. What, isn't a wedding also supposed to be a "once-in-a-lifetime opportunity" as well?
But this is about my thoughts, not my friend's epic disappointments and failures.
For example, prom. Sure, maybe with that particular name. But at my prom, I honestly felt like I was basically just clubbing with more formal clothing. And how did I feel this way? One slow dance. One. And that was only because of the homecoming king and queen's spotlight dance, where everyone had to slow dance during that. It was essentially clubbing.
Not to say it wasn't fun, it was. It just didn't feel like a "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity.
The reason I started this rant is because of a certain counter-argument someone presented me. But before this, you might want the entire back-story.
Basically, one day I was being hassled by some stupid company to buy graduation invitations and such stuff, and I thought it ridiculous. Why would I spend $50 to mail stuff to family and friends when I could accomplish the same feat for free by calling and saying "Hey, it's on this date."
I was listening blankly until the decided to pester me about shelling out $75 for my cap and gown. I was confused for a second, and asked, "Wait, you mean to keep?"
"No, to wear," a blank silence following.
"I have to pay $75 for an outfit that I'm going to wear for an hour and a half of my life, not counting rehearsals, which I must give back afterwards?"
She looked slightly taken aback. "Well... Yes."
"And isn't a cap and gown sort of necessary to, you know, walk at graduation?"
Her face began to show signs of nervousness. Obviously no one else had questioned this. "I... I suppose."
"So essentially, you're asking me to pay seventy-five dollars to participate in a ceremony which I have already earned the right to be in by surviving the trials and tribulations of high school, correct?"
"Er... yes...."
And that's when I flew off the handle. "You greedy-ass company." And I walked out.
There are several cultures with a rite of passage. It varies between them all, but all involves suffering through some kind of trial before you earn the privilege of participating in the ceremony. Absolutely no culture in the universe, after you've suffered, asks for your pet chicken in return for letting you hold a hot coal between your legs.
It's absolutely ridiculous to think that after I've gone through all the prerequisites needed to graduate, they can just say, "Oh yeah, and if you don't give us money, you can't walk." First off, it's completely unfair to the families that can't afford to take their kid to school everyday. I know a couple of kids who can't walk at graduation because they can't pay for the cap and gown because their parents have to save every penny for, you know, bills. And other important stuff. Like food. That's slightly necessary to survive.
Now, these kids are still graduating, as I am, but they won't be able to participate in a ceremony they've earned to be in, basically because they're poor.
So this is my protest.
To the people providing our caps? And our gowns?
Go play with your simian cousins.