I don’t know that anything feels as heartbreaking during this COVID-19 pandemic than this quarantine keeping people from school. Before I go further, I am not discrediting all of the hard work that everyone is doing to make sure that we’re closer to a cure and saving lives, but for the rest of us we’re stuck indoors all day, forced to not see people we love. It’s been difficult for all of us, especially with some not able to sleep at all.
I am thankful in saying that I am nocturnally sound at this moment, but I understand the reason that some have been struggling. There is this uncertainty thrust into our lives that none of us have an answer for. We want life to return to a normalcy that most of us know can’t be done without any major risk. A lot of us have essentially been decommissioned for the near future, and it’s driving us stir crazy, our productivity taking a downward turn and Netflix streaming going up. What can you do when everyone around you is saying to stay at home, as if we’ve downgraded heroism into being a couch potato?
The truth is that I don’t have that answer. I started The Memory Tourist largely as a way of coping with my own anxiety. However, it isn’t always enough. The reality of ambiguity will always return once I publish an article and leave me both looking at the world and my collection of distractions and wondering which has more significance. Could I be doing more to make this time eventful, even positive for everyone who stumbles upon this website looking for a sense of escapism?
There is one story that I keep coming back to. Where we’re bombarded with news about medical advances and political turmoil, I am drawn to a certain group of people who are getting especially hit hard by this circumstance. If I feel useless, I can at least be thankful that I have some semblance of security. Beyond the necessities to survive, I have this self-worth to my name. I have personally earned an Associate’s Degree in English (with Honors). Few papers or titles have held as much significance to me as this one. It’s because this is a moment when your struggles and effort become resolved by an acknowledgment from a higher power. You did it. You completed the credits, learned the stuff, and proved yourself worthy of a degree. You’re smart.
In all honesty, that wasn’t where I wanted my story to end but where it ended up being stalled out. Following my graduation from Cerritos College, I made the foolish decision to only apply to Cal State Long Beach, believing that as a lifelong local resident that I was somehow entitled to go there. For many reasons, going there feels significant. It’s practically a part of my heritage since I seem to be there every other month to see a Musical Theater West production at The Carpenter Theater (and no, this isn’t just a scam to get free parking).
But alas, there was a large influx of applications to CSULB in 2019 and I screwed myself over. It was their highest volume of applications ever, and my grades just didn’t make the cut. Due to personal matters, I didn’t register in time for future deadlines and am currently working on a plan to get back to school, provided there is any semblance of path that I can take in this current environment.
The truth is that I miss school so much. It was something that gave my life structure and meaning. Sitting in a classroom, I could be focused on a lecture, taking diligent notes while working on seeing the world in a new way. I could feel like my life was building to something. When I was at Cerritos, this was especially true. Once I figured out my goal, I pushed myself to get there. The results were fruitful, as I only got two C’s (my lowest grade) in my time. There is nothing as amazing as knowing that you can be that smart, and the ellipses that followed graduating have been quite uncomfortable.
The thing that scares me most is that my graduation didn’t happen years ago. If I had my life together, I should’ve graduated from a community college around 2010 or 2011 when all of my friends did. Most of them went to CSULB and immediately encouraged me to apply there. I didn’t have the grades or the patience. I was a terrible student, spending most of my five years at a two-year school not taking anything seriously. I was lost, unfocused, and didn’t really have a direction with my life.
In some ways, a lot of that time makes me especially sympathetic right now. While I was at college the first time (at Cypress College), I was also a courtesy clerk at Stater Bros., which gave me just as much of a deflated sense of self. However, I understand what it’s like to work long hours. I was such a reliable employee that I was often assigned to work closing shift on Sundays, which on the busiest weekends meant that I was there until close to midnight (or roughly an hour of overtime on an eight-hour shift).
I haven’t worked at a grocery store in close to five years, but it teaches you a basic empathy. After working there I have an issue being mad at anyone who you’d currently call an essential worker. It’s witnessing the arguments of customers whose coupons are expired, or working a dreaded eight-hour shift where you have five hours AFTER lunch. There are so many small things that make you vulnerable, and I understand that you have bad days. I quit because the bad days outweighed the good, though I admire those who have stayed stronger. I guess when I see somebody having a lapse of judgment, I don’t see arrogance but just a man who is tired, doing everything in his power to keep going.
What I’m saying is, be nicer to your workers. I don’t even know what current conditions are like, but I imagine it’s terrible, like a war zone of customers berating staff for no good reason. My heart is with you and you’re all stronger than me for being able to take all of this in good stride. I know what it’s like to work Thanksgiving or the Super Bowl and be bombarded with so much action that you’re never in the right place even when you are helping. Keep it up and I hope your manager has enough heart to reward you kindly when this is over.
I bring all of this up because a certain horror hit me when I turned on the news. It was the news that high school seniors weren’t going to walk graduation. At this point it was obvious, but you always held out some hope that things will get better, or that there will be some way around this. However, I don’t know a school that has a football field big enough for hundreds of seniors to walk six feet apart, let alone the extra hours piled onto the “Pomp & Circumstance” of it all. Nothing about it would work in a reasonable scenario.
But that’s the thing that got me thinking about my own recent education. In 2016, I had finally gotten my life back together and had this dream of getting a diploma by the time that I was 30. While my first year back was seen more as an adjustment period (by coincidence, every class covered a credit anyway), I hit the books and studied hours when I got home. I reread chapters and perused notes looking for deeper meaning, hoping to succeed where I had previously floundered.
Cut to the chase, I achieved my goal in 2019.
While there is something insufferable about walking at graduation (the wait is interminable), I was looking forward to this moment because of what it represented in a greater context. When you were in that cap and gown, it was the culmination of hard work. The crowd was cheering you on. Where I missed its significance in high school, I was sure not to miss it in college.
This wasn’t just because college degrees open more doors. It was because of what it represented in my own personal life. I had graduated high school in 2008 and pretty much wasted my education ever since. Whereas I build a community of friends in the journalism department, my grades were so poor that I wondered why I was even there. My friends could tell me I was smart, but was I? There was no affirmation. I didn’t have a degree to speak for, and it really does play with your self-esteem.
Having that moment was a big deal because I recognized the struggle to get to that stage better than some of the people in my graduating class. It had taken me 11 years of trials and errors as life got in the way and I evolved as a person. To me, it was putting to rest this uncertainty that I was never going to amount to anything. It was overwhelming to finally get to that stage and have this moment. It was so meaningful and in some way it has greatly altered how I see myself.
Would things be different if I didn’t walk? I think something is lost if you don’t participate in the celebration. It changes how you see getting your diploma, like it’s just another piece of mail amid your old flyers for Michael Bloomberg’s ill-conceived presidential campaign. This tradition is something that you only get after putting in the time and effort, to watch a stadium cheer as your name is called from a speaker.
And the worst part of it all was the thought that if something had gone wrong, if I had failed three or four classes, I would probably be graduating right now. The essence of the moment would be different. I would never have been able to walk out on that stage and bask in the realization that my effort was finally being rewarded. Sure, I would’ve gotten that diploma still… but it wouldn’t be the same. How would I feel about myself if I didn’t have that moment, forced to sit at home alone and assume that people are cheering for me?
That is why I feel heartbroken about hearing that the high school seniors or the recent college graduates aren’t going to be walking. It may seem like a silly moment to some, but that is one of the great rituals that not everyone gets to participate in. You’re alone out there, realizing that this moment is about you.
There is something about the cap and gown look that will become instantly nostalgic, drawing you back to a day, a moment, and remembering how everything happened. Considering that high school is one of the most significant and formative times in our lives, not having that moment is a great loss. You just feel like you started summer break early, and with so little effort that you may as well be lounging around in your smelly boxers.
I am curious to know how this generation is taking this moment because I’m sure it would be a big blow to myself. For hundreds of years, people have walked to the stage and gotten their diploma. To be the one group who didn’t make you feel like a black sheep, neglected. Nothing will ever replace the anticlimactic feeling that even if nothing went wrong, you failed to get that moment everyone dreams about.
To those graduating in the next few months, I want to say that I see you and that your accomplishments are valid. Even if nobody gets to recognize the hard work, those late nights finishing a book report or studying anthropology, hopefully, it still means something to you deep down. Things will hopefully return to normal and at that time I hope you will have a chance to revel at this moment, recognizing the accomplishments for what they are. I should know how hard it is to feel lesser. It took me 11 years to get an Associate’s Degree. While my experience is not the same, I want to close by saying that don’t be discouraged. Life will get better and hopefully that includes understanding the value of the diploma in your daily life. It’s a symbol of self-worth, of feeling like you achieved something. Nobody can take that title away from you, and that’s what will linger until any replacement comes up. Stay strong and smart out there. You earned this moment. I just wish it was better for you.
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