I posted the same article up on my campus blog, and decided, why not just share it on my main one as well? Here goes; my thoughts about the whole graduation shenanigans:
The most significant thing that has occurred in my college life lately has been watching the first batch of my friends finally convocate and cross the finishing line into official 'working adult' life. It makes me think about my own convocation cum graduation coming just around the corner.
It's scary. Pressurizing. Exciting. A medley of emotions.
Of course there's the whole assumption that once we graduate, our parents will stop prodding us for our college grades, and that they'll stop assuming that we're on our laptops playing computer games (?!?!?!) instead of studying hard for finals.
You ALL know that's probably not true. They'll still nag. Only cause they love us.
There's also the excitement of receiving that degree, after working extremely hard for three, four years trying to keep up that GPA. The anxiety when you walk up the steps on stage and approach the Dean, palms sweating and trying hard to keep your eyes open in the blinding spotlight while the official photograph snaps away. (And you're secretly praying that your eyes are not shut in that photo)
Finally, you're trying so hard to hold back your tears as you watch your parents search frantically for tissues in the crowd, pride all over their faces, and you realize that you finally did them proud.
All that, and then, there's the painful realization that there's no one to plan your life schedule for you any longer.
If you think about it, your parents enrol you in primary school, so that's six years of schooling. And then, your aggregate gets you to a secondary school - four to five years of education. Junior college after that means two to three years, and then college - four years.
And then what?
It's an infinite blank space. Your fingers frantically click away at job advertisements; applying for anything that fits what you think you're looking for. Interviews, after interviews, after interviews follow.
If you're lucky, then congratulations! You've sealed your fate in a binder of papers called a contract for the next few years or so.
If not, silence.
Then you turn into a couch potato for life.
In short, my life ends in two semesters. Help.