What Walking Across the Stage During Graduation Taught Me
- Simply Jelly Jam
- 3 days ago
- 11 min read
How I learned to appreciate why I walked across the stage when I did.
Before I graduated high school, I believed walking across the stage was a waste of time. It felt like an attention-seeking activity when I, an introvert, wanted to be invisible and far away from people. Years later, I realized walking was the best way for me to celebrate myself and all I achieved.
In case it's helpful, below are the main points covered in this post:
My High School Graduation: The Ceremony I Wanted to Skip
Despite being on the National Honor Society and Dean's List for my good grades, I did not want to walk across the stage for my high school graduation. I was an unhappy teenager who wanted to... well... 'end it all.'
My time in middle and high school were the worst years of my life. The typical school problems (like bullying, difficulty with certain subjects, lack of friends, etc.) made life hard, but it was Mom that made me hate life and myself.
Mom was restrictive and overprotective. (Dad said "overprotective" is not the correct word to use, but I cannot think of a better word to use right now.) I do not have the mental stability to share details, but I do not mind sharing a few things that bothered me as a teenager.
Mom did not allow me to:
Have a say in how I dressed or styled my hair.
Participate in after school or extracurricular activities including sports, clubs, or work programs.
Work part-time.
Leave the house without her or a trusted adult relative.
Go on school field trips.
Attend classes for "boys" (e.g., woodshop).
Talk to male classmates I saw while we were out in public. (This made discussing group projects outside of school hours impossible.)
Interview for university scholarships or grants because "college was a waste of time."
The list goes on. There was one other thing that almost made me drop out and 'end it all,' but that is a depressing story for another day and blog post.
I did not care to attend graduation. I wanted nothing more to do with the school or the people that made life a living nightmare outside of the house. Heck. I there were times I debated dropping out of school.
However, Mom demanded that I walk the stage. Mom needed to show everyone she knew that she was the reason I succeeded. Like holidays and birthdays, the day was about her success, not mine. I only walked because Dad said it would make him happy to see me walk on the stage.
Mom invited everyone she knew, including her friends and relatives I did not know. It was clear that Mom organized a party for her, not for me or my achievements. Only Dad, my brother and his family, and a few cousins acknowledge me. Even my paternal grandmother seemed bothered by being at a high school graduation.
Mom had a large cake made topped with a white Barbie doll that she said looked just like me. (In case you were curious, Mom is a light-skinned Filipina while Dad is a dark-skinned black man. I am closer to my Dad's color.)
Mom had a spread of food that I did not like or could not eat. And, as was the case with birthdays and holidays, I could not keep gifts unless they were non-returnable (like the picture frame engraved with my name).
That day, I learned that my achievements did not matter to anyone except a handful of loved ones. Unfortunately, Mom was not one of those loved ones who cared.
Skipping My First Higher Education Graduation
My goal after high school was to move far away from Mom. Yet, Dad retired from the Air Force and settled down in a nearby city. My parents were separated for much of my childhood. I rarely saw Dad. I did not want to miss the chance to get to know and spend time with him.
Dad encouraged me to attend the local community college. He talked me into pursuing a general studies degree since I had no clue what I wanted to do in life. Dad hoped that I would find my passion through one of my classes.
Sure enough, I found my love for arts and crafts. I entered many contests and competitions. I sold most of my creations for hundreds of dollars each. I believed that I found my passion.
Unfortunately, Mom did not believe I would ever succeed as an artist. She hated that I wasted my time attending college despite my success as a novice artist and crafter.
When she realized that I attended many fine art classes, she destroyed my drawings, paintings, and pottery pieces. Some of those items were school projects I had to recreate on campus. Others were commission pieces for people at school.
I fell into a depressive state. Hours, days, and weeks of work were gone. I lost motivation. I gave up on my dream. I almost gave up on college, but I somehow managed to finish as an honor student on the Dean's List.
When I graduated with my associate’s degree, I chose not to walk across the stage. I figured nobody would care since Mom told me not to bother with it.
Dad, on the other hand, informed me that he felt disappointed that I did not want to attend the ceremony. I felt bad for making him feel bad, but I did not see the point.
I learned that at least one member of my family cared about my achievement, but life continued even though I did not walk across the stage.
Graduating with My Bachelor's Degree: Feeling Bummed and Selfish
I completed my online bachelor’s degree (visual communication/digital arts) summa cum laude. I somehow managed a 4.0 GPA despite dealing with many life challenges including my maternal grandmother's death and my brother's stroke that drastically changed life as the family knew it.
Once again, I finished as an honor student on the Dean's List. I felt so proud of myself for not giving up!
I skipped the virtual ceremony. However, when I started working on the military installation shortly after graduating, my supervisor and colleagues encouraged me to attend the military graduation ceremony. It was open to active-duty service members, military dependents, and DoD civilians like me.
This time, I was excited about walking across the stage. Not only did I earn my bachelor’s degree, but I also finished summa cum laude, baby! For the first time, I wanted to celebrate my achievements. I wanted to celebrate me.
My parents, brother, and his family were there. My supervisor and colleagues were going to work at the ceremony (I would have as well had I not been walking) and hyped me up constantly. Even some service members I supported showed up to support me when they mysteriously learned that I was walking on the stage.
My dad, brother, sister-in-law, and nibblings (nieces and nephew) greeted me with hugs before the ceremony. A part of me worried my brother would not make it due to his newfound mobility issues, but he was there!
Dad praised me and my hard work. He said that he was grateful that I did not skip another ceremony. He said that I should be proud of my accomplishment. He said I deserved the spotlight for once.
When the family went to find seats, Mom pulled me aside. Her face was bright red. She yelled at me for being selfish. She said the family did not care that I wasted time and money on a piece of paper. She said the family did not want to be there that day. She said they were only there for familial obligation and appearances.
I told Mom what Dad said, but she insisted that he was lying to be nice. She pushed the narrative that if Dad really cared, he would have been around while I was growing up. As if she was not the one who pushed him away all those years so that she could gamble and cheat.
Unfortunately, Mom's words replayed in my head during the ceremony. I was still proud of myself, but the excitement was gone. What if Mom was right? What if my family, Dad included, were only there out of familial obligation? Why was I so selfish to waste their time on something that was only important to me?
I learned that I felt selfish for wanting my family to celebrate my achievement with me.
Graduating with My Master's Degree: Finally Proud and Without a Care
For the first time in my academic journey, I was not an honor student. I no longer made it on the Dean's List. Why? Because I pursued a degree completely different from my past degrees.
The local university had lowered tuition rates and application requirements for their degree programs. Enrollment to any degree program was open to anyone regardless of their previous degree. Their focus was on increasing enrollment numbers to transition into a major university.
Dad and a colleague encouraged me to pursue a computer science degree. My colleague said it was no different from my years of instructional technology experience. I already knew basic HTML, so she suggested that the program would be a piece-of-cake for me.
I picked up programming well, but everything else was foreign and difficult for me. Not long after I started, I resigned from work to focus on my master’s program full-time.
I spent hours learning the basics that everyone else learned years prior during their undergraduate degrees. It felt like I was attending three different degree programs simultaneously. I constantly felt overwhelmed.
One semester, I attended a math-related class. I hate math. I stink at it. But this class was supposed to be the easiest class for everyone.
We had to solve a numerous complex equations using a software program I never heard of. It was not a Microsoft Office program, or I would have passed that class with flying colors (I taught Microsoft courses when I worked on that military installation).
I do not recall the program we had to use, but I could not figure out how to use it to save my life. Classmates offered help, but they spoke above my level of understanding.
If the world depended on me to use that program to solve one complex equation, humanity would cease to exist today.
I debated dropping out but decided to fail spectacularly instead. I did what I swore during my undergraduate degree that I would never do again: I solved the complex equations by hand.
I submitted my assignments and final project as PDF scanned files of my handwritten attempts of solving for the answer. Since math and I are non-compatible, I figured I provided the wrong answers for every submission.
This professor was horrible at grading anything during the semester. At the end of the semester, he asked me to speak with him after class. I knew that day was the last time I stepped foot into his classroom. I knew I failed.
The professor, a no-nonsense man a semester away from retirement, stared at me for several minutes. I normally waited to speak until I was spoken to, but I had no care that afternoon. I spoke up and admitted that I could not figure out how to use the software, gave up on trying to learn it, and was ready to flunk the class.
Shocked, he asked about my prior degrees. I told him about my previous degrees. He asked about my GPA for each degree. I told him I finished with honors and even completed my bachelor’s with a perfect GPA.
He asked if it bothered me that I was no longer an honor student. I told him that I never cared about being an honor student or having a high GPA. I only cared about what I was able to accomplish for myself.
The professor admitted that he thought I was a stuck-up mixed Asian kid who strived for perfection. I laughed and said, "I don't know what I'm doing most of the time" and that I was just happy to succeed periodically when I tried something new.
He asked why I did not quit like seventy-five percent of the cohort did during or after the first semester. I said that I was not the type of person to give up until I had to do so. He would have to fail me for me to walk away.
After several minutes of silence (the anticipation of being told I failed was killing me), the professor admitted that he had to deduct points because I did not solve the complex equations with the required software. However, I impressively solved them all correctly, so I passed the class with a C-.
I think my literal jaw dropped because he broke out laughing. The professor spoke about me being pleasant to have in class. He saw how much I struggled. He admired my persistence and determination to learn and try new things. He believed I was destined for professional greatness and would excel in any career field.
He said there was no way I would fail the program. He only saw success in my future.
I sobbed when I got home. Happy tears, of course. That discussion (and passing grade) was a turning point for me.
Our cohort started with over one hundred students. Less than forty of us graduated.
I had never worked as hard as I did for this degree. The sleepless nights, stress, constant research, and hard work paid off. Those two years were more challenging than anything I experienced prior to that point.
No, I did not graduate with honors, but I achieved something I never thought would happen. It only made sense to celebrate my achievement by walking across the stage.
Once again, my parents, brother, and his family were there. Somehow at some point before the ceremony, Dad got permission from the university and building organizers to allow my dog, Shadow, to sit in the audience.
Dad made Shadow a matching gown and cap. Dad said that Shadow was an "honorary graduate" because he was by my side for my academic journey. Apparently, Shadow was petted by graduates, faculty, and staff for extra good luck.
Mom did pull me aside to yell about how I was wasting everyone's time. Nobody cared. Nobody wanted to be there. Blah, blah, blah. I told her she could go back home if she wanted.
Since my sister-in-law drove Mom there, she would be willing to drive Mom back since nobody wanted to be there anyway. I told Mom that I did not mind celebrating without the family, but I was going to celebrate with my classmates, Dad, and Shadow.
Walking across the stage felt surreal. I smiled like a sweet-obsessed toddler with a ten-pound block of milk chocolate all to themselves. I also earned a degree with two universities listed. Life was great!
I do not know if Mom asked my sister-in-law to drive her back home. She may have chickened out. Mom was with the family when they greeted me after the ceremony ended. She made it clear later that I was disrespectful with how I spoke to her, selfish for wasting everyone's with the ceremony nobody cared about, and how I would fail in life because of my bad choices.
I have no regrets. I learned that I could tackle difficult challenges when faced with them. I learned that feeling proud of myself did not mean that I was self-centered. I learned that I am not selfish about wanting and inviting my loved ones to celebrate my achievements with me.
Sure, my degree opened better opportunities in my chosen career field. Yet, the most important lesson I learned was that I can push through tough challenges and difficult situations. I can learn and try new things. I may even excel at it! And it was alright to celebrate me by walking across a stage.
What's Next?
If you are graduating, congratulations!!! If you are walking across the stage, work it!
You put a lot of hard work and effort into your studies. You did not give up. You kept going. You were persistent. You showed everyone, especially yourself, that you can do what you put your mind to!
Check out my graduation cap digital painting video:
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Thanks, and have a great day!
~Simply Jelly Jam
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