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Health & Fitness

Featured Blog: High School Underground: Graduation

Last week (yeah, yeah, I know-old news)the seniors of Santa Cruz High graduated. Speeches (some lame) were made, tears were shed, and students (some me) were bored.

The red cap and gown dressed seniors of Santa Cruz High School made their way to the center of the football field for graduation at Cabrillo College last week (and yes I know I’m a little late writing about this, summer has had me in its clutches since it began). The bleachers on either side of the field filled with friends, students, crying families, and me. I’m all of those: friend of seniors, student of Santa Cruz High and family (though it was too hot out for me to cry without the tears immediately evaporating) because my elder brother, Cody Love, was graduating.

What they do for graduation seems almost cruel when described factually. They march out the seniors under the blazing summer sun, making them wear clothes underneath hot cap and gowns. Then they are forced to sit in the heat and listen to lengthy speeches riddled with quotes from Dr. Seuss, Einstein, and (my personal favorite) Albus Dumbledore. These speeches aimed (and I think fell short) for a big message like “The rest of your life starts now…” or “You’ll look back on these days and…” Then the graduates wait to be called to rise and make their way single filed to the stage and then wait some more for their names to be called, receive their diploma and shake sweaty palms with the principal. Meanwhile everyone is crying. Teachers, students, parents-all of them-crying their little hearts out because their children are all grown up and leaving.

See? When you describe it like that it sounds really quite awful.

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I really hope that I get to write a speech for my graduation class (though I'm sure it passes through a lot of censoring before it's approved). I'm not going to write about how lucky everyone is to have these memories or how much fun and excitement awaits them in the real world.

I just want to tell it to them straight.

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Tell them that life is going to suck at times, and most of their dreams won't work out. That they can have everything planned out to the tiniest detail but they can never really have any control. That they might not take the path they chose but the one they were forced to take led them to a much better place.

I would tell them that they just have to learn to ride the untamed seas of life and hold tight to their piece of driftwood and paddle as hard as they can for that island on the horizon, because if they want something they're going to have to really go for it. Realistically there will be hundreds of others racing them to that very island, and only by perseverance will they reach it.

But enough of my rants, you read this (if there is even a "you," I'm not entirely sure anyone will read this) because you wanted to hear about graduation, not some angsty teen and his unrealistic fantasy.

I was in the stands with about 12 other people, a combination of Cody’s friends, my friends, and our family. The thing about our family is that we tend to be loud. I’m not talking about cheering with everyone else loud, but screaming at the top of our lungs, red in the face, stomping the bleachers loud (I personally think it’s from my elder brothers football and basketball games).

When my brother’s name was called I think we may have deafened the unlucky few sitting around us. We certainly got dirty looks and head turns for all of our shouting, clapping, horn blowing, and stomping. As if that wasn’t enough, my little brother shot his new tiny confetti gun into the air with a loud pop.

I’m just glad I didn’t have to be the one we were cheering for.

Graduation was, in all honesty, a little anti-climactic. Maybe I’ve been watching too much television, but this is not how I thought graduation was going to be. Where were the life-altering talks? The sweet declarations of love shouted into the microphone? The student tearing up his or her speech and talking from the heart? At least an immature prank or a sudden yell of “Go Santa Cruz!” would’ve been appreciated. Alas, it was normal.

The graduation was really unemotional for me. Maybe it was the lame typical speeches, or maybe the embarrassment of my family’s cheering. Maybe I was just envious of the seniors being allowed to emerge into the light from the high school underground.

Maybe because I still have a whole two years left stuck there.

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