WSU Graduation

Five years ago, we were sitting in the same place, Beasley Performing Arts Coliseum at Washington State University. Back then we were listening to administrators, campus police, and students talk about the college experience as a WSU Cougar at the Alive orientation. 

Now, in the second of three ceremonies, the band played Pomp and Circumstance as more than 900 (out of 2,350) men and women filed in. They were dressed in the customary black gowns and square mortarboards, some decorated, sitting atop their knowledge-filled heads.

         Life had been so hectic leading up to Johnny’s graduation, I hadn’t had time to reflect. Our relatives who had planned to come, had medical problems that made traveling risky. My seasonal job continued on much longer than expected, right up to the day we had to drive over to Pullman. I squeezed in a Zumba, Cinco de Mayo, night out with the girls celebration after work.

The next morning as I was packing, I realized that the leis my parents sent, hadn’t arrived. Phone calls with tracking numbers were flying across the ocean to parents, from the florist in Hawaii, and to Fed Ex. An hour and a half later, our doorbell rang. The box of leis was placed in my relieved hands, and Suzy didn’t get to bite the delivery man, although she tried hard.

           Meanwhile in Pullman, Johnny was taking finals, turning in papers, and playing piano for a jury of music professors the day before graduation. Johnny’s roommates were finishing up in the College of Education and the English department. His girlfriend Sarah, and other roommate Marissa were planning the graduation festivities, and coordinating with their families coming to town.

We were part of the caravan of U-Haul trucks, RV’s, vans, and pickups driving into the heart of WSU. After we arrived, John and I managed to “kidnap” Johnny so we could have him all to ourselves for an hour in the calm eye of the graduation hurricane. The three of us found a table in Rico’s.

We clinked our beer glasses together congratulating Johnny for a job well done, and listening to him talk about his post-graduation plans. No matter how bad the economy is, or what’s going on around the globe, when you’re 22 with a fresh college diploma in your hand, the world beckons.

               Saturday morning, graduation day, Johnny donned his cap and gown, and we roamed around campus taking pictures of him by WSU landmarks. Another family trailed us with their graduate. We took turns climbing a ladder by the gigantic Washington State University at the entrance of Pullman to snap pictures, then we met up with them again in the center of Cougar Plaza downtown.

It was time to go back to his apartment where I opened the precious box of leis. I draped the fragrant maile leaves and orange ilima lei, and a ti leaf and he’e lei around Johnny’s neck. Sarah had a sweetly scented tuberose and orchid lei, along with an intricately braided orchid lei.  Marissa’s lei was made of orchids too. My parents had also included an extra orchid lei for Johnny to give to another friend.

He had that extra lei in his one hand, and his other hand was holding onto his mortarboard hat when he jumped out of the car to run the last three blocks to Beasley Coliseum while we sat stuck in traffic. As he ran down the sidewalk, Marissa jumped out of her parents’ car to join him. Their gowns flapped in the wind as they ran/walked. They looked very competent weaving between the crowds, conditioned from 8-10 semesters of running late for class. (Sarah’s commencement was later that afternoon at 3:00, but she’d have a chance for one last run too.)

So there we were, sitting up high in Section 10, EE, our eyes searching for Johnny, looking for the leis, spotting lots of other graduates wearing leis.  Now I had time to reflect on his years at WSU. He’d switched majors once. He’d lived in one dorm, and three apartments. He’d had five roommates including one who taught him how to skateboard, and one who he “nursed” through a broken leg. He’d eaten in the dining halls, cooked his own meals, and put out a kitchen fire.

He’d become an expert at driving a stick shift in the snow on hilly terrain. He’d successfully appealed a parking ticket issued for parking in front of a fire hydrant that he hadn’t seen because it was buried under 6 feet of snow. He’d collected gas money for driving other students home on breaks.

He’d mastered music composition, sight-sang do-re-me-fa solfeggio, and learned how to play the harpsichord. He’d survived calculus, discussed theories about the workings of society today with the TA in Sociology, and talked at length with his Physics professor after his favorite course, Life in the Universe. He’d worked part time in an Entomology lab, and had a foot stomping, Indiana Jones spider infestation experience there.

He’d run onto the field in Martin Stadium and jumped up high enough behind a reporter for us to spot him on TV when WSU beat the Huskies 16-13 in the ’08 Apple Cup. He’d partied in a Jack Sparrow costume at a frat house for Halloween. He’d figured out how to do laundry—and that throwing it off his balcony was easier than walking it down stairs and around the building to the laundry room.

He’d sprained his wrist goofing off on campus, and dodged the largest concentrated outbreak of swine flu in the US.

He’d befriended several international students, and did his own research inquiring into why they cursed in English instead of their native languages when they locked themselves out of their rooms.

He had truly lived the college experience.

We strained our eyes and zoomed our cameras to make sure we’d see him entering Beasley Coliseum. There he was, walking in the processional behind the man carrying the Music banner. After everyone was seated, the ceremony began. The United States Secretary of Defense, Robert M. Gates gave an outstanding, inspiring Commencement Address. He brought the audience to their feet several times.

It was diploma time. When they called, “John Stark,” he stepped up, paused, and looked into the camera. Up on the big screen, he flashed a smile and the Hawaiian shaka sign. President Floyd shook his hand, and gave him his diploma. It was official. Johnny had earned a Bachelor of Music, Cum Laude.

Walking back toward his seat, smiling confidently, he looked very comfortable in his new place in life, a college graduate!

Laura Keolanui Stark is the proud mom of Johnny Stark. She can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.