Since I’m on a run with catching up with all the of the blogging I have missed from writing exams over the last two weeks, I thought I would pay tribute to those who have worked hard and made it to graduation, before I call it a day. I know how much of a big deal it is when you climb the highest mountain, swam the deepest water or completed the highest degree, you just want to stand for a moment and breath it in, those priceless few seconds as you reach the summit. It is when your pen drops on the desk and you walk over to table at the front of the class and hand in the fruits of your labour that those few seconds start.
Very dew people will know how much effort, time and money went into reaching that point, the end of a very long road. This year, from my institution, an estimated 30 student will have reached that milestone in my degree program. Although I will not be up there with this term’s group of graduates, basking in the limelight of the convocation, I will be there as a spectator as several of my friends have invited me to share this highly prestigious moment with them.
From my last Monday class, lovingly called CRIM4900, I found that six or seven of the student in that class alone were spending there last few moments as students as they handed in their exams. At this level, all of them will have completed their Bachelor of Arts in Criminology or some other degree. They all have paid their dues, four years, 120 credits, 40 to 50 courses. It’s nuts eh?
So I raise my glass to you all for a job well done! Aaron, who I have had the privilege of sharing many group and research studies with in all those classes we shared. Carol, who showed me that no matter how hard-ass the prof is, they to are people and have feelings—although they sometimes don’t like to show it. Evelyn, Sheryl, and Candace who made poster making in social sciences that much more enjoyable—glue bonds more than the word to paper—it bonds the pen as well. Parhm, the silent genius who rescued me from the wrath of hard-base quantitative statistics and foiled the bell curve. There are many more, and I will miss you all.
Please queue the song, “School’s Out Forever,” by Alice Cooper 1972.