It’s been a week since the venerable institution of Calvin College empowered me to move a string on a piece of cardboard and handed me an empty diploma case (and a cool medal that I’ll definitely wear when I’m old and washed up and need something with which to validate my life). I want to make more jokes here, but I also don’t want to intensify your emotional whiplash more than I already have.
Graduation weekend went surprisingly well. All of my family got along, I wore a cute dress and didn’t trip in the 3 inch wedges Ana and Danae convinced me to buy, Ana came out to GR, my students actually seemed sad that I was leaving, I shook hands and smiled for pictures, my church family got to meet my blood family, and my biggest problems were that my cap wouldn't stay on my head and that my feet hurt. It was a whirlwind, and I barely had time to watch the first episode of the Bachelorette, let alone think.
It was a joy to feel like everything was coming to a close, but it honestly didn’t feel like a close. Maybe since I’ve attended two other Calvin graduations, my brain didn’t quite get the memo that the graduate was me this time. Even as when I wished friends goodbye as they left for DC, France, Arizona and Utah, I didn’t understand that I was saying goodbye for good(-ish) until I was staring out the window at the open fields of the New York Thruway. I also kept feeling like graduation wasn’t a big accomplishment; maybe it wasn’t for me since I’m a privileged East coaster who has been groomed to attain higher education and has the drive and the want to complete it well, but I know that is far from most people’s reality. I ended up liking all the hullabaloo, but my favorite moments were at my house when Ana taught Noah and Greg how to play the flash game Pandemic and I made them watch the Bachelorette with us and at the Prince on our last night in Michigan when I pulled out a deck of cards to make my family play a game of Sevens.
I only missed her when I opened up my laptop screen and saw the picture of us from my high school graduation four years ago that I foolishly made my background and when I looked down the church “pew” in Creston CRC and thought, “Wish Mom got to meet everyone.” And when I cried with Grandma in the car about something as we made a pit stop for Starbucks.
Grief only really hit me again when Christine Metzger unveiled Auntie Ruth’s painting that she did in honor of Mom. Something about being 50 feet away from the classroom that she loved and 10 feet away from former teachers’ faces made her absence as real as what I’ve felt every morning this week as I’ve rolled out of bed and remembered that she’s not here to spend summer break with me.
Graduation weekend went surprisingly well. All of my family got along, I wore a cute dress and didn’t trip in the 3 inch wedges Ana and Danae convinced me to buy, Ana came out to GR, my students actually seemed sad that I was leaving, I shook hands and smiled for pictures, my church family got to meet my blood family, and my biggest problems were that my cap wouldn't stay on my head and that my feet hurt. It was a whirlwind, and I barely had time to watch the first episode of the Bachelorette, let alone think.
It was a joy to feel like everything was coming to a close, but it honestly didn’t feel like a close. Maybe since I’ve attended two other Calvin graduations, my brain didn’t quite get the memo that the graduate was me this time. Even as when I wished friends goodbye as they left for DC, France, Arizona and Utah, I didn’t understand that I was saying goodbye for good(-ish) until I was staring out the window at the open fields of the New York Thruway. I also kept feeling like graduation wasn’t a big accomplishment; maybe it wasn’t for me since I’m a privileged East coaster who has been groomed to attain higher education and has the drive and the want to complete it well, but I know that is far from most people’s reality. I ended up liking all the hullabaloo, but my favorite moments were at my house when Ana taught Noah and Greg how to play the flash game Pandemic and I made them watch the Bachelorette with us and at the Prince on our last night in Michigan when I pulled out a deck of cards to make my family play a game of Sevens.
I only missed her when I opened up my laptop screen and saw the picture of us from my high school graduation four years ago that I foolishly made my background and when I looked down the church “pew” in Creston CRC and thought, “Wish Mom got to meet everyone.” And when I cried with Grandma in the car about something as we made a pit stop for Starbucks.
Grief only really hit me again when Christine Metzger unveiled Auntie Ruth’s painting that she did in honor of Mom. Something about being 50 feet away from the classroom that she loved and 10 feet away from former teachers’ faces made her absence as real as what I’ve felt every morning this week as I’ve rolled out of bed and remembered that she’s not here to spend summer break with me.
Sometimes I wish I could lighten up a little on this blog, and a part of me wonders if this writing is a mix of performative and therapeutic. Sometimes I feel like I should be grieving more than I am; sometimes I feel like I should be grieving less. I’ve been more anxious than I have the rest of my life this week as I’ve had almost nothing to do but job interviews. I feel happy and confident about getting a job offer from a school in Michigan, and then the next day I get down on myself for it because the job isn't a standard English position that I pictured myself in. It’s like my workaholic Alex is punishing me for not being the busy beaver I have for the last four months. I kind of ran straight into the wall of summer vacation and got a concussion as a reward for all my hard work.
But let’s have some silver linings. I did get and accept a job in Grand Rapids, and I think it’ll be a new challenge for me. My negative Alex has switched from despairing over jobs to fretting over qualifications, but I’m shutting her up with my diploma, letters of recommendation, and a slew of pedagogy books that I’m getting from the library. Another silver lining: I have 14 books on hold in the library with a list of 10 more that I want to check out. I’m about to demolish my Goodreads challenge, and these books aren’t all YA—I’m diversifying, y’all. I’m going to weddings, seeing friends, and I'm hanging out with my dad (and my siblings, but mostly my dad). I can’t wait to camp in Pawtuckaway and honor Mom there, and I’m excited to see some of my old campers again and to spend my summer with a new crop of five-year-olds. It’s uncharted waters, but as a misquoted Louisa May Alcott said, “I’m learning how to sail my ship.”
Also? The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi is phe-nom-en-al. You must read it. It’s neck and neck with Educated by Tara Westover (and A Hundred Years of Solitude and Walkable City) for my favorite book read this year. bury it by sam sax is also great because everyone should read a book of poetry in their life and it’s beautiful without being as cryptic as the other magnificent poetry book I read this year, Night Sky With Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong.
But let’s have some silver linings. I did get and accept a job in Grand Rapids, and I think it’ll be a new challenge for me. My negative Alex has switched from despairing over jobs to fretting over qualifications, but I’m shutting her up with my diploma, letters of recommendation, and a slew of pedagogy books that I’m getting from the library. Another silver lining: I have 14 books on hold in the library with a list of 10 more that I want to check out. I’m about to demolish my Goodreads challenge, and these books aren’t all YA—I’m diversifying, y’all. I’m going to weddings, seeing friends, and I'm hanging out with my dad (and my siblings, but mostly my dad). I can’t wait to camp in Pawtuckaway and honor Mom there, and I’m excited to see some of my old campers again and to spend my summer with a new crop of five-year-olds. It’s uncharted waters, but as a misquoted Louisa May Alcott said, “I’m learning how to sail my ship.”
Also? The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi is phe-nom-en-al. You must read it. It’s neck and neck with Educated by Tara Westover (and A Hundred Years of Solitude and Walkable City) for my favorite book read this year. bury it by sam sax is also great because everyone should read a book of poetry in their life and it’s beautiful without being as cryptic as the other magnificent poetry book I read this year, Night Sky With Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong.
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