You could call it a milestone: my graduation

On Thursday night I had my graduation ceremony for my Bachelor of Arts. It was held at Robert Blackwood Hall at the scenic Monash Clayton Campus (those unfamiliar with Monash should note the sarcasm) on a surprisingly balmy evening. 

This photo is property of Monash University

Academic dress, the Monash University turquoise and the Faculty of Arts old rose (a colour known as pink to normal people)

The ceremony was at 8pm and the graduands were required to pick up their academic dress at 5.45pm. I was just in my trackies and planning to go home to get ready and change into all the gear. I was somewhat surprised to find that just about everyone else was there, all dressed up for graduation with their guests and waited around the campus for 2 hours before the ceremony. The staff who fitted me for my gown, silk hood and trencher hat (the hat with the tassel) were somewhat horrified that I was going to take it all home and dress myself. Shock, horror!

Robed up with my degree after graduating

There was something a little bit special about donning the academic dress, though I am a long time sucker for official uniforms. I remember wearing my first club competition leotard for gymnastics when I was little and I didn't want to take it off. Legitimacy and belonging, that's what the leotard gave me. Training in bike shorts and a t-shirt I felt like a kid doing gymnastics, wearing a competition leotard I felt like a gymnast representing my club. 

Finishing my last exams and assignments for Arts I still just felt like Eliza the bummy old Arts student. Wearing the gear and having the piece of paper in my hand did shift my perception of my Arts degree experience a little.

I'm not very good at being proud of myself. This makes my momentus occasions challenging for my parents, I suspect they are often hurt by my apathy toward things they wish I would enjoy or be proud of and wish they could celebrate with me not in spite of me.

Like many people, my internal voice is very self-critical. My internal voice seems objective, honest, unfeeling and unforgiving. The yard-stick of criticism I apply to myself is much harsher than the one I apply to others. As soon as I accomplish something I begin to think of all the reasons why it is not significant or something to be proud of. When I finished Arts, these were some of the thoughts in my head:

You should have finished with a better GPA

It's only an Arts degree, not a 'real' or difficult qualification that entailed 12 contact hours per week

How proud should one really be of attaining something that entailed 12 contact hours per week?

It's not like you did Honours, so what is there to celebrate?

You are capable of better, you didn't fulfill your full potential here so what is there to be proud of?

You still don't know what you're doing with your life so what was the point?

You didn't move out of home, get your licence, buy a car or have a significant relationship during your degree.

You have remarkable parents who provided you with just about every biological and social determinant for educational success. You haven't capitalised on those opportunities to anything like the best of your capabilities.

The way I think often isn't conducive for enjoying my own life. I have to try and get my silly head around the idea that just because I didn't break through the poverty cycle or overcome some horribly repressive social stigma or be awarded dux of my class at Oxford or Harvard or balance 2 jobs, 50 kids and a mortgage to finish my degree doesn't nullify my achievement. 

The person sitting next to me went to a very similar school to mine, has similar sounding living arrangements and parents in similar jobs and failed 4 subjects and got pretty horrendous grades over the course of his/her Arts degree. I don't pretend to know this person's full life story, but hearing their experience was a timely reminder that I perhaps shouldn't write myself off so swiftly. Maybe I should think about some other facts:

I finished my bachelor's degree at 20 years of age and completed it in minimum possible time.

I did what I had to do to stay on track despite a horror run of conflict, illness, injury and a death in my family.

I worked hard for a year and a half to revive my average after a bout of depression helped me dig a nasty hole in it. 

I finished with grades strong enough to be eligible for Honours.

I learned a lot and wrote some nice pieces of work.

I discovered a passion for a number of academic disciplines. 

I balanced uni, a part time job, music and sport.

I survived my first degree without any irreparable disasters (no tattoos that I'll come to regretted in the future, no drug or alcohol addiction, no unwanted pregnancies or sordid affairs with teachers)

Alex won the coin toss and elected to attend

I wasn't excited or proud to graduate but I enjoyed the experience. I do like it when my parents are proud of me, but I can't help but think that they should feel proud of themselves since they have worked so hard to give me the best chance of succeeding and supported me when I've been close to unlovable. There is also something a little special about the three of us having graduated from our first degrees on the same stage.

I was disappointed that Katie could not attend because Monash only allows graduands 3 guest tickets. Katie and Alex flipped a coin and Alex won so Katie stayed home.

The honorary graduand (guest speaker) was Don Burrows, a jazz musician who came across as a Dumbledore-esque eccentric grandfather type. He is a woodwind player who has played with jazz legends like Sarah Vaughan and Nat King Cole, he also does some very serious fly fishing. He made a really lovely speech about the joy of learning and living your passion.

I really loved what I was learning in my Arts degree and my graduation reminded me of a time only months ago when I was studying something I was truly passionate about. The speech did not relay any new information, but it was delivered with warmth and encouraged the audience of graduands and their friends and family to think about the role being passionate about your endeavours plays in your happiness. 

I need to keep in mind that whilst at any time I tend to focus on those I see as having done better, I need to be more mindful that in most situations there are more folk who have done worse or are worse off than me who would happily trade places. However, I think it is about time that I had the maturity to really commit to better fulfilling my potential and challenged myself to achieve something that I would feel wholeheartedly proud of.

The next time I achieve I milestone I will celebrate it properly. Celebrating myself makes me feel so uncomfortable that I lose sight of the fact that it's not just about me, it is about having a good time with people like my family who want to feel included in my life. I am also aware that having a low self-worth is not very becoming on a person. Most of the time I think I do value myself, but how much can I really value myself if I never think anything I do is worth celebrating? I need to think differently.