Graduation

I sat here tonight and stared at the computer screen.  I told myself I would be done with this project by last night, so I could give the seniors their gifts at the picnic.  Yesterday came and went, and I tried to give myself an excuse ("I'm exhausted" has been the latest one, because it's mostly true!). 

The reality is that I didn't do anything, because I didn't know what to write.  Or rather, I didn't know if I should be truthful to them.

My idea was to give them a journal to record the next year of their life, and I would write them a letter in the front.  But how do you write a touching and sentimental letter without sounding like a total sap, without making them cry, and without throwing in the "I've seen what's really important, and trust me- a lot of what you think is important isn't!!"

I want them to get out there and make their own lives, and I want them to take the chances and make the mistakes.  That's where memories come from! If life goes perfectly as planned, there aren't a lot of great stories to share with others.  Still, I was a bit guarded about what I needed to write.  I took a moment to think about my high school graduation (which took forever, because no one warned ME to write things down!).

I told my mother after remembering, that I had a frontal lobe that developed way before everyone else.  Her response: "you and your frontal lobe..."  I love my mother, and the fact that she laughs at my response.  The reality is I couldn't remember much about graduation, because I guess I knew there would be more important moments in my life. I remember that I wore my ruby slippers to the ceremony (when the rule was to wear black dress shoes). I remember that the picture of me shaking the principal and superintendent's hands while receiving my diploma feature their disdainful looks while looking down at my shoes. :-)  I remember realizing that college was a reality, because there was no more high school left for me.

So I guess I felt doom.  Expectations were out there, and I wondered if I could hack it.

No one told me to LIVE THEN. They told me to get out there, set goals, reach them, and have a great life. They didn't warn me that life was happening while I was trying to REACH the goals! No one warned me that whether I went to college for one month or ten years, that life was still going to happen; and that many of the things that happened to me were chance.  And no one told me how bad regret would feel--how when I really took a good look back at that time of my life, I regretted not taking more chances.  I was too terrified of failure- that the balls I was juggling would come tumbling down if I didn't keep up the pace.

Well, guess what? They came tumbling down.  And I turned out just fine.  And then I realized that, if anything, I wanted to warn the people that came after me.  To let them know that it's ok to have big dreams, that they can achieve them, but that they need to include fun and experience along the way.

And without sounding like some downer or an overly spiritual person (in light of my current situation), I wanted to let them know that they shouldn't plan to live to be 100.  Because they might stare in the mirror at age 30, and wonder how (and if) the next year will turn out.  And then they will REALLY regret all of these chances they didn't take.  And the retirement account they tried to create, or the savings for "when I live my life" won't really matter.  And THEN, they'll wish someone told them.

So, my gift to these students? Yes, it's a journal and a letter. But really, it's a challenge.  A challenge to get out there in the world and LIVE in it.  To take risks, to make memories, and to record them.  I don't want them to fear the world around them, and I want them to get out and explore every piece of it they can.  And what happens if they fail? At least there's a story to tell.  Heck, some of my best stories were from my failures.  And I wanted them to know they don't need to be afraid to love. These really are my two big things I want to leave behind in this world, and a good start is in 30 journals to new adults.

Graduation is a cool thing in the metamorphosis of life; it symbolizes both an ending, and a new beginning. I guess everything is cyclical, but there are few great moments that are publicly celebrated as both.  For us introspective folks, we can always see this reality.  For new graduates, I imagine this duality is terrifying.  I know great change is only scary when people focus on failure.  When we see all the opportunity, and aren't afraid to fail, that is when we LIVE.

I also brought up my list I created, and how I have really lived more in the past two-three years than I did my whole life before then. I don't want them to feel the same way- I want their lives to start now.  I can't control the future, but I can inspire it.

Last night we had the picnic of the National Honor Society, and all of the attendants were seniors. One member asked me, "is your treatment after graduation?"  Earlier yesterday, I had the doctor call to try to schedule my treatment to start on graduation day. I know it sounded trivial to him, but I told him I couldn't miss graduation for treatment.  I wanted to say goodbye before I moved on.  And I have a feeling this student was feeling the same way.

I know that I have every possibility of making it through this treatment with little after-effect, and going on to live a relatively normal life.  I also know there's a possibility of recurrence, or that my body will never be the same after treatment (that's the risk I had to weigh).  And I know it was these thoughts that made it hard to write the letter. I tried not to capture the urgency of my final words, or something crazy like that. I wanted a message of hope, and something to inspire them.

Not something to remember me by.... I'll leave my manifesto for that. ;-)

Yes, I'm Quoting Sartre and Bon Jovi Together...

In Jean-Paul Sartre's work, Existentialism is a Humanism, I found the words: 

        "...man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world – and defines himself afterwards."


Take a good minute or two and let that sink in.


And my friend, John Bon Jovi mentioned something of similar lines...

       "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got."


Yes, I just compared Sartre in a roundabout way to Bon Jovi.  I feel like if I explain, I will weaken my association. But, to keep from being called crazy, here goes...


I was thinking yesterday about how I existed all of these years, but only really LIVED for the past two.  I know I can dig up all sorts of quotes on finding myself and taking risks, but that's not really the point.  I have been around for thirty years, there's no doubt.  It's these constant encounters with myself--the grit and glitter that I am made of-- this is when I finally figure out what defines me.

I am not saying I felt this inspirational all weekend. In fact, I had a HARD time. The exhaustion is setting in, and I have moments where I want to sob.  I am so tired of being so tired, and extremely exhausted from keeping all the plates spinning in the air. 

"This is the good type of cancer to have."

"There's a great chance of no recurrence."

"If you can be sick, this is what you would want."

Excuse me, but who the hell says this stuff?!?

I know people are trying to be comforting in their own strange way, but I don't tell a person in a wheelchair "at least you don't have your legs chopped off!"  And I don't tell people with disfiguring scars from catastrophic events, "at least you are still alive."

Because I know that these words are ridiculous, and don't validate the pain they feel.  It also doesn't validate the struggle they are enduring, and maybe this is me entering the "angry" phase of grief.

And this is where Bon Jovi comforted me, this morning while getting ready for work.  They were on the rotation for Shower Music, and I took a good look in the mirror when I heard the words "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got."

And that's exactly how I am feeling right now. I am in this because I have nothing left. And as my friend pointed out very bluntly today... "it's better than the alternative..."

And I wanted to hug her, and thank her for not sugar-coating it.  :-)


I have thought a lot about my purpose in life, about why I was sent here and what I am supposed to do before I leave. I am not saying I am getting all my affairs in order, but I do want to make my moments with people count. Heck, none of us knows when our time is over. I just got a bigger jolt of this reality.

Right now, I feel like these strange and terrible events in my life have been my "surging up in the world." Each event, both during and after the encounter, defines me. I guess I'd like to think that my grief and struggle are forming me into a tough cookie. But not too tough--when you see the world, and all of it's beauty, and wonder how many more sunrises you will see in your life, I dare you not to shed a tear.

I was talking to a student the other day about the speech she will be giving at the Awards Night, as well as at graduation. I told her about a song that came out around graduation time when I graduated high school. It was entitled, "Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen."  If you haven't heard it, it was written based on a speech to a graduating class, and it gave all the wisdom one older person wanted to share with the youth.  I have attached a clip below:

http://youtu.be/sTJ7AzBIJoI

I have always known that I wanted to teach two things to my students--first, to encourage them to take risks and go out and find things they are passionate about.  The second thing is to not be afraid to love people around you, and tell them how you feel. People are so ready to tell people negative things, and to crush dreams of those around them.  There aren't many people out there that are itching to take risks, make mistakes, and love the people around them without fear of being hurt.

After watching the video, and reminiscing of my youth, I decided I wanted to write something to my seniors (and juniors really, because they need to hear this).  These students have been with me for almost two years, and I hope they've learned SOMETHING through their time with me.  Graduating high school is quite a big deal--it's the start of opportunities, risks, and LIFE.  I kind of feel like I am sitting on the other side, thirteen years later, looking back and seeing what really mattered.

So, my project for the next week is to write my words of wisdom.  Will they listen to it all? I hope that it strikes a nerve with them, or at least that it's something they tuck away for later (to see if I was right!).  Regardless, now is the time to tell them how fantastic they are, how much possibility lies before them, and that most of the mistakes they make really won't matter in the end.

It seemed like a daunting task, but then I thought to myself:

"If I can bring Bon Jovi and Sartre together, I think I can handle this..."

:-)