IMR: Entries: 2001: August: 13 — Monday, August 13, 2001

Walked Out You know, the UH alma mater has never, ever sounded so sweet.     Graduates and families part ways. Caps and gowns are everywhere. Lining up for that special march. Entering the Stan Sherrif Arena. Fellow grads giggle and get comfy. Waiting through the inspiring speeches. Kin and cameras in the stands. Leaving, diploma holders in hand. Families reunite on Cooke Field. I had it up to here with leis. My grad lunch at the Queen K hotel. Cousin Mark, grandma O. and dad. Uncle Paul, his wife, and grandson Tayler. English mavens Mara and Mitchell. Ruth and her beau Will. My boss, Bob, and his wife Yuko. Katie and cousin Kayla. Dick and his great big lens. I've heard it dozens of times, though perhaps not since the volleyball championships in 1996. It's like every other alma mater, full of 'thee' and 'thy' and sweeping imagery. But while my mood throughout the graduation ceremony ranged — to be honest — mostly from boredom to bemused, I have to admit feeling a little shiver in my spine when it was sung. "In green Manoa Valley our Alma Mater stands, where mountain winds and showers refresh her fertile lands..." It really was different, somehow. Was the melody always that haunting? Did it always have that hint of sadness? I had to put aside my cynicism for a moment and just enjoy the cheese and cliché. I didn't know if I would ever have a similar opportunity again. So yeah. I'm a college graduate. A University of Hawai`i alumni. (Let the fundraising phone calls begin!) A guy long known for B.S., finally with a certified B.A. Of course the world isn't all that different on this side of the ivory tower, and I didn't expect it to be. Tomorrow Katie goes to school, Jen and I go to work, and life goes on. I just feel more... settled. (I think that's a good thing.) I'm still hurtling down the highway, but now I've got a spare tire in the trunk. (I'm just not in a hurry to test it with an unexpected flat.) Okay, my metaphors suck. It's not that late, but I'm surprisingly beat. We got up this morning at about 8 a.m., and less than 20 minutes later, we were out the door. I kept one hand on my 3-by-5 name card in my pocket, and my other hand carried my cap and gown, shoved into a yellow plastic Star Market grocery bag. We followed the signs and the line of lei vendors down to the lower campus, and I parked in an end stall on the ground floor of the Zone 20 parking garage (oh, the memories). Then I led Jen to the shady corner where she and Katie would wait to meet mom, Todd and Heidi, and I headed off to the Stan Sherriff Center loading dock. There I just stood around for another 20 minutes, watching the sea of black robes and tasseled hats slowly grow and "purify" as happy parents, girlfriends and even kids finished taking their pictures and ran off to grab seats inside. Not surprisingly, I didn't recognize anyone... save Ben Diones, one of the students in the storytelling class I dropped in June. So I just hung back and hummed to myself as the line formed and, eventually, graduates started shuffling into the arena. I got the silly notion to try and be the very last guy, but sadly, so did a handful of others, and in the end I gave up and marched in myself. It was a strange transition, from standing outside in the sun with everyone joking around to filing into the cool, quiet arena to the strains of Pomp and Circumstance. There were no rehearsals, there was no one telling us what to do or what was going to happen... one minute I'm standing next to a smelly delivery truck, the next minute I'm taking my seat while a stage full of VIPs and 1,500 or so guests look on. I was amused to find that in my half-empty, back row alone, the full range of a graduate's moods was represented. The girl on the end was crying. The guy to my left was stoic and serious. And the gal on my right — Leeane Payongayong Santos, according to her little card — immediately kicked off her shoes, put her bare feet on the chair in front of her, and proceeded to talk to her family in the stands with one of those Nextel phone-slash-walkie-talkies. Bibeep! "Where are you?" Boop. "Up in {garbled garbled}... see us?" Bibeep! "Where?" I represented the slightly confused graduate. I just sat, stood, and clapped when I was supposed to, and wondered most of the time if my shirt collar was supposed to be visible. I also found a few more familar names in the program. Marlene Mattos, who helped hold down the fort at Ka Leo many years ago, getting her BBA. James (Jim) Tor Wigdel, getting his MBA. Terrence Quinsaat (from my IP273D class), Stella Torres, Malia Pickering (UH-Hilo?), Darrin Jitchaku... And even Mio Higashimoto, although she decided not to walk, and under "Candidates for Honors," none other than Christy M.J. Wong. (And there was my name, between Ikuko Ouchi and Brandon Lopaka Panee.) After Regent Ah Quon McElrath gave a mild downer of a "Welcome Message," CBA Dean David McClain gave the Commencement Address. It was pretty good, actually, and included the requisite Stanley Kubrick reference. (He also gave out his e-mail address if anyone needed help getting a job.) Then new UH President gave his Charge to the Graduates, and — finally — it was time for the Presentation of Undergraduate Candidates. There were about 400 of us in the Bachelors Degree section, and of course I was fifth from last. As I worked my way to the stage, mom, Jen, Katie, Todd and Heidi waved from the stands. Next thing I knew, I was heading up the little ramp. I went after Ms. Santos, unfortunately, and although the name reader (VP Doris M. Ching) navigated it successfully, her tempo was off, and she stumbled over my name. I'm not sure who I was, but I think it was something like Ron, and my middle names didn't fare all that much better. My family knew who I was, though, and I got a wonderful cheer. I strode across the stage, got my diploma (holder), and was prepping myself for the handshake-and-photo moment, when suddenly Dean McClain stood up from his chair and thrust out his hand first. "Congratulations," he said. I was stunned and confused and probably gurgled at him. I then rushed to shake Dobelle's hand and off the stage. I nearly tripped over a Honolulu Advertiser photographer trying to get an artsy shot from the floor. The Masters and Doctorate students were next — Doctors of Philosophy, specifically, and they got their thesis titles read in addition to their names. Fun stuff like "Orthocharmonium Decays to Axialvector Plus Pseudoscalar Mesons," and fluffy stuff like, "Struggling Subjectivities: Academic Literacy and the Postcolonial Predicament." (Not a single "Pedagogy" — William would be disappointed.) Somewhere in there we switched our tassels, and then we stood for the alma mater, and I actually found myself thinking it was very nice. Then the Recessional, for which I was suddenly in front, and on the way out I got to say a proper thank you to Dean McClain. The next thing I knew, I was standing and distractedly bouncing on the Astroturf-esque surface of the football practice field. I looked at my diploma (holder), then went over to give Marlene a hug. Then I spotted my family, and they all came at me so that I didn't know who to hug first. The leis were piled up to my ears, and while I was hot, I happily wore them. I figured the next time there would be that many flowers collected just for me would be at my funeral. I took pictures with every possible combination of relative, feeling somewhat like a cardboard cutout Elvis. Then, this nearly bald guy with a seriously thick philosopher's beard walked up with a giant pink inner tube. Really! It was Mitchell. Jen and I were ecstatic. Mitchell, cool Mitchell from Hilo, now of Hawaii Baptist Academy. He congratulated me, then tried to put the pink inner tube on my head. "I don't even know, really, the deal," he said. "But this is what kids are doing at graduations these days." On the tube was written inspirational notes like, "The Ten-Year Plan Works - Ask Me How!" And, "I [barely] Graduated Before My Daughter!" If that wasn't enough, he then handed to me an envelope filled with clips from Ke Kalahea, including some single-panel comics I probably should never have drawn. Soon enough it was time to head off to the Queen Kapiolani Hotel for my barely-planned graduation lunch. I probably could have picked a better day, or at least location, for the gathering, for as it turned out, Sunday at noon was also when the city held its famous Brunch on the Beach, when they shut down Kalakaua Avenue to turn it into a giant outdoor cafe and sell gourmet food on the cheap. Suffice it to say, traffic was bad, and parking was scarce. After we found a spot in the zoo parking lot, we headed across to the hotel, and just barely figured out how to get to the Garden Lanai. The sunday brunch crowd was huge, and there were a couple of other big parties going on. We finally found our corner, outside by the pool, and discovered the setup short by half a dozen seats. Despite the parking and bizarre hotel design, folks started showing up, including people who were smart enough to avoid the crunch at the arena. In addition to folks from both sides of the family — a rarity, and a pleasant experience — I was blessed with the presence of Richard "Under the Stars" Walker, Ruth Shiroma (my first journalism mentor from 1993) and her beau Will (a math teacher at Punahou), the magnificent Mara... my boss and his wife came, too, and coworker Steve even breezed through to shake my hand and lei me. It wasn't long before people were squeezing into corners and onto ends of tables, and the restaurant was too busy at first to set up any more space. But my guests were good sports. I was very, very unfamiliar with being the guest of honor at a social event, and clumsily made the rounds, introducing folks and catching up. I'm sure someone didn't get introduced, and more than a few people had no idea who this woman or that kid was, but fortunately there were no riots or anything. Of course I barely ate two bites of the apparently diverse buffet, and the shave ice my mom got for me was a cup of red syrup by the time I got to it. Katie was happy to see three the assorted kids in the family at once — Trevor, Alyssa, and Kayla. They ran around, with parents taking turns making sure they didn't jump into the pool. After much food, folks and fun, people started trickling out, so after stammering out a stupid thank you speech, we started to wrap things up. I finally sat down to catch my breath, and had a very enjoyable conversation with Richard, Ruth, Will and Mitchell. Hairlessness was discussed, as was globalization and rampaging elephants. I think my favorite quote of the afternoon came from Mitchell: "There's a time and place for a naked breast." And with that, we headed home. It was great having everyone together, seeing family and old friends, finally, after "too many moons" had passed. I felt exhausted, but great. Really great. A kind of radiant but subtle euphoria. And I realized that's the feeling people had in mind when they ask, "So how does it feel?" But there's no good way to describe it. Now. About Jen's biology degree...

Comments My god, you finally did it! Congratulations on getting lei'd (finally!!!), man. Jai and I are all like proud and stuff. (goofy grin) -N —Lusus "Very Happy" Naturae (August 13, 2001 3:04 PM) Oh my. That's soooo deja vu. And to think I did the same walk, oh, _four_ and 3/4 years ago? Like I said before, it's about f--king time. —NemesisVex (August 14, 2001 3:29 AM) Ryan! Congrats! As someone who is about to go back and finally finish the rest of her credits as well, I raise my glass to you! It takes some guts ... Slainte! —Erin (August 19, 2001 8:48 AM) Congrats! You really DID mean it when you said you were on the 10-year plan! All the best, EIC-y. It's all uphill from here! —Kim F (August 19, 2001 8:51 PM) Hi Ryan! I was going to say hi to you at the grad ceremony, but I was kinda chicken that you probably wouldn't have recognized me. (Though I did recognize Jen and Katie, though, and waved to them.) But anyway... we made it, brah! Congratulations and see ya in the real world! :) :) —Stella (August 20, 2001 11:40 AM) Hi Ryan! I was going to say hi to you at the grad ceremony, but I was kinda chicken that you probably wouldn't have recognized me. (Though I did recognize Jen and Katie, though, and waved to them.) But anyway... we made it, brah! Congratulations and see ya in the real world! :) :) —Stella (August 20, 2001 11:41 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < August 12 · August · August 25 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008