A Degree in Thinking
Some of the things culturally imported from the United States are nice. One of those is the graduation ceremony. Years ago in Spain, when one finished high school or college, the only thing that marked it were the official papers, mailed months or a year later. Now, graduation ceremonies are commonplace, and provide a social completion of a stage of life.
Granted, they don't come with the pomp and circumstance they're celebrated with in the U.S. There are no gowns, no mortarboards, no stadium full of people, and no band. They are merely the graduating students, the teachers or professors, and a group of friends and family. When our daughter Alex graduated from high school, it was a large group of people that overflowed the school's auditorium. But her college graduation was tiny, because in the university, graduations are held in each separate department, not in the university as a whole. Fewer than fifteen students make for small crowds.
Graduations here are merely ceremonial, however, and include everyone. In her high school class it included those who would repeat the following year, and in university, it includes those who still have a class or two leftover for next year, Alex included. Since she had too much of a course load for this year, she left a couple of classes and her end project for the next two semesters. So, she'll get two diplomas and two graduation ceremonies. But this year's was more special, because she shared it with those with whom she began her university years, and with whom she has shared complicities, laughter, and struggles.
It was an intimate ceremony, in the small auditorium of the Department of Philosophy. Some of the more loved professors were sitting at the dais, and in the back seats. The godfather and godmother of the graduating class, two professors, took the podium and addressed words of inspiration, as did the Dean. Four students, Alex included, also gave words of appreciation and encouragement. Each student received their ceremonial diploma, and then everyone went into the hall to eat, drink, and mingle. It was a proud moment when the Dean stopped at our little group, and spoke well of our daughter.
She is a daughter to be proud of. We don't agree on some subjects, such as veganism or the artificial manipulation of the Spanish language to get rid of machismos. (I contend that nature made us omnivorous for good reasons, and that change in language comes with the years, and it will come.) But she is passionate in her beliefs, and in her arguments. She defends them to the extent that her favorite expression is, "Ay, qué stress!" Above all, she believes in respect for everyone, regardless of who they are, and she can get extremely angry when she feels someone is treating others wrongly, to the point of suffering an anxiety attack and have tears streaming down her face.
She writes very well, a bit too floridly for my taste, but she expresses her surroundings and the interior life splendidly. She can also draw, especially what is in her mind's eye, which makes her better than me. Her only problem is having been born in a time when those qualities are not wanted in the job market. Yet, I feel that, some day, she will find her niche, and it will go well.
It does take courage to study Philosophy these days, because no one considers it necessary. Now, learning about life and thinking is not important. The university departments with the largest number of students are those that promise specific jobs in the future. Learning to think for oneself is problematic, however, because it might upset the apple cart if too many people learn to do so. That is why there were so few philosophers enrolled in the graduating Class of 2018. But to them will be entrusted the guardianship of our Humanity.
Granted, they don't come with the pomp and circumstance they're celebrated with in the U.S. There are no gowns, no mortarboards, no stadium full of people, and no band. They are merely the graduating students, the teachers or professors, and a group of friends and family. When our daughter Alex graduated from high school, it was a large group of people that overflowed the school's auditorium. But her college graduation was tiny, because in the university, graduations are held in each separate department, not in the university as a whole. Fewer than fifteen students make for small crowds.
Graduations here are merely ceremonial, however, and include everyone. In her high school class it included those who would repeat the following year, and in university, it includes those who still have a class or two leftover for next year, Alex included. Since she had too much of a course load for this year, she left a couple of classes and her end project for the next two semesters. So, she'll get two diplomas and two graduation ceremonies. But this year's was more special, because she shared it with those with whom she began her university years, and with whom she has shared complicities, laughter, and struggles.
It was an intimate ceremony, in the small auditorium of the Department of Philosophy. Some of the more loved professors were sitting at the dais, and in the back seats. The godfather and godmother of the graduating class, two professors, took the podium and addressed words of inspiration, as did the Dean. Four students, Alex included, also gave words of appreciation and encouragement. Each student received their ceremonial diploma, and then everyone went into the hall to eat, drink, and mingle. It was a proud moment when the Dean stopped at our little group, and spoke well of our daughter. She is a daughter to be proud of. We don't agree on some subjects, such as veganism or the artificial manipulation of the Spanish language to get rid of machismos. (I contend that nature made us omnivorous for good reasons, and that change in language comes with the years, and it will come.) But she is passionate in her beliefs, and in her arguments. She defends them to the extent that her favorite expression is, "Ay, qué stress!" Above all, she believes in respect for everyone, regardless of who they are, and she can get extremely angry when she feels someone is treating others wrongly, to the point of suffering an anxiety attack and have tears streaming down her face.
She writes very well, a bit too floridly for my taste, but she expresses her surroundings and the interior life splendidly. She can also draw, especially what is in her mind's eye, which makes her better than me. Her only problem is having been born in a time when those qualities are not wanted in the job market. Yet, I feel that, some day, she will find her niche, and it will go well.
It does take courage to study Philosophy these days, because no one considers it necessary. Now, learning about life and thinking is not important. The university departments with the largest number of students are those that promise specific jobs in the future. Learning to think for oneself is problematic, however, because it might upset the apple cart if too many people learn to do so. That is why there were so few philosophers enrolled in the graduating Class of 2018. But to them will be entrusted the guardianship of our Humanity.
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| Socrates, Political Prisoner. |
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