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Rant & Rave
GRADUATING from college in the year 2000 was disappointingly anti-climactic, reminding me a lot of Y2K. There were no tear-jerking Kodak moments or earth-shattering epiphanies. What I remember is the fear that I would ruin this once-in-a-lifetime experience by tripping and falling on stage in front of hundreds of strangers and my family and friends. Graduating into
world of uncertaintyI spent several years, longer than my parents had planned, in school. I thought my college years would never end. Yet, there I was on June 10, sitting with several English majors in Eugene, Ore., waiting for the ceremonies to begin.
Meanwhile, I listened to the guy sitting to my left ramble about the different ways he could make a fool of himself on stage. "What if I trip on the stairs and fall down in front of everybody? What if they don't pronounce my name right?"
If I hadn't been so nervous myself, I might have laughed. I ended up trying to reassure him while my own nerves were shot. Graduating from a mainland college meant that worrying about the speaker pronouncing your name correctly was a valid concern.
Suddenly, one of the English professors told us to rise for our moment. As I approached the stairs carefully, making sure not to fall, another worry entered my head. Prior to the ceremonies, the undergraduate English advisor had told us to remember to "take (the certificate cover) with your left, shake with your right."
This phrase became ingrained in my head and consequently was the only thing I remembered. I did not hear my name called, correctly or incorrectly; I did not hear the audience clapping, nor did I see my professor reaching out his hand for a congratulatory shake. Everything happened in less than a minute, and the moment was gone forever.
RETURNING home to Oahu as a college graduate has been even more disappointing. For the first time, I had no idea what I was going to do. In college, I always had a paper, a midterm or a project to give me direction and focus. The shock of graduating was not knowing what would come next.
I forgot my purpose for attending college, which was to eventually get a job. Job hunting in Hawaii has been an interesting experience. I fall somewhere between the over- and under-qualified. For example, a position at a fast-food restaurant sours somewhat in the light of a new college degree. Yet, having two to four years of related work experience would be unrealistic for someone like me.
I've also learned that while attending college is a definite privilege, in today's world it does not make you unique or special. I see it as being one hungry fish in a gigantic unemployed pool.
At home, my eyes were open to the changes that had occurred around me since I had left. Every morning, I feel as if I have stepped into the "Twilight Zone." Everyone I knew from high school has changed. Friends are working full-time, or are having babies. Everyone became an adult and they know where they are going.
Here I was with a degree but without a clue, although all my friends feel my English degree qualifies me to be one thing, a teacher.
It has been three weeks now since I have been home. I have done a lot of thinking and reflecting with my ample free time. Older friends and acquaintances always told me how lucky I was to still be in school. I smiled and listened while inside I believed they were crazy. Here's a sick little secret that I learned as a college grad: they were right.
Brandi-Ann Tanaka is a graduate of the University of Oregon. Rant & Rave is a Tuesday Star-Bulletin feature
allowing those 12 to 22 to serve up fresh perspectives.
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