Back porch musings

And just like that? It’s over. Done. Another academic year, 2023-2024, is in the books. A week ago, Marist College held its commencement exercises. Graduation. On the biggest front lawn you can find, they call it the Campus Green. All week leading up to the big day, there was talk of a cool rainy day. It was neither. It was warm, muggy but not oppressive. And no rain.
 
Good. Good for the Class of 2024, the majority of whom were robbed of real graduation celebrations four years ago. President Kevin Weinman invited – urged – the senior class to pop a cork and toast some champagne in front of Greystone, where he works. He noted, wryly, that these seniors had been doing just that, uninvited, all week leading up to graduation. He said this with a smile on his face. A few moments earlier, Kevin pulled out his phone – this is a college president, remember! – scanned the Class of 2024, made a video and posted it on Instagram. Amazing. Kevin created this wonderful, light-hearted, celebratory tone. Just what the Class of 2024 deserved.
 
A week prior to Marist’s graduation – two weekends ago now, already – we were up in Albany for our daughter Natalie’s commencement exercises from Siena College. Another uplifting, celebratory atmosphere, maybe more so than most years. Again, given all that this high school Class of 2020 had lost or had altered, these young men and women had every right to party hard. They had made it to the finish line, after a really ragged starting line in Fall 2020. It happens, this commencement thing, every year. This year just seemed a bit sweeter.
 
Good for them. Good for all of them.
 
As three-season sport(s) – we are constantly grinding from cross country preseason, to cross country season, blending right into indoor track season, and finally finishing up at outdoor track season. The ebb and flow of the academic year has a constant thrum to it. So, when it ends, that ending seems so much more abrupt. That’s because, we have been going since mid-August right through to mid-May, with little or no time to catch our breath, and definitely no time to stop, ponder, pause, reflect.
 
And then, poof, it’s done. Another (academic) year completed. You would think, after having been through this three-season cycle now for going on 34 years, I’d adapt to it. And yet, it’s still a shock to the system. Here on Memorial Day weekend, suddenly there’s nothing imminent on the daily calendar: No practices, no meets, no meetings, no end-of-semester awards ceremonies, they’ve all run their course.
 
Alas, the cycle does seem endless; in the next few days and weeks, we’ll be hitting the road, going to high school meets to recruit, looking for the best, brightest and fastest of what will, eventually, become the Class of 2029. The Class of 2029. Just typing those three words together, in that order, seems like science fiction. As I sit here on my back porch, ceiling fan whirring on a gently warm late spring evening, dogs lounging around and begging for food, it’s a time to reflect upon what transpired and to plan for what’s to come.
 
Another year over, and a new one about to begin. No, this is not a holiday tune, but rather the reality of where we’re at on these long days of daylight. It goes by so fast, doesn’t it? Alums with whom I remain in touch are reminding me that they had their commencement 10 years ago, almost to the day. A decade is a long time, but it can whiz by as you prepare for the next incoming class, the next season, the next wave of emails and visits for the next incoming classes. It seems to never end.
 
But for now, for this one moment in time, we’re stopping that spinning globe for a few paragraphs of reflection. These cycles are all special in their own way. And, as a result, they should be acknowledged as such. Thank you.