There aren't many lovely things about having a convocation in the midst of a global pandemic. One of such rare things, however, is that more than half a year since our technical graduation, I return with more stories to share and a stronger sense of longing for the time that has passed in school.
The convocation for NTU English's Class of 2020 took place last Friday, 5 March. We were made to sit at least three seats away from one another and ensure that we did not open our masks at any time. It was slightly strange, but honestly, what isn't at this time?
What's also strange, yet intriguing and bittersweet to realise, is how the convocation ceremony allowed me to feel that sense of closure I had not felt, even after 9 months since I submitted my capstone final thesis. In this 9 months, whenever I wanted to write about my NTU journey, whenever I tried to talk about my time, I perceived the school as though I was still a student there. It was strange. I knew I had graduated and heck, I was even one of the extremely fortunate who started work in July, a month after graduation. Technically, I should have already moved on, but internally I was confused. Who knew that an official convocation could resolve that, even if one only walked across a stage to receive an empty board?
I suppose that's why traditional norms and ceremonies exist. People purport that they are merely tradition, and it is the journey that counts more than anything else, and I agree, but I also think that these ceremonies lend individuals and communities the beloved elements of triumph, closure, beginnings, celebration, and more. Kind of like birthdays, right? We live all our lives and it's usually the other days that make the most sense. Yet, no matter how we celebrate (or not celebrate) our birthdays, such days are when we reflect a lot about our age, what has passed, what will come, and the eventual end we humans must face. Birthdays may just only be a tradition, but they still lend the important elements, and that's why a lot of people celebrate it.
I think a lot about the traditional milestone ceremonies that I have missed due to the pandemic. I've talked about my wedding before, but there are others, too. Of course, I am ultimately at peace. But the thoughts come back to me once in a while, especially when others ask whether I do plan to hold belated ceremonies.
If anything, missing these milestones, and coming back to them, no matter how long the time has passed since the ripe moment, made me realise how important tradition is. I used to partially scoff at these celebrations, I used to think they don't matter. But though I still stand by the fact that journeys hold more weight than any destination, the milestones make us realise how far we've come, and that will always carry value and importance.
Thankful to have had my convocation last Friday. It was muted, but beautiful, in all the ways it can be.
The convocation for NTU English's Class of 2020 took place last Friday, 5 March. We were made to sit at least three seats away from one another and ensure that we did not open our masks at any time. It was slightly strange, but honestly, what isn't at this time?
What's also strange, yet intriguing and bittersweet to realise, is how the convocation ceremony allowed me to feel that sense of closure I had not felt, even after 9 months since I submitted my capstone final thesis. In this 9 months, whenever I wanted to write about my NTU journey, whenever I tried to talk about my time, I perceived the school as though I was still a student there. It was strange. I knew I had graduated and heck, I was even one of the extremely fortunate who started work in July, a month after graduation. Technically, I should have already moved on, but internally I was confused. Who knew that an official convocation could resolve that, even if one only walked across a stage to receive an empty board?
I suppose that's why traditional norms and ceremonies exist. People purport that they are merely tradition, and it is the journey that counts more than anything else, and I agree, but I also think that these ceremonies lend individuals and communities the beloved elements of triumph, closure, beginnings, celebration, and more. Kind of like birthdays, right? We live all our lives and it's usually the other days that make the most sense. Yet, no matter how we celebrate (or not celebrate) our birthdays, such days are when we reflect a lot about our age, what has passed, what will come, and the eventual end we humans must face. Birthdays may just only be a tradition, but they still lend the important elements, and that's why a lot of people celebrate it.
I think a lot about the traditional milestone ceremonies that I have missed due to the pandemic. I've talked about my wedding before, but there are others, too. Of course, I am ultimately at peace. But the thoughts come back to me once in a while, especially when others ask whether I do plan to hold belated ceremonies.
If anything, missing these milestones, and coming back to them, no matter how long the time has passed since the ripe moment, made me realise how important tradition is. I used to partially scoff at these celebrations, I used to think they don't matter. But though I still stand by the fact that journeys hold more weight than any destination, the milestones make us realise how far we've come, and that will always carry value and importance.
Thankful to have had my convocation last Friday. It was muted, but beautiful, in all the ways it can be.
