graduation tender_square they stood around the concourse in their bodycon dresses and towering shoes, hair worn long beneath their mortarboard caps, at least fifteen women for every man getting diplomas, a pendulum overcorrecting half a century later. between selfies they were texting with family and friends, a whole line of students with something in common, eyes glued to phones in lieu of an opting for conversation. did they know they wouldn’t get this moment, this experience of college, back? it isn’t eden in the way that childhood is, but there is a shock to the system when the body no longer moves to the sprint of a semester, is quickly switched for the marathon of adulthood. i collected their mini-golf pencils. removed my mask to shout directions on how to arrange themselves (smaller numbers to the right, larger to the left; blue-card students on the outside line, pink-card students on the inside line). i remembered how old i felt when i finished my undergrad, and how young i actually was. the faces before me were fresh-faced teenagers with flawless and taut skin. and i felt dismissive wondering if they were old enough for dreams, for heartaches, for fears. their youth betrayed a sense of hardship, even though they pursued degrees and achieved them during a global pandemic entering it’s third year. on the floor, before the ceremony began, the dj was spun “show me love” by robin s and i wiggled in my position singing along, a song that was released before any of these graduates were born. when “pomp and circumstance” began and the processional was underway, i had chills watching the two lines descend into the arena. for a moment, jealousy overcame me; i didn’t get to walk for my degree last year, an anticlimactic ending to a journey i felt ambivalent about after finishing. family and friends hollered for their graduates even though they’d been told to hold their applause until all names were called. i played vanna white, directing students back to their seats with graceful hand gestures, pacing in place to give my feet a break. i watched the undergraduates pose for half-second photos as they left the stage, and how quickly their faces fell to frowns as they strode away, disappointment mingling with the bittersweet moment of achievement. 220429 what's it to you? who go blather from