Moving On, Moving Up

Grant and Bailey graduated from Preschool on Tuesday.

For years I have heard social commentators describe the foibles of extravagance and too much praise for children in our modern world. They have described overdone preschool graduation ceremonies and overly dramatic rituals for children moving from second to third grade. Cynics are quick to suggest elaborate ceremonies for your toddler when she moves from a sippy cup to a regular plastic glass or multiple gift possibilities for your eight year old when you put away the car booster seat. I must admit that its easy for me to fall for the smug criticisms the cynics express.

But not this time. Oh yes, like every critic of the soccer mom culture I can honestly say the first graduation ceremony I ever took part in was when I finished high school and I turned out just fine. (The old, "If I didn't do it, why do they need to?') But after Tuesday I understand that that doesn't matter. It was a great night. And not so much because my five-year-olds deserve all kinds of gifts and accolades, but because the graduation was a formal chance for them (and more importantly for us parents) to come together and acknowledge that time and life is moving on.

A period of my twins' lives has come to a conclusion and a graduation ceremony in miniature is a better way to live this change out than to simply yell out "good bye" to their teachers as you drive them way on the last day of school.

I have vivid memories of three significant last days in my childhood. In 1984 my family moved from Milwaukee to Michigan. I remember to this day the smells and sights of the Madison Elementary School hallways when I knew it was my last day to be there. I was in sixth grade then, and only four months later I was saying good bye once again to my new school, Kennedy, because next year I would be in middle school. There was no graduation, but there was me and some of my new friends sitting near a jungle gym for the last time. I was very much aware that most of those friends would be going to a different school for seventh grade than I was, which lent itself to the melancholy feeling of that day. It's a feeling I have not forgotten.

I had those same feelings two years later when I completed eighth grade. Once again most of my friends would be going to a different high school and experience told me that I would never see most of them again. On the last day of school they played "I Believe the Children are our Future (Greatest Love of All)" by Whitney Houston throughout the school as we walked to our buses for the last time. That was our graduation.

Milestones are important. We should honor those occasions with caring and love. Maybe the best way to do that is with a graduation. It sure seemed to work on Tuesday. Ceremony and ritual are excellent ways to mark the passing of time within community. The cynics and grouches are wrong this time. It is better to honor than to ignore. It is better to share than to stand alone.

Even adults can benefit from connecting ritual and ceremony with important milestones. How have others been able to honor significant events and changes in your life?