You’re Wrong

The heat of simmering racial injustice inflamed by videos of police brutality boiled over into the streets of America’s cities and onto television screens worldwide.  Some marches degenerated into riots, looting, and property damage while a peaceful gathering in Washington, D.C. was forcibly moved to provide a photo opportunity for the president in front of a local church.  Closer to home the Covid-19 pandemic continued to bring about a reevaluation of the role of government in our lives and how to strike a balance between economic viability and public health. NASCAR banned the Confederate Flag at its events while the State of N.C. shut down a local speedway, prompting further Facebook debate as to the difference between freedoms and rights.  So much low hanging fruit for someone who loves critiquing politics and societal changes.  Too much, it seems, because if you think that is what I have chosen to tackle there is bad news.  You’re wrong.  All of those issues are worthy and I will get to each of them in time but at this point my soul is crying out for the opportunity to share some observations of other sorts.

Last week I had the extreme privilege of calling out the names of Triton High School’s graduating seniors over the course of four days worth of individual commencement ceremonies.  In an attempt to make the best of a bad situation, Harnett County Schools opted for this format to allow the maximum number of family members and friends to witness first hand the culmination of years of hard work by our students.  It was far from traditional as students weren’t able to share the experience with their classmates but it did allow for a greater number of guests to be in attendance.  This being the South and it being June the first two days were hotter than the hinges of Hell but with humidity. Add to that the bonus that one of the brief puffs of a breeze on Wednesday was enough to topple both of the tents providing us shade at which point I merely bent down, covered my head, and kept repeating, “I’m ducking, I’m ducking, I’m ducking”.  Luckily my Principal and coworkers were able to wrangle them under control and although my pride was a little damaged the “money maker” escaped unscathed.  And if you were one of the dozens of people who “blessed my heart” or said “that must have been miserable” guess what?  You’re wrong.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with and speak to every single graduate from the Class of 2020.  I would not have had the opportunity to see them interact with their families or to bear witness as those families were finally able to cut loose in full throated appreciation of a job well done.  I would have never been able to see a special needs student quietly take the principal’s hand and be led to the spot where they could start a walk that while only a few feet in reality stood for years of effort on the part of their families and teachers.  And I would not have been only feet away from two children that I love dearly as their excellence was acknowledged in front of their adoring support systems.  Because of these unfortunate times I was able to see first hand the first steps of just over three hundred individual journeys into the unknown as these young people go out into the world to hopefully make it a better place than they found it.  My heart was blessed indeed.  

These last few months have reinforced my belief that you normally see what you are looking for and, as David Foster Wallace said, the conscious act of choosing is the greatest gift given to humans.  Remember that flying tent that I told you about?  When it left the ground it flipped straight over the backdrop and onto the stage, where it wiped out plants and columns but, thankfully, no people since we were between graduates.  The one thing that did not get knocked down, however, were three white roses in three vases which stood beside the podium for all four days of graduation.  These roses were placed in remembrance of three young men who should have graduated with the Class of 2020 but whose lives were cut short by tragedy.  After all of the names of the individual graduates were called the families of these young men were able to come one at a time to see them honored, to release balloons, to cry, and to remind me why I am so very blessed.  You might think not being able to have a traditional graduation was the worst possible outcome but…