Graduation Unfiltered

 

Graduation: Unfiltered, Awkwardly Intimate, and Emotionally Confusing

I was the entire graduating class. The valedictorian, the last alphabet, and the awkward kid trying not to cry while being stared at by everyone's grandma. And also no, I don't feel any different and I'm still an idiot. Just now I'm an idiot with papers!

Have you ever walked into a room and realized the event is about you? Not in a diva, "I booked the stadium" kind of way—"they set up folding chairs in the fellowship hall and your name is printed on a cupcake" sort of way.

I just graduated from a small private school. And by small, I mean I was the only one in the senior class. One cap. One gown. One lonely walk to Pomp and Circumstance while everyone tried to make it feel like this wasn't the most painfully specific rite of passage ever.

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The Good Things I Actually Liked About Graduation

1. I Was the Main Event (Literally):
No competition for "best dressed," no one else to trip on the way to the stage, and I got all the claps. If nothing else, I peaked that day. Who am I kidding? The Kindergarten graduates definitely were the main event.

2. I Gave the Valedictorian Speech:
Because who else was gonna do it? I could've read the phone book, and they'd have had to applaud. Power move. The best part is that my GPA meant nothing because I was my class's highest-scoring (and lowest-scoring) student.

3. The Personalized Attention:
Everyone in the room knew me. Some a little too well. But it also meant the celebration was real—no pity claps or fake "congrats!" from strangers. Okay,  I say that, that, but in all reality, half the people thought my name was Ashley or Melissa or knew me only as "Senior" or "Brody's Sister".

4. I Made It:

I had been waiting my entire school career to get out of it and begin the next chapter, and although that's terrifying, it's also a welcome terror. Of course, see now a new set of challenges await, but hey, "I'll deal with that when I'm older"...

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The Bad – Things No One Tells You About Being the Only Grad (or graduating in general)

1. All Eyes Were on Me. All. Of. Them.
There's no "blending in" when you're the solo graduate. Blink weird? Everyone saw. Trip? It's the headline. Cry? It's on tape. Smile too long? You look like you're glitching. I have some of the worst photos ever taken of me from this lovely day...thanks, Mallory, Breanna, Ava and Chloe.

2. Every  Question Was Personal:
There's no buffer. No deflection. Just 15 people asking if I'm going to college, getting married, or becoming a missionary (Or my favorite, "How's it feel?"...IT FEELS THE EXACT SAME AS IT DID 5 FLIPPING SECONDS AGO). Chill, Miss Carol. Africa is cool, but can I please make it out the door before you ship me off?!?! 

3. The Pressure to Be Sentimental Was REAL:
They handed me the mic like I was supposed to deliver a soul-shattering TED Talk. I just wanted to shout "I'm freeeee" and run out the side door. In fact, my original plan was to create a PowerPoint roast for the entire middle and high school, but it was not allowed. I was supposed to make people cry, laugh, and be proud of me, but also pity me. Kinda like a politician...or a preacher.

4. The Caps:

I'm sorry, but no one can pull off the stereotypical graduation cap without some adjustment. And also, can I mention, the colors of my cap and gown were YELLOW, and not even a pretty yellow, guys. Like radioactive golden urine. Yep.

Hot Takes from the Grad Life

• Even though I knew I'd see most of my classmates regularly despite school being out, I still cried. 

• When they said, "Alyssa, you may now turn your tassel," I literally said, "Which way?" because I had no idea and no one else to copy.

• Post-graduation depression hits differently when you also lose your entire class of zero people.

• I threw my cap at my teacher, getting payback or continuing a tradition...your pick.

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Can We All Agree… (Graduating Alone Edition)

• Small schools have a vibe. A weird, intimate, "we knew each other too well" vibe. Like one of the middle schoolers was able to tell me that I wore that same necklace on my first day of 9th grade, I didn't even know that.

• The ceremony playlist had more people on it than the class roll.

• Someone's toddler definitely screamed during my valedictorian speech, and honestly? Same. I was screaming too. Probably for the same reason, I was hungry, tired, wanted to change and also desperately wanted to go home.

• I still don't know if I was supposed to toss my cap… and if I did, I'd be the only one retrieving it. But I did...and it hit Mr. Richardson in the face...on purpose.

• I got a lot of cards, and every single one said something along the lines of "God has big plans for you!" which feels very threatening. What if I want small plans, or work my way up to big plans??

• I did not deserve to give the valedictorian speech, but I did it anyway because frankly, I didn't deserve to graduate either.

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The Real Talk – Why This Still Mattered

Graduating alone doesn't make the milestone smaller—it makes it weirder. More intimate. More personal. And maybe a little more powerful, because there's no hiding. You show up as you, with your whole heart on display, and say, "Yeah, I did that.".

I made it through all the awkward chapel dresses, plaid uniform skirts, Bible verse memorizations, dress codes, stick bug funerals, dump trucks, starvation rants, and locker drama of private school life—and I'm still standing. Slightly confused, yes. But stronger. And significantly more prepared to be weird in the real world.

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Final Thought

So here I am: graduated, slightly over-celebrated, and unsure what comes next. I still feel exactly the same as before, except perhaps more like a kid than ever before. But I've got Jesus, a diploma, and cake. If you think about it, that's all you need.

Till next time,
Alyssa 🦩

P.S. I see you if you also graduated from a school small enough to fit in a minivan. Let's start a club. We'll have T-shirts. And snacks.