Letter from the Editor: Soaking in the moments of graduation and beyond

By Courtney Warren

Graduation season is heavily upon us as I write this letter from the editor. At this point, I have attended three graduations, been invited to at least five more, and watched a few on live stream. I am so proud of the many graduates that I have had the honor to teach. 

At this time, I would like to publicly apologize to Michele Carter for the cowbell. 

Now that that’s out of the way, I wanted to reflect on my favorite graduation of the season – kindergarten graduation. I had my very own graduate this year, and we had the exciting opportunity to watch her in a white cap and gown, cross the gym floor, and accept a diploma. It was wonderful! We listened to seniors address the kindergarteners and remind them to enjoy their time, we watched a video that made everyone cry, and then we took our grad out for lunch. 

During this time, I keep hearing the same phrases over and over: “Don’t blink,” “Have you started crying yet?” “Aren’t you just so sad?” 

It’s the last phrase that gets me. Because so many people say that and talk about wanting time to stand still. They talk about wanting their child to stay small forever. But that’s the phrase that reminds me of the last time I said it myself. 

I’ve talked about Charlie a few times. I was his babysitter from when he was six months old until well into his school years. I even got to go with him on his sixth-grade Washington, D.C. trip as his chaperone. His family quickly became my family, so I was present for all major holidays – especially during his early years. Now that he’s a teen, we text GIFs back and forth and argue over who was the better Spiderman (Tom Holland).  

One year, I asked those questions to his grandmother. “Are you sad? Have you cried? Do you just wish time would stop?” Her immediate answer was “No.” She explained that she wasn’t sad, by any means. Because the more birthdays she got to see, the more presents she was able to wrap. The more kitchen tables she meticulously decorated meant that was another year on earth she was spending with the little boy she loved most. She said she was soaking in the moments and appreciating every second she was given. 

Um…okay, Margie. Cue the waterworks. Since she said that, I have had a completely different perspective on major milestones in my own child’s life. We had that conversation long before Nana was born, but I remember it at every birthday celebration and every major event, including graduation. 

I’m soaking in the moment. I’m soaking in the moments with that one student that I protected throughout high school. I did my best to keep him out of trouble, even if he refused to read a single book assigned to him. I’m soaking in the moment as he walks across the stage when in the ninth grade he said he probably would not. 

I’m soaking in the moment when one of the shy ones I taught comes out of his shell and does a…dare I say…back flip after collecting his diploma. No longer shy, and prepared to take on college. 

I’m soaking in the moment as I listen to one of the most hard-working and ambitious girls I’ve ever met deliver her valedictorian speech. Remembering the many times she picked up the ball when others dropped it, when she was at the end of her rope and still gave more, and knowing that no matter what happens, she is going to continue to be the rockstar I know she is. 

I’m soaking in the moment as one of my brand-new middle schoolers is awarded for her incredible acting abilities. She shines both on stage and off in so many ways. 
I’m soaking in the moment as a majority of my students are given awards for their kindness, their courtesy, and their Christ-like hearts. What a blessing to be surrounded by such character every day. 

Finally, I’m soaking in our own family moment…where her cap and gown are white, her front tooth is missing, and her sweet little shoes are gold. She walks in and immediately looks in the stands for me, blowing kisses from her chair. I’m soaking in her requests for us to sit in the backseat beside her booster. I’m soaking in her wanting to show me drawing, after drawing, after drawing of rainbows at the lunch table. I’m soaking in the moment where she sleeps in my bed after reading a spooky story the night of her graduation because, at her next one, she’s going to want to go out with her friends. 

The words Ms. Margie told me were wise. Every moment I get means it’s more time spent with her. I can’t wait to watch her grow up, but I’m glad she’s taking her time. 
So, I’m going to give my own words of advice here - words that I’ll just tack onto Ms. Margie’s. 

In these moments, put your phone down. 

Let someone else take the photo. Let someone else take the video. 

Because those photos will sit on your phone. 

But those memories are ones you’ll want to keep.

Don’t watch them through the screen of your iPhone. Take a quick picture if you don’t have a family member that can, and then “lock-in,” as my middle schoolers say. 

Be present in those moments. Walking across the stage and accepting a diploma takes less than thirty seconds. 

How many seconds did you see in real-time? How many seconds did you watch through your phone screen? 

Soak in the moments. And remember that every one you get means more time spent with the one you love the most. 

Congratulations to all of my graduates. I am so incredibly proud of you. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish. It was an honor to have you in my classroom for a month, year, or years. I love you all. 

Do well, but more importantly, do good.