There’s a lot that should be worrying me right now. People around the world are grieving losses of friends and family to a virus. Many others worry about losing jobs and homes and new layers of financial difficulty. Others are suffering from severe mental health challenges in an incredibly isolating time. I should be contemplating the reality of the very uncertain world into which I’m graduating. But, no, none of that has sunk in. My central worry has been this: What about graduation? Not the actual diploma that I’m assuming somebody will mail me, but the processional and the cap and gown and the tent in the middle of campus. 

This feels like the silliest thing to be distressed over—and in some ways, I’m right to feel ridiculous worrying about this. Perspective is important. My losses—the loss of the final wisps of senior year and a big ceremony—hardly make the list of our global woes. 

And yet, this is the worry that feels most manageable right now. So I decided to reckon with it. 

In her latest email update, President Susan Schultz Huxman announced to our community that two things will happen to help seniors close out their time at EMU. “We are exploring ways to celebrate your accomplishments in an online platform on May 3 and are hoping to announce an in-person EMU graduation during the 2020-21 academic year,” she wrote in her campus-wide email on March 23. 

I read this email and was flooded with an indescribable relief. It was a reminder that faculty and staff are working hard to address the needs of many students, and that they have recognized the value of holding spaces in which we can bring years of work and play and relationships to a proper close. I felt recognized and comforted despite the relative smallness of my worries.

In the following days, a survey went out to seniors. This one had a slightly different tone; it asked graduating seniors to rate the likelihood that they would a.) attend a virtual graduation in May and/or b.) attend a more informal gathering during homecoming. 

The questions this survey posed stopped me short. Although I knew graduation wouldn’t be everybody together in May, the thought of no real ceremony closing a formative chunk of time was hard to contemplate. I wished that there was a different option. 

While the virtual graduation is undoubtedly an attempt to include everybody in a graduation-like ceremony, I had to wonder about the students for whom bandwidth is a challenge. I also felt the pain of an attempted closure that would come just close enough to a real ending without actually being one. The idea of something smaller in the fall—perhaps just a moment to recognize what was a whirlwind ending—feels closer to what we all envisioned, but hardly seems like a full ending. 

As of this writing, it is important to clarify that no decisions have been made regarding a plan for this class’s graduation.

I actually love the idea of an October graduation. It’s the month in which I have the fondest college memories: hikes and bonfires, Halloween and concerts and long, lingering dinners with some of my dearest friends. Adding a full graduation to those memories feels fitting. 

I’ve seen my own classmates and friends at other universities voicing their own concerns about graduation through the medium of Instagram stories and Facebook posts. They, like me, are stunned at the thought of no formal closing of college. They wonder if they’ll have the chance to say goodbye to beloved professors and friends and celebrate the end of an era.

I recognize that it is unreasonable to demand an in-person graduation just as I’d pictured it. I imagine that this pandemic will leave universities like EMU even more constrained financially than they were before this. I know that those charged with logistics are recognizing the needs of more people than a handful of seniors. Perhaps my vision of a fall graduation is a ridiculous longshot. I know it’s not the only thing many have to consider. 

Above all of this, though, I am left with a lingering sense of gratitude. Despite my questions and worries, I believe that we are being cared for. In the past few weeks, I have watched EMU’s faculty and staff attempt to hold a multitude of fears and needs with a characteristic generosity and patience. This, I believe, is one of the defining things that I will miss when I leave this place for good.