I’m an expert on graduations. I’ve walked the stately procession four times for myself, thrice for each of my offspring and at least a dozen times as a faculty member. Every occasion is a celebration of the student’s amazing achievements. My heart is filled with joy for the recipients while my head is struggling to subdue profound boredom.

If you’ve been blessed by never having attended a graduation, this is what to expect. I’m basing this on the ceremony at MTSU because I know it best; however, most commencements are similar.

Graduations often happen in gymnasiums. The root of the word “gymnasium” is from the Greek word, gymos, meaning naked or nude because that was how athletes trained in Greece. A trick I use to allay boredom is to imagine that the distinguished scholars are naked under their robes (usually not a pretty image).

Before the ceremony begins there are typically rows and rows of folding chairs on the gym floor soon to be filled by a bunch of people who are wondering how they are going to survive out there in the real world.

The music for the processional has been a chart topper for a long time – “Pomp and Circumstance” by Edward Algar. The grand march is often led by faculty carrying banners proclaiming the disciplines their students have mastered. Then comes the faculty wearing their distinguished duds (fancy robes and silly hats).

Faculty regalia is decorated to represent their area of expertise. The history of wearing gowns goes back to the 12th century when academic types borrowed the concept from the clergy, who probably wore them to stay warm. My regalia has tan chevrons that are supposed to represent corn as the official color of an agricultural degree. Not even close, but nobody cares.

After everybody is in their proper place, the National Anthem is played and, finally, everyone sits and the special guests are recognized. Then the president or principal welcomes everyone and introduces a distinguished speaker.

I’ve heard a lot of commencement addresses. Many are uplifting, others thought provoking and some are deadly dull, even soporific. I have a trick for staying awake. I conceal a trashy but exciting novel in my hat that I read during the speech.

Then comes the conferring of degrees. At MTSU, each ceremony lasts two hours and they repeat it three times because there are so many receiving degrees. President Sidney A. McPhee and the Deans must sit through the ceremony each time. Seems cruel but they signed up for it.

Thankfully, the closing goes fast. The president officially confers the degrees, the graduates shift their tassels (not having any idea why), toss their mortarboards into the air and march out to the tune of “Hornpipe” by G. F. Handel — another oldie but goodie.

Then follows the scramble as friends and family search frantically to find their newly distinguished scholar. Mama, sister and brother give hugs. Daddy, happiest of all, shakes his or her hand and says, “You’re on your own now. Good Luck!”

— Gill, an Elk Valley Times columnist, is also an author. His books can be found on Amazon and other online book websites, as well as in stores in Fayetteville and Petersburg.