Graduation Day

Anne Hogg

It was a warm afternoon and this was the moment I had promised myself. I stood on the lawn and watched everyone milling, rushing, giggling and standing around me, and I savoured it. I'm sure I must have looked like an extra from a Harry Potter film; one of the more eccentric teachers rather than a pupil - but I didn't care; I felt fantastic. The last six years of my life began to flash in segments through my mind in time line fashion. Some say that when your life flashes before your eyes death is imminent but in my case they couldn't be further from the truth. I was very much alive; although, I have to admit that, at that particular moment, I was a bit scared. Well, maybe not scared; nervous would probably be more accurate. But, it was a nervousness I was quite happy and comfortable with because today was the day I had been working so hard towards for what seemed like a lifetime. All the hard work had been done and it had paid off. Today was the day I was graduating from the University of Glasgow with a 2:1 Joint Honours degree in English Literature and History of Art.

It had all started with a chance conversation with a friend I hadn't spoken to for a while. 'So, what are you up to these days?' she asked. 'Not much, you know how it is.' I replied. And it was true - I wasn't doing anything much; the kids were galloping away at a pace and I was in serious danger of being left behind. I was beginning to languish in the place I call my 'comfy rut'. This is the place I sometimes find myself in when life is just tiddling along, and every day just bleeds into the next, and nothing happens, and it gets difficult to decipher Tuesday from Sunday, and it's comfy and totally unchallenging and, well, boring, very boring indeed. 'You should join our group at the business centre' she said 'we're doing a wee course - it's called a Pre Access course; you know, studying and writing essays and stuff,' 'What kind of stuff do you study?' I asked. I was quite interested by now. 'Oh' she said, 'English Literature, Psychology, Philosophy, that kind of stuff, it keeps the brain working. The next session's on Tuesday, you should come along.' 'Mmm, maybe I will,' I said.

I was a bit apprehensive but I went along. It felt strange being spoken to by a lecturer. However, it turned out the 'lecturer' was an ordinary woman who had done the same course a few years earlier and as such understood our concerns about going back into some sort of study after such a long absence. The sessions were really interesting and to my astonishment I was enjoying it. Writing essays and discussing English Literature texts seemed to come quite easily to me and I found myself looking forward to the class each week. In my naivety I hadn't thought about the prefix 'Pre' in the title of the course and hadn't considered that when the course ended it naturally led onto an Access course which, in turn could lead onto University, if I got good enough grades. As the time went on I grew more and more determined and I found myself studying hard. I was going to go to Uni. It didn't matter to me that I was twenty five years late, I was going to go!

And, here I was, standing on the lawn in one of the quadrangles of Glasgow University, gazing up at the spires and thinking, 'I did it. I actually did it!!'

My reverie was broken by a tug on my gown and I heard an excited voice saying, 'Hi there. How are you? I am so excited.' It was my friend Wendy. We had met on our first day when all the new students were gathered in one of the large lecture halls. I suppose it's natural when faced with a roomful of strangers that you naturally look around for people similar to yourself. This is exactly what I was doing, while at the same time thinking that I had a driving licence which was older than most of the youngsters around me, when I heard a voice to my far right saying, 'Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?' I turned around to see a very friendly face, smiling at me. Somehow, through my tied tongue, I managed to make myself understood, 'No no, please, sit down.' The smiley girl who was at least a quarter of a century younger than me, sat down and before I knew we were chatting and sharing our anxieties. Four years later, here we were, still good friends. 'Look who I've found,' she said. There stood Janette and Jaqueline - the remainder of the group who had made my time at uni a fantastic experience and who had done a huge amount of confidence boosting when I was struggling to remember what the confidence word meant! They were also fellow mature students - although we much preferred the term 'immature student' as it was so much closer to the truth.

After much excited cuddling, babbling and admiration of each other's gowns we made our way into the hall. If I felt a bit overwhelmed standing in the leafy quadrangle then the sight of the magnificent Bute Hall made me tingle all over. Quickly scanning the audience in the balcony over looking the hall I eventually found who I was looking for - the people who had supported me, unconditionally, throughout the last four years - my family. Our eyes met and it seemed like a competition as to who could give the most waves, thumbs ups and smiles. Of course, the day I got married and the births of the two kids have got to be three of the most amazing days I've lived through but today was different. My family were here being part of the experience and this was a day we could all share.