Oh, I see you all putting on that beautiful regalia. It’s graduation season! And isn’t it lovely? *Stevie Wonder’s voice* Well, it’s lovely for most… Let me tell you about my graduation, which was about a week ago.

As I walked into my commencement with my fellow peers, they were all waving to the crowds, searching for their families, or stopping to pose for a picture from their mom, dad, auntie or whoever was shouting down “That’s my girl!” or “Yeah, cuhh!” But me, I just kept my head straight and tried my hardest not to look into the crowd, because I knew there was no one up there cheering me on.

Toward the beginning of the commencement, I had to rise with the rest of my graduating class as our university president suggested that we all stand and turn to the crowd to applaud our families who were present because they helped us get this far. I’m standing there clapping, and all I could think about was “Ugh, hurry up and say my name so I can go.”

Although I had waited forever to just get to this moment and graduate, I wasn’t even able to be present. I grew bitter and I started to feel lonely. Where the hell was everyone? After all, I did invite them months in advance. They knew the location; I even sent it in dropped-pin form in a text message along with detailed screenshots of how to get there. I got no reply, just a ‘read’ update. Then the reality of all my college years hit me at once. I was by myself, no family support, just as I had been this whole time — from the application process to the finish. I didn’t go away to college, as I wanted, I stayed home and went to my local university. There was no excuse for their absence in my mind. And compassion? Ha, I had not an ounce for them.

But then about 25 minutes into the ceremony my best friend texted me and told me she just got off of work, picked my daughter up from school and was headed to my commencement. I then remembered why I was standing there. I was there for myself and my daughter, and I couldn’t have gotten that far if it had not been for friends and strong support systems, which I had to create. As a first-generation college student, my family never understood the importance of school. I have accepted the fact that they never will.

However, this is not some ‘feel sorry for me’ post, or ‘let me find something to complain about even though I have a college degree’ post. But this is for those who are similar to me, those who have taken the alternative route (whatever that might be) and had to do so alone. Many of you will probably walk into your commencement just as I did, having reached your goals and just in the midst of relief, find yourself looking for outside approval. Don’t do it. Remember the importance of perspective and how far that has gotten you.

I left out of my commencement early and missed the confetti and all of the works, but at my black commencement (Tyehimba) — which I attended shortly after the regular ole’ university one — I was reminded that it was those who were no longer with me that influenced and helped me get to this point. I was there by way of my ancestors and, most importantly, my grandmother.

If this happens to be you on graduation day, walking in with no one in the crowds or even if you are still upset at your family for choosing not to come, remember that everything you need is already inside of you, so celebrate and keep reaching. And to university presidents and commencement speakers, be more inclusive with your speeches for once!

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Algeria Wilson

Writing since May 2016 · 1 story contributed