Why My Teachers Hate Me

How to Graduate

The Graduation

My graduation took place on Friday. It was a day full of tears, memories, the smell of tan and the gathering of family, some of whom travelled from different countries, as their babies lined up in the barely recognisable, spruced-up sports hall, all dolled up in their brand new suits or dresses.

                Looking around, it was hard to believe that we were all once standing in that very hall at one point or another, participating in our very first school assembly, lost in our stiff, oversized new uniforms, crippled with the plethora of books on our backs and terrified of the unknown situations and uncertainties we were about to face. And the teachers. We were definitely afraid of the teachers.

                And yet, despite feeling smaller than ever as the sixth years looked down on us, each one of us believed we had the world at our feet and anything was possible as long as we could imagine it. We could be doctors if we felt like it. Or ballerinas. Or astronauts. Or scientists. Or philosophers. It didn’t matter that we had no idea what those jobs actually meant or entailed; we liked the sound of them and that was enough. CAO forms and points meant nothing to us we thought of them like taxes, mortgages and elections, they were for grown-ups and had nothing to do with us, we placed them in a box labelled ‘Future Me’.

But there we were, suddenly – and horrendously – aware of the terrifying reality that is approaching so very quickly. I would like to repeat myself here: there were tears in abundance.

On Wednesday, my nephew graduated from his secondary school, a few hours away from us. For my parents, this was perfect. They arrived in Ireland that morning, attended and made the three hour drive up to my flat the next morning were they stayed until Saturday for mine.

Joining my parents at my graduation, was my nana and Jim (my mother’s parents) and my gran (dads mum), four of my brothers (although one had to be there ‘cause he’s a teacher), one of my sister-in-laws and my boyfriend. My family took up an entire row. We were the only family to take up an entire row.

The ceremony was really beautiful. Some teachers made speeches, some presented special awards for students (surprisingly, despite my many detentions and that suspension, I didn’t get one). Our Head Boy and Girl each made a speech, the art students painted a huge mural that incorporated memories of the last six years and the music class acted as the choir and band as we played songs that stuck to the theme of our graduation: Memories.

As part of the band, I played the cello and piano depending on the song. My favourite part of being in the band was getting to choose two of the songs we played, ‘Sing’ by My Chemical Romance, and ‘Times Like These’ by Foo Fighters. ‘Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)’ by Green Day, was another song we picked.

By the time the ceremony was over tears had ruined the make-up of many while everyone seemed to be glued to at least one person as hugs were handed out like jellies.

I may not like everyone in my school, but I can honestly say I’ve never had a night as good as that one. Everyone put aside their differences and we all went out together, having booked out a small club not far from the school.

On Friday myself, P.J, Freddie, Gareth, Colin, Jessie and SOB finished school, and I feel a little sad and scared as I think about how much my life is currently changing.