The day of someone who's a Department Chair and a Marshall is a long one, especially when one has to get to campus at 6.30 a.m. to make sure of a parking space, and one's department is scheduled for the afternoon ceremony. Being a Marshall seems to involve tapping students into line with a small mace - or at least waving it gently in their direction. One of my great-grandfathers worked for the railway police, and had a smart wooden truncheon: I felt that I was channeling his genes.
It was also a grey and faintly damp day, rendered inspiring, though, by the emphasis of so many of the speakers on diversity, inclusion, community service and engagement, and so on - much less pompous that previous years, and the Valedictorian, in particular, was superb in her passionate commitment and her ideals. But, but - it was long, even if mercifully not hot.
And what parent hires a plane to fly a banner past, with the student's name, and the - presumably jokey? - admonition: Now Get A Job.
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