The Boy By The Railing

"...The most important moments are rarely center stage; they most often happen 'in the wings'. Have you found that to be true, too? That what you expected to be the big occasion of the main event turned out to be merely an excuse for you to be somewhere in order to be touched by something you might have otherwise considered of little importance?"
Fred Rogers, Life's Journey's p. 137

My wife teaches at a small junior highschool in Delphi. This is some distance from our house, and she travels it almost everyday. Before summer started I went with her to attend her students' graduation ceremony. I'm glad I made the trip.

Graduation night was extravant. The music was hard to dismiss. The choreography was precise. The food was high-profile. The only aspect I found distasteful was the valedictorian speech, which I found full of words that no human eighth grader should ever speak.

The valedictorian was a short, black young man named Andrew. He was dressed entirely in white (but his basketball shoes were black and white). My wife, Elizabeth informed me that he had put more work into his studies than all the other students combined. The auditorium was full of praise for the young man.

After the ceremony the people began to mix. Graduations - like most of the events at her school - were social affairs. The parents were glad for their children, but for most it seemed to be the exact time for posturing ... insincere compliments ... and lots of networking.

I walked outside the auditorium to get some space. Outside I saw the valedictorian holding a large trophy. I was about to pretend I didn't see him, but he addressed me suddenly saying, "I worked so hard for this night, but you know what? I hardly feel like it means anything!"