raycolon.com / Writing / Graduation Day

Graduation Day

"You should go back to school and get your degree." Throughout my twenties and halfway through my thirties I was often given this advice, but for one reason or another, I did not heed it. That's not to say, that I didn't attempt to go to college.

At nineteen, I went directly to college from high school. My enrollment lasted 1/2 semester, primarily due to my preoccupation with two things -- coeds and foosball. I had an insatiable appetite for both, which left little time for study. So out of touch with the realities of the world was I, that I was actually surprised when the assistant dean informed me of my dismissal.

Five years later, I again enrolled in college. A mature man of twenty-four, I felt I was ready to devote myself to earning my degree. My first class was an economics course taught by a former policeman. My professor's meandering tales of life on the beat drove me to distraction. My youthful impertinence led me to voice my opinion in what, I realize now, were undiplomatic tones. Needless to say, I did not succeed in that course.

Despite my abbreviated stints at school, my career was progressing apace, and I put off school for four more years. Upon turning twenty-nine, I knew it was time to get serious. I enrolled in a third school and registered for two classes -- Accounting and English. I attended each session without fail, completed all of my assignments on time, and kept my opinions about the professor's banter to myself. I was on my way, I thought, until what I have since come to refer to as "The Terrible Accounting Incident."

The first half of the semester had gone by smoothly, and I braved snowy roads on a Saturday morning to sit for my Accounting midterm. After arriving, I sipped coffee to remove the chill and settled in for what I believed would be a routine exam. I wasn't the type of person who was afraid of examinations. I had scored well on exams throughout high school and always seemed to do well on standardized tests, but for reasons I still cannot explain, this midterm would have a decidedly different result. I was seated in a desk near the front of a large lecture hall and watched as the test papers were passed along the long row, student to student, until I had my examination in hand. I opened the test booklet and browsed the entire exam as was my habit. As I flipped from one page to the next, the realization that I had no idea what the answers to these questions were set in. I struggled with the exam for two hours, and went home dejected. How could I have been so unprepared for a first year accounting exam? That was it! I was through with school. Receiving the grade in the mail was anticlimactic, as I had already decided to drop the class. I continued with the English class and did well, but I did not register for the subsequent semester.

One would think that I had learned my lesson, but at thirty-five, I decided to give it one more try. Was I a glutton for punishment, or did I just not have enough sense to know when to throw in the towel? My reasons for returning to school on this occasion were twofold -- I had become a father, and I began to notice that applicants to positions for which I was doing the hiring all had their degrees. With all of the corporate restructuring that was taking place, I felt that if my number were ever to be called, I would be ill prepared to apply for positions in my current salary range. So it seems that fear -- of being a good example to my child, and of future employment prospects -- turned out to be the appropriate motivation this time around. While holding my full time job, I completed my degree program in four years, earned a 3.3 GPA, and received my bachelor degree in business at the ripe old age of thirty-nine.

The commencement ceremony took place on a sunny October day, with my family in attendance. The look of pride on their faces was all I needed to see to know that the struggle was well worth it.

So if you're contemplating doing something which you have not had success with in the past, take heart from my story and give your dream another try, or two, or three.