The School Saga The Finale: Graduation

The end is near. In 12 hours, I will wake up much like Princess Anna of Arendelle on Coronation Day and it will begin. The day three years of work has led up to. The day that will be documented and printed on every single family member’s wall for the rest of my life. The day I graduate from the University of Birmingham.

I thought I’d do this one in true ‘The School Saga’ fashion and write as I think. it’s Monday night, I have spent my last two hours ChatGPTing and googling orders of businesses on days like tomorrow. I have spent the rest of the day before that waiting for a call that never came through (fuming, but like professionally). My alarms are set, I am as prepared as I will ever be, I am so not excited.

Okay, I’m not not excited. I am excited for the bit where I get to see how silly I look in the garb and catch up with my tutors in person for the last time (love you Abi) and pretend I am in Gilmore Girls. However, I am dreading the rest of it. The embarrassment of the ceremony, the fact I’m wearing clothes I REALLY am not comfortable in, the unknown of what happens after we leave the Great Hall (yes, UoB is that bitch). I feel like I’m going to be spending half of the day in search of my parents or my friends. What if my head is still too small for the cap and it sits funny on my glasses. What if I do actually trip up the stairs. What if I can’t find anybody and I miss the celebrations or I’m so flustered I forget to pick up my certificate. All incredibly unlikely, all still very possible.

The ceremony starts at 3pm, which is great because after I finish writing this bit I can read for a while and still not have to go to bed too early. It also means I have about 5 hours to learn to walk in my wedged sandals (I’m a converse girlie, the flatter the better). I don’t think it’s even going to be the heel that trips me up, it’s going to be the bloody ankle strap that feels like it’s tethering my foot to the floor. I am not looking forward to the part of adulthood where I have to dress up for events, put me in jeans, a band tee and some trainers any day. Even worse is if I do fall, it’s being livestreamed, but at least my brother can watch it back as a source of entertainment I suppose.

Right, that’s it from me tonight. I’m going to read and hope Mr. Caller doesn’t want to try and talk business with me while I sleep. I’ll be back either tomorrow night or Wednesday depending on how hammered and/or depressed I get.

Happy Wednesday! My feet are bruised; I am a little bit sunburnt but my soul is happy. I mentioned in my last post that the whole degree results thing was all just a little bit numbing. It didn’t seem like there was much of a fuss to be made or much to celebrate. I thought that graduation was going to be a constant state of overwhelm, where I’d be a little bit frightened and a little bit disappointed and a whole lot of nothing. I knew I’d have to fake it for the sake of the occasion but I was almost certain I’d be home by 6pm in tears.

In the end, I actually had a really really lovely day. There were moments where I stopped and I faltered but it was mostly down to the unknown. To start, I managed to curl my hair and do my makeup without throwing a tantrum (my hair likes to refuse the straighteners at the worst times). I also didn’t instantly fall into self-consciousness when I put my dress on. Actually, the more I look at photos of the day the more I start to think that I have peaked. I don’t think I will ever look as cool as I did in that cap and gown.

For all of you wondering, no I did not fall up the stairs. Or down the stairs. I actually handled the stairs very professionally. However, when you’re stood waiting for your name to be called you do have a split second where you entirely forget how to function as a human being. You can see the stairs and the chancellor and the rest of the world becomes non-existent in that moment. But I didn’t fumble, I didn’t offer the wrong hand in a handshake, I didn’t forget which direction to walk. All was well and now forever immortalised on YouTube.

I spoke to a lot of people yesterday; I was very lucky to have run into all of my close friends and have a proper conversation with them. I had the chance to see even more people I know and congratulate them. It’s very weird to think that for many, all I will see of them now is Instagram posts and LinkedIn announcements, and for others I have no chance of getting rid of them (Sorry David, love you xox). Even crazier still, the excitement of the day sparked conversations with people I haven’t heard from in years, all of us swept up in congratulations, momentarily putting aside any tensions of why we no longer speak.

If I were to share my highest high and lowest low of the day, it would look something like this:

The Low – Approximately 10 minutes after the ceremony, I got a milkshake. It was Biscoff and it cost my mum £6 (rip off). The straw was in upside down, you know the straws that have the slanted bottom for drinks with bits, that was at the top. Impossible to drink out of. So, I flipped it around and splattered milk all over my scroll and my hand. I didn’t even drink the shake, as soon as I tasted it, I had regrets. I was sticky and pissed off.

The High – Besides Redbrick, getting to know my lecturers has been the highlight of my degree. I was lucky enough to get the kindest, most supportive personal tutor. She has been an absolute rock through my time at university; she was also my dissertation supervisor. Needless to say, without her, I would have been a mess. Abi and Martine (another one of my tutors, they were the two that have been with us and taught us consistently across the 3 years) were the heroes of DMC and I, like the rest of the cohort, adored them. I’d run into Martine briefly during the Biscoff fiasco, but I was lucky enough to catch them together just before my parents and I headed off. We stood and talked about the day, how proud I should be, excitement about the next steps. It was the closest I got to crying, and it was the moment where it all sunk in that this is it now. Education is over, I am leaving behind so many people who have been such a vital part in the becoming of the person I am. I am hard on myself at the best of times, not because my parents are not proud of me because they do have pride in abundance, but as these two hugely successful, hugely iconic women told me how proud they were of me when they owed me absolutely nothing, it sunk in then. I have done good.

I will miss university truly. I hope that one day I can be the inspiration for new DMC students that with a little bit of courage and motivation, you can do whatever the fuck you want. I am officially immortalised on two of my school’s walls doing the things I have always loved (there’s a huge picture of me manning a camera in my secondary school, and now my journalism achievements are up for all to see in the university), so I hope that I can continue to make an impact and I really hope that people don’t look at it and think ‘what a loser’.

The day ended back with my two best friends in Wagamama, gutted to have left before the true celebration began with a dead phone and no money. But still as I climbed into bed, absolutely thrilled to be free of my shoes, I was extraordinarily content.

The beginning of the rest of my life starts now. I have just over 3 weeks before I start my new job. I am so thankful the job hunt was short and sweet. I do worry that I have gone 22 years without much rejection in my professional life though, that one day its going to severely bite me in the arse. I don’t think I am completely done with education, there is a high chance that one day I will return to university to do my Masters. But for now, goodbye Birmingham, hello real life.