On Endings and Beginnings
After a bleak, rainy and cold spring, last week in Oregon was glorious: warm weather and blue skies, students out on the quad playing Spike Ball and frisbee. At the end of most semesters, it seems like students and faculty develop a kind of amnesia; the year’s challenging parts evaporate from memory, and we’re more inclined to feel generous and good-hearted. Thank you notes abound, as do hugs and well-wishes. The warm-weather energy made us all even more giddy, punch drunk by sunshine and the promise of several months without homework. Or grading, for that matter.
That sense of an ending punctuated graduation at the football stadium on Saturday. A beloved colleague, Bill Jolliff, was retiring after 40 years in higher education, and gave the commencement speech, one of the best I’ve heard. Our department won’t be the same without him, and while I didn’t always agree with Bill, he made me a better teacher, a better scholar, and a better human. Now I will be the senior department member, which is a role I’ll begrudgingly (or curmudgeonly?) play.
On Saturday, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law graduated from George Fox, summa cum laude in three years of study, a definitive ending for her. Commencement marked the end of my in parentis locus relationship for a number of students I’d enjoyed teaching. As I write in Finding our Way Forward, graduation can be a difficult time for professors who have grown fond of young people, and we say goodbye just as we are learning to know them well. This year was no different.
Except that it was different: my son, who has been on deployment since August, showed up at graduation to surprise his fiancé, and also his parents. He met me just outside the stadium as we were recessing, and I hugged him and cried as my faculty colleagues streamed around me. Benjamin orchestrated the surprise with help from campus administrators and one of my friends, and I was overwhelmed that he was there to celebrate Kelcie’s huge achievement. (George Fox featured their story on its social media page.) In a little over a month, Kelcie and Ben will be married, and we threw a wedding shower for them on Sunday, launching them toward the beginning of life together.
Today I will begin my Juniors Abroad trip to Costa Rica and Panama, alongside my faculty colleague and close friend, Jill Beals, and 21 students. In Finding our Way Forward, I write about last year’s trip, how it challenged me in all the best ways. The Tarzan Swing I described in the book isn’t on this year’s itinerary, for which I am thankful! You can follow along on our trip through Facebook or Instagram; students will be taking over the social media accounts every day, describing all the fun activities we have planned. I’m most looking forward to reading a book on the beach.
In the midst of finals week, graduation, and a wedding shower, I spoke to a book group and to a Sunday school class here in Newberg, as well as recording a webinar for the Mennonite USA CommonReads program. I will include a link in my next missive. If you are interested in having me come to your small group, your church, or your retreat, please let me know; I love these opportunities to learn alongside others!
With my grades submitted, and my bags all packed, Monday marked the liminal space between the semester’s ending and my trip’s beginning. I spent some of the day with my son, still on leave, and his fiancé, the luxury of time with them not lost on me. Sometime today, I’ll jet off to Costa Rica with 21 other young people. I’m eager to begin our journey together, even if it means saying goodbye, again, to the young people I love here at home.
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