“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose own way.” ~ Viktor E. Frankl.

Around 40 years ago, my first child graduated from kindergarten.  I remember being very emotional, the sight of her so serious, in cap and gown.  It had not been an easy year.  The first time they made her take a nap (she always hated to sleep, scared she would miss out on something) I had to come to the school.  She was distraught, sure they were going to make her sleep for a long, long time!  But we had made it.  Our first graduation.  This was an American event.  In the British system at that time, graduations, caps and gowns, were kept for universities only.  In high school we had an annual ‘prizegiving ceremony’ (it is different now), not even held at the end of the school year.  After nursing school we had a far more personal ‘pinning ceremony’, dressed in nurse’s uniform, not cap and gown. 

That was my first graduation ceremony, but certainly not my last.  Years later, after returning to school at the age of 50, I tortured several family members and friends by having them arrive at my graduation at the same time I was told to arrive, which was hours before the scheduled start.  As one friend told me afterwards, ‘that’s three hours of my life I’ll never get back!’ Or was it four? Anyway, I decided I had had enough of graduations at that point.  A few months later, the entire family traveled up to Tallahassee for my youngest son’s graduation, which became even more significant later on.

When you are involved in academia, graduation ceremonies become annual ceremonies, where you sit on stage, applaud appropriately, listen to the speeches, and realize, as you watch the faces of the graduates and their families, the value of what you do.  The college that I taught at for 15 years before I retired is a private one, and although there is much to be said against for-profit colleges, one thing is sure: there are many who would not get the chance at higher education if it wasn’t for the private colleges.  Older students, with families, who came from a different school system, for whom English is not a first language, they are given the chance to prove themselves.  When you are the first generation to go to College, when perhaps your parents did not even finish high school, the achievement of an Associates degree is a door opening to a brighter future, a possibility, an example to set your own children. 

Last week I was one of the guest speakers at a different kind of graduation ceremony.  This one had a live band and performances by a spoken word artist and an interpretive dancer.  The 140 graduates were entirely male, and their supportive family and friends relatively quiet (unlike the airhorns and screams that accompany some celebrations!).  My friend and school mate, who is the Director of Educational programs, had invited me, and I had thought long and hard about what I wanted to say.  The theme was ‘we are the choices we make’, and I had a few people of inspiration that I wanted to include.  Viktor Frankl was one, Maya Angelou another.  And then my friend told me that my speech should be six to eight minutes long.  Which meant I did not have long to talk.  But I prepared, nonetheless, drafting key points that I wanted to include.  I did not want to read my speech, but I also know that speaking off the cuff can lead to repetition and omission, so I had my notes.

It has been almost eight years since I had to go through the requirements of visiting a correctional institution.  Having to enter the building with nothing but your driver’s license and car keys (and in my case, my notes).  Having to go through the metal detectors and airport like conveyor belt.  Hearing the doors lock behind you.  At one point it had been a regular part of my life.  I may have written about it before, but at the time I didn’t speak much about it.  They say a person who serves a sentence does not serve it alone, the family also does the time.  Beyond my academic accomplishments and experience, my greatest qualification for being guest speaker at that particular institution (maximum security at that) was my personal connection, having been the mother of a son who achieved his greatest education through incarceration.

Before I mentioned the words of Viktor Frankl, of Maya Angelou (choose your attitude), of Shaka Senghor (inspirational author and advocate for the incarcerated, having served 19 years for murder), I spoke my own story, the experience of being a mother.  I am told that there were wet eyes among those graduates, some of whom were quite scary looking with their facial tattoos!  In my case my story has a happy ending, this month my son celebrates having been ‘out’ for as long as he was ‘in’.  I had to ask him how long it was.  At the time I could not look at the length of the sentence, or how long he had left.  It was one day at a time, one visit at a time.  We joked about the experience at the time, kept things light.  When he was moved to California, I made a trip to visit him, my first to that state.  ‘Can’t you have them transfer you to Alaska,’ I asked him.  ‘I’ve always wanted to visit Alaska!’  He is now a licensed contractor, has his own business, and has learnt more lessons than I could ever have taught him.

As I reviewed Frankl’s work, he is the Physician who spent time in Concentration Camps in World War II, I thought about his theory.  Man needs meaning, he needs to know his life has meaning.  He noted, when in the camps, that those who survived had found their ‘why’, their reason for living.  When I looked out at the sea of faces in this most special graduation ceremony, I realized that my friend has found her ‘why’.  She is helping those who are seen as hopeless, who may be treated as less than human because of the choices they have made, to become something else, to grow.  She has given them a sense of pride, of accomplishment, along with whatever lessons they are learning. 

We are a nation of second chances, and yet those who end up in these institutions, paying with their personal freedom, their human dignity, are often still treated as ‘less than’ even after they have served their sentences, done their time, paid their debts.  My personal connection to the system has helped me to be more empathetic, more compassionate.  As the saying goes, ‘There, but for the grace of God, go you or I’.  My family learned many valuable lessons from one son’s choices, for which we are grateful.

On this Friday morning, I send love to those who are separated from loved ones during this holiday season, whether by choice or not.  I hope that you have found your ‘why’, and feel good about your choices.  And remember, as Maya Angelou said: ‘If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.’

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.