Conceive, believe, achieve

Before you all start worrying that I have turned into some sort of feel-good guru, no worries, I haven't. I'm still the same cantankerous cynic I was before yesterday's commencement, in fact, it's possible that the commencement speaker who left us with th message in the title of the blog left me even a little more world-weary and sarcastic than before.

For those of you who have never had the wondrous privilege of attending a university commencement, let me enlighten you. First, it's very very very long. It's so long that faculty will sneak snacks into event, and eat them while pretending to read the commencement program. Second, except for that moment where they name your son or daughter, it's only slightly min-numbingly boring. Unless of course your darling offpsring attends a really fancy college, and your speaker is someone who actually knows how to entertain a crowd, like the current US president or a famous comedian. And third, it gets very hokey. Admittedly, that may just be my opinion because I've sat through so many at this point, and may not apply to those of you who may only attend one or two commencements in your lifetime, all of which feature yourself or your child, thus representing not only thousands of dollars you've invested over the years, but also the achievement of someone you really love. So for you, the singing of the school song, the playing of Pomp and Circumstance, the pledging of allegiance, the announcing of the graduates, the moving of the tassles, the well-meant words about "hope", "achievements", "pride", and "future" could actually hold some meaning beyond wondering how long it will be until you are dismissed. And finally, it's really warm. Well, actually, that may also only apply to those of us wearing thick doctoral robes, so once again, you may not suffer from that specific issue. Either way, commencements are long and possibly boring.

Now my first commencement at my current university was awesome. This can be attributed to two reasons: Kat and the speaker. Kat was an English professor at our school who happened to be sitting next to me, and who pretty much shared my outlook on just about everything going on at the commencement. We apprently laughed and giggled so much that the school camera operator, who was on a little podium a few feet away from us, told me later he could hardly get a good shot of the faculty, since we were always in stitches. The speaker, however, also helped a great deal. You should know that the school always tries to bring in someone who can bring a positive message to our graduates, but that because of our limited budget, that person is usually not as famous or as philanthropic as they would like him or her to be. That first year, the school brought in a gentleman who had done a great deal for children in impoverished neighborhoods through the finding of schools, or something equally wonderful. Although his message was not any more meaningful than the drivel in the title of this blog, he truly captured the entire faculty, and probably the entire audience's attention when he announced that he and his husband recently adopted a child. You could just hear the collective intake of breath, the frowning, and quiet prayers for the man's soul. As I've said before, we may be a public school, but we are as much part of the bible belt as anyone else living down here, and thus being gay is simply not considered possible. It's an imaginary condition made up by those yankees. Or something. So we thought his coming out like that was amazing, just the amount of kick needed to lift the commencement from alright to plain cool. Although he received only a meagre applause from the graduates and the visiting parents and family members, the majority of the faculty gave the man a thunderous standing ovation. So yes, that speaker was enough to keep the faculty buzzing for at least a year, with the majority of the speculation centering on whether the administration had known about his orientation prior to hiring him.

The speakers during following commencements have all been less than memorable. Their messages are no more than cookie-cutter plattitudes, which are all supposed to help our graduates believe that no matter what they do, as long as they believe, they'll be fine, or something equally ridiculous. So when Kat left the university during the semester following that first commencement, and the next speaker was incredibly dull, I started to do what a lot of faculty do: I snuck a book into the event. I mean, why else would manufacturers create robes with such enormous sleeves complete with tight cuffs if not to hide and keep a pocketbook up one's sleeve?

But then last week, the entire faculty received an email about commencement. It containted the usual marching line, but also included the remark, "Please note that proper head attire is required, and reading materials are not permitted, as this is a solemn occasion." Now I'm a rebel, but when it comes to ignored a direct rule, I'm as chicken as the next person. So this year, I did not bring a book with me. And thus was forced to listen to the commencement speaker. And his message was so incredibly meaningful, so very true, I had to share it with you. Please make sure you're sitting down, as this is really too much to take in standing up.

If you want to do something, be someone, get somewhere, all you have to do is 1) conceive it, i.e., think of it, 2) believe in it, and 3) you'll achieve it. Yes. That's all it takes. Don't worry about planning, having back-up plans, or working your butt off. Just believe. Talk about seeing four years of expensive education go down the drain. You didn't need to read all those books! Just Conceive and Believe!
So here's my plan. I really want a pool, right? Well, I've conceived of that idea, obviously, so now all I need to do is really believe it, and then one day I'll wake up, and boom, my pool will be right there in the backyard.
I can't wait.