Yesterday my last two Honors students of the semester here at Curry College presented their findings to a jam-packed auditorium, and did exceptionally well. In fact not only did they surprise all of us by the quality of their work, I think they surprised themselves that they were so effective. Each stood in the spotlight, presenting material and answering searching questions, for nearly fifty minutes. I mean - I knew the whole cohort would be good; but they all turned out even better than anticipated.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. The previous two weeks had also been superb. I think what made this day even more memorable was that it was so close to the end of the semester, close to graduation - and that added a double poignancy that perhaps I’d disguised for myself.
For two years, now, these projects have been going forward, changing, reshaping, refining, and definitely going through metamorphoses. Many of these students have been in my other classes for the past four years, too, and I’ve watched their confidence and competence grow. My colleagues and I have been useful to them, and we’ve grown to love these people as they’ve discovered their inner power. We’ve had a role in helping to guide and direct what they do.
And now, quite fittingly, they no longer need us. We’ve done our part of the job and because we’ve done it well we, the professors, are obsolete. That’s part of our task. How do I explain it? Like Spring, I find myself waiting for it through the bleakness of each winter, and then it comes and suddenly it’s all happening at once, and I look again and see my own springtime is long gone. Springtime humbles us as we grow older; while Fall comforts us with its message that all must fade, and that there’s no disgrace in that.
I like to think I help to empower others. It’s a task that helps me feel useful in the world. It also means that, come graduation, I wave goodbye to yet another part of myself. I’m relieved that I’ve been of some use, perhaps, and sad that these wonderful people, who have just now claimed their full astonishing selfhood, are leaving and will be their own people. This is their Springtime, and it doesn’t include the likes of me.
And that’s the way it has to be.
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