As the parent of a graduating senior in high school, it seems like the past month or so has been a blur of award ceremonies, banquets, rallies, and student/parent meetings. I don’t think I have had a free night in two weeks. Instead, every evening is dedicated to the Academic Award Ceremony, the Spring Band Concert and Award Ceremony, the Scholarship Foundation Banquet, and so many others that I could list, but I don’t want to completely fill up the available space on my computer’s hard drive.
When did all these “ceremonies” get started? And does absolutely everybody have to get some kind of notice or recognition? Are we concerned that somebody won’t get a crappy plastic trophy and from that moment forward their life will be ruined?
Last week, I attended the high school’s Academic Achievement Awards with my youngest daughter, EM2. Just to give you some background, the night before this event the school had a banquet to honor the Senior students that had finished in the top 10 positions academically. Now, I myself am not a whiz at logical puzzles, but I do know that if the school has already recognized its top 10, then the “Academic Achievements” that remain to be acknowledged are probably nothing I want to get too excited about.
I was correct to be skeptical.
The evening basically consisted of running through the names of students that had managed to finish their high school careers with a 2.0 GPA or higher. For those that don’t want to do the math, that’s a C average (emphasis on “average”). I spent an entire evening in an uncomfortable, metal, folding chair so I could hear my kid’s name mentioned somewhere in a crowd of 257 others. No, wait … excuse me. It was 258. Apparently, there was a tie for 153rd place.
Why does the school do this? I don’t know. I’ve never watched an Academy Awards show and had to sit through an extra two hours because: “In addition to our top 5 nominations for Best Picture, here is a list of two-hundred movies that we thought were just okay this year!”
When I graduated from high school (yes, I’m going to play the old man card here) there was the class valedictorian, and then there was … everybody else. There was no ongoing list of students in ascending order of suck. The only recognition anyone else received for their academic performance was a little piece of paper known as a diploma. In fact, that piece of paper was the whole point of going to high school in the first place. We were just happy we had managed to hold our shit together for four years without stabbing anyone. Graduating was enough for most of us without sending us into a black spiral of depression because we didn’t get an extra pat on the back.
And if our grades and SAT scores were good, the only acknowledgement we wanted for that accomplishment was an acceptance letter from one of the colleges we applied for.
No plaque necessary.
Not only do I think the number of ceremonies these days is ridiculous, but I also have serious concerns about some of the specific awards that are handed out. Model Student Award? Really? I mean, do we really need to recognize the kid that reminded the teacher when they forgot to hand out homework at the end of class? Does a certificate ease the sting of the severe beatings he took in the bathroom from the other students after the bell rang?
If the school is going to make up reasons to give out trophies, can’t they at least make the award titles a little more interesting? For example, in my daughter’s school band they could hand out the “Most Surprising Musician” award for that kid that nobody knew what the hell notes he was going to play next. Or how about the “Sociopath Prize,” given out by the school faculty in hopes that the recipient might stop breaking out car windows in the staff parking lot. That is an award ceremony that I would definitely want to attend.
But, no. The schools seem determined to make these evening events as long and as dry as humanly possible. And along with the seemingly interminable list of students crossing the podium and shaking hands with people they spent the rest of the year actively avoiding, with each name, there is a teacher making a “short” speech about why this student was selected for this particular accolade. After the first two hours, all those speeches began to sound the same. “This student made it a pleasure for me to come to work every day …” Blah. Blah. Blah. I think it would have been a little closer to the truth if the presenter had simply said, I could tolerate this kid, while the rest of those little bastards made me want to cry into a whiskey bottle before cutting my wrists.
EM2 received a few awards this year. I don’t remember for what. I think I fell asleep right before they announced her name. I did see the trophies when she got them home, however. They looked suspiciously like the Participation Trophy I got when I was twelve-years old and my little league baseball team finished dead last in our division. Mostly because of me, but we don’t need to drag up those painful memories right now. We can dive through that dumpster of shame some other time.
For now, it is enough to celebrate my daughter and her many accomplishments. So to her I say, way to go, Sweetheart! Congratulations on winning Best … um, … Most … uh….
Whatever.