Friday already!

Hi everyone! Did you enjoy having a little break from me yesterday?  I really should consider the amount of effort you lot put into reading my frequent, rambling narratives.

Yesterday was graduation day for my School. I went to two ceremonies because I work in two departments, and couldn't miss seeing all my students. As always, one of the games to play while sitting on the stage is to put names to faces: there are a surprising number who manage to get through a whole degree without ever speaking to their teachers! It's also great to match supporters with students, and admire the incredible lengths taken to dress up. Your teachers look like scruffy herberts in comparison! This year was all about the shoes: there seemed to be a height competition going on.

Graduation is one of those occasions which gives me an opportunity to see the university in the round: students from lots of different courses all together. The Hegemon's national and ethnic diversity is readily apparent, and the high quality of our awards. For instance, the English cohort managed five first-class degrees between them, an amazing achievement (about 8% of the intake). They're kosher too: every university course is scrutinised by academics from other institutions to make sure we're operating at the same level. Our current examiner is from Cardiff's brilliant English department, so our own graduates should know that they're up to the same standards.

The First-Class graduates this year are also special because they really representative of our intake: 3, possibly 4 of them are mature students who also look after children and have jobs. Similarly, I was particularly proud of Jana, who took the media prize for a dissertation which was not only of publishable quality in terms of research, but was written in beautiful, elegant English - her second language. Away from the top grades too were so many students whose degree was a triumph over circumstances, academic problems, health setbacks, a lack of confidence or traumatic experiences.

This year was also excellent because much more effort had been put into the day: a reception afterwards for everybody, shorter, sharper speeches (the two by SU officials were absolutely excellent: one personal and emotional, one political and pointed, and the same goes for the Vice-Chancellor's very deliberate praise for our international students) and a real sense of occasion. I also particularly appreciated the procession of staff: the embarrassment of parading through town in silly costumes was balanced by getting to the wine reception before the students and guests. We're a thirsty lot, so perhaps the authorities might rethink that element….

Talking of which, this year's graduation was a success in that I survived the post-match celebrations in a state no worse than exhaustion. Last year I was kidnapped by a determined bunch of graduates and rendered into a condition which can only be described as 'hog-whimpering', from which state I needed two full days to recover.

So that's all the fun over. I spent this morning at the Staff Wellbeing and Moral Task and Finish Group Workgroup 3 meeting, which was exactly as much fun as it sounds. Admin this afternoon, and maybe even a bit of academic work! The highlight of the weekend though is Mahler's Resurrection Symphony at Birmingham's Symphony Hall. Hopefully I won't end up sitting next to a Nazi this time - at Mahler's 8th, a pompous man informed me that if I liked it, I should listen to Bruckner: 'like the Fuhrer after dinner every day'.

Graduation is upon us once more

Hi everyone. Amidst all the political and social gloom, The Hegemon starts a week of graduation ceremonies today. No, I don't know why we do it in September either. It's all very lovely though: hundreds of people dressed up to the nines beaming proudly. Being a widening participation institution, graduation's even more special than at the élite places: so many of our students are returners, or the first people in their families every to get to university, or have struggled against the odds to get here. It's also a much more diverse crowd than many universities, so the week's festivities highlight what I think is important about what we do: social mobility in action. I know that our non-white students, and our working-class students are far less likely to reach the top of their professions than their posh white counterparts, but we're doing our bit.

If you leave your office, you're guaranteed to find yourself press-ganged into taking photos for people and randomly congratulating graduates. I love it, actually. I manage not to mention the jobs market or any of the other clouds hanging over these people's lives, now more than ever. Just for a day, our graduates deserve to bask in their own achievements. It's great to be reminded of how much optimism is still out there. I was always a worrier - I worried about passing my degree, then about getting a job, then about passing the next degree and worried a lot about passing the one after that. I'm not, you may have gathered, a person who finds it easy just to relax and luxuriate in achievement, so I find it (albeit temporarily) uplifting to spend time with uncomplicatedly happy people.

That's why I encourage my students to go to their graduation ceremonies even if they think it's cheesy or silly, or the institution is compromised by dubious links: there will be very few days in the rest of their lives in which they're wholeheartedly praised for their achievements. Don't miss out on one of them because you're too busy/cool/shy or whatever. Don't be all 'yeah it's just for the parents' and blasé about it. Leave being cool for tomorrow. I went to all of mine - the parents were quite bored by the end and were quite relieved when I excused them from the PGCE ceremony, mostly because I didn't rate the course myself. But the others were definitely worth coping with the flummery and formality. Even if one of my friends (or so I thought) announced in public that I didn't deserve my degree. Embarrassment all round that time…

Graduation mirrors my thoughts about being a student in general. For most people, post-graduation life will involve a lot of tedium and misery. You may well find yourself in an unfulfilling job coping with pompous or simply non-simpatico people, if you get a job at all. As a student, you're asked to read and think about things which (in theory) you're already enthusiastic about. The hours are good, you can take risks and go off in different directions, you'll meet a wider section of society than you grew up in, you can re-shape your personality, appearance and beliefs, and all the world's knowledge is at your finger-tips. The main activities involve arguing about ideas with similarly passionate people. In short, it's brilliant. Work, on the whole, is rubbish. Even my glamorous job has its tedious elements! Whereas being a student is roughly three years of just thinking about stuff. You'll miss it when you leave…

One more thing. Female graduates: like your male colleagues, you all look great. But tell me: when did we as a species, decide that footwear no longer had to be shaped like, well, feet?

The final depressing word to freshly-minted graduates

Here's an extract from Arthur Sulzberger's graduation address to students at the State University of New York, in 2006.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You weren't supposed to be graduating into a world where we are still fighting for fundamental human rights, whether it's the rights of immigrants to start a new life, or the rights of gays to marry, or the rights of women to choose. You weren't supposed to be graduating into a world where oil still drove policy and environmentalists still have to fight relentlessly for every gain. You weren't but you are. And for that, I'm sorry. 

Still, lessons from history, eh? It's so much better now. I mean yes, we're in the depths of the worse recession since 1929. And OK, Japan is a sea of radioactivity. It's true that we're ruled by  a cabal of hereditary multimillionaires who've dismantled welfare, healthcare and higher education in under a year, but at least we've all got iPhones. Right? Right!

(The quotation is from Brooke Gladstone's The Influencing Machine, illustrated by Josh Neufeld).

Lessons from literature

Well, that's one graduation ceremony down, one to go. It's really sad seeing these students go: this particular year group has been funny, intelligent, likeable and challenging, and I'll miss them. Not all of them of course: watching the plagiarists and gadabouts cross the stage in cap and gown, scot free, is particularly galling. But they're a tiny proportion. I've said goodbye to so many students today - many of them going to do prestigious MA courses elsewhere.

We sent them on their way with a series of speeches. I've no idea what the content was, because they were delivered - with the exception of the SU woman and the honorary doctorate recipient - with all the inspirations joie de vivre of a catatonic bingo caller or the concierge in a Soviet bread queue. Such a shame.

The loss leads me to listen to some George Crumb:

On your way, kids

So. Graduation today. Usually, it's a time for scrubbed, shiny kids to celebrate their entry into adult life and work. Not this year though. Thanks to their elders and betters, the smiles have been wiped off their despicable young faces. My friends, it's a great time to be a misanthropist.

My first graduation was quite fun, and I think it's important, in the midst of all the drudgery, for students to be simply congratulated for their achievements. For me, the bloom was slightly taken off by a supposed friend, in front of all our parents, telling me that I didn't deserve mine: we'd both spent three years plotting and scheming working hard at the students' union. I took a First, she took a Third. Privately, I rather agreed with her, but for the first and last time in my life, I decided to trust to the wisdom of authority.

Enjoy your day: for most of you, graduation marks the end of the only period in your lives when you had the chance to take some intellectual risks and splash about in the pool of knowledge without pressure to earn or impress.

Time to get my robes on. Imagine a pair of heavily brocaded 1980s Laura Ashley curtains in maroon and yellow. Draw those curtains over a short, porky git. What a lovely mental picture.

Graduate employment news

It's not all doom and gloom: one in four lap dancers has a degree. The class and subject may not even be important. So forget that dutiful PGCE and get down to Spearmint Hippo NOW! Except for you, Ewar.

Valete!

I've just come back from the second graduation ceremony of the day and I'm happy and sad, which is weird. Threading my way through the queues for fast food and nasty pubs on the way to the theatre where we award the degrees, I realised that I'll really miss this particular bunch of students - some were bright, some were funny, some were troubled but they all made it worth coming to work. Two of them were former housemates of mine - I like to think that the books they nicked from me got them through their degrees. That, and being very strategic: one of them, half French and half Spanish, took a degree in… French and Spanish language! And didn't get a 1st Class degree!

I know that the year behind them contains many more gems, and a new intake starts in a couple of weeks, but I really liked this lot. Lots of people slag off the new generation of students - including me, a lot of the time - but it's at times like this, when you see them with their parents, partners, children, dressed up to the nines, you have to stop seeing them as a mass and understand what a huge achievement it is for most of them.

Anyway, enough sentiment. Time to crack open the whisky.

More presents

I just got back from the first graduation ceremony to find one of my favourite students waiting with a bottle of fine whisky.

I hope this is a trend which continues!

Off to another ceremony. I'm very glad I brought a book for the eternal monologues.

One down, more to go

Right. One meeting with unhappy and downtrodden colleague completed. Now off to collect my silly gown, hood and hat. Imagine a Laura Ashley brocade pair of curtains, complete with pelmet, in burgundy and primrose. I do enjoy the sense of occasion though, even though I stormed across stage while collecting my PhD like a shoplifter pursued by police.

I've often wondered if there's a correlation between the peacock display of the gowns and the prestigious nature of the institution: as far as I can see, élite ones have very plain robes, whereas we toilers in the educational basements get grand and elaborate designs.

See some here. Don't these two look resplendent?

The onslaught begins

Hello all. Busy day today. Firstly a meeting with a union colleague, then a negotiating committee meeting. Then a graduation ceremony, then a meeting about teaching, then another graduation. Then, if there's time, several beers to wash away the previous activities. So you might not hear much from me.

Graduation's a weird one. It's hot, sticky and uncomfortable sitting on the stage in full academic regalia, listening to the same speeches as previous years (yes, that's true), but it's also thrilling to see our students leave, utterly changed in a mere three (or so) years. Of course we nudge each other when those with - shall we say - patchier records get through, but you can't help but be overcome with the emotions of graduates, parents and friends at one of the biggest formal events of their lives. After this - off you go into bright, and sometimes not so bright futures. Some of you will have everything sorted out, but others won't, and I'm not surprised, given the terrible state of the economy.

If it's any consolation, I didn't have the remotest clue what I'd do. A vague idea of being a schoolteacher crossed my mind, because that's what everyone with an English degree thinks. I'd probably still be unemployed if a tutor hadn't suggested an MA. Don't rush into something just to pay the bills - if money problems are looming, do some agency work rather than commit to something hateful. Cynical Ben's a good model for this. He's done some hard, tedious, low-paid jobs in his time as he looked for something fulfilling: for him, work is what keeps him fed while he writes.

Don't be too cool to enjoy your graduation - you'll find that you don't get much gratitude and respect for your achievements in future, so soak it up today.

Mischief managed

Well, that's graduation done. Decent speech from the Students' Union vice-president, worthy ones from the worthies. The honorary degree went to Sathnam Sanghera, who despite his day job with the Murdoch press, wrote an excellent memoir of growing up in Sikh Wolverhampton, Love, Secrets and Lies in Wolverhampton, and gave a great little acceptance speech. Other highlights were a card from Christine, and seeing the engraved Pen Anna-Maria gave to William. He's a Baudrillard expert and she's spent the summer at Disneyland, so the pen quoted JB: 'Disneyland is paradise…' - the other half of the quote speaks of 'toxic excrement'.

I felt a little less like Laura Ashley curtains circa 1986 this evening, after a student pointed out that our robes are in Gryffindor colours. Now to the pub to accept libations from survivors (or graduates, as they're technically called).

PS. I almost forgot. According to the platform speeches, Wolverhampton is the greatest university in the world, with a bright future. And not a place which is sacking 250 employees (management exempt), cutting degrees and modules, reducing student workload, increasing surviving staff's workload and increasing class sizes at all! How wrong I've been.

Valete, graduands

That's one graduation ceremony down. It's always a mixture of sweat, pride, laughter and astonishment - it's hot, there's a real thrill in seeing some of the students getting through and/or doing well, there are always amusing interjections from the crowd, and there's always the chance to put a face to the names of students whose attendance was not always, shall we say, 100%. Meeting the parents is always fun too. Nobody's asked for a refund on their fees yet, though when I got my PhD, some of the media/cultural studies students asked if I had any qualification in their field at all. The answer, of course, is no. However, they passed, so can't complain! The speeches are always very dull, especially from those who use the same one year on year. Frank Skinner's getting an honorary PhD though!

Almost time for a pre-match drink before the second go.