Commence the commencement

We don't know about you, but we're totally stoked about graduation. You'd think that after covering them for 139 years, with not a single one disrupted by an earthquake or volcano or dinosaurs, we'd get kind of blasé. But you'd be wrong.\nPartly it's the pomp and circumstance of the thing (so to speak): the age-old traditions enacted anew -- the feeling that you're involved in something larger than yourself, that this ritual has been practiced long before any of us got here and will continue after we're gone (preferably not due to earthquakes or dinosaurs). Mortar boards and robes may look a bit goofy in everyday life -- but in donning them, you're following footsteps that go all the way back to the University's medieval origins, when the only major was "being a monk." Or "advanced being a monk," if they had a graduate school. The graduation ceremony gives professors a chance to bust out like peacocks, with hood-color displaying the type of degree they hold (for example, arts & humanities wears white) and, sometimes, colored robes to show what university they attended. Then there's the sight of that sea of new graduates flowing into Assembly Hall, the strains of a certain well-known Edward Elgar tune, the electric hum in the air...\nWhich brings us to the next reason of why we're excited: Graduation brings us together as a community in a way unlike any other event. Sure, we're united when the Hoosiers take to the basketball court or football field -- but these occasions don't really celebrate the entirety of what IU is about. What about the long hours of studying or the flashes of insight? It's easy to think that you've struggled alone -- graduation is a reminder that we've all struggled together.\nAnd then there's a big one: the fact that we're getting a glimpse of the future. The sense of hope and optimism becomes unavoidable, and we watch those we love kick open life's book and start scribbling a bold new chapter. We'll be sad to watch our friends go. Even some of our dreaded editorial board will be graduating and released from their high-security pens under Kirkwood Observatory.\nHowever, for as much we'll miss them, we can dream of the brilliant lives they'll lead -- and perhaps they'll also come back to visit.\nAnd, one last thing: with all these people leaving town, we'll finally be able to find places to park. You've gotta admit, that's pretty sweet.