Thomas Graduates!

Thursday Thomas had to get up at the crack of dawn to go to school ONE LAST TIME for what they call a "senior breakfast". (He said he had pancakes.) After they were sufficiently stuffed with carbs, all the graduating seniors were loaded onto a bus and carted off to the Detroit Opera House, where (combined with the graduating students from the other two IB campuses--Okma and East) the students were taught how to wear a robe, balance a silly hat on their heads, enter an auditorium in a stately manner, walk up on stage to collect the fake diploma (the real one will be mailed home after it is verified that the student actually passed all their IB exams), and then to go back to their seats in the auditorium, and THEN... to move the tassel from the right side of their hat to the left. Ta da! (Thomas's only comment was that, once confronted with the students from the other campuses, he is convinced he was sent to the wrong school as they were a lot sassier and more fun than his classmates who are, he has always lamented, a boring collection of uptight ass wads.) He got back home about 3, and then about an hour later, we piled into the car to confront rush hour traffic to drive to Detroit so that we could watch his graduation. It was absolutely madness at the Opera House. We got there exactly on time, at 6 (losing only about 20 minutes to bumper to bumper traffic) and the line of people waiting to get into the hall snaked around the block. The line moved quickly as everyone was crushing their way into the building (like we were going to see The Beatles). By the time we got in most people had already gotten seats and so we were being funneled up to the 3rd floor, as the main floor and 2nd floor were already full. The term "nose bleed seats" was coined to describe our seats. The people stuck 40 rows behind us probably had no idea they were in the right building. It was a strange ceremony. Faculty from all three campuses marched onto the stage and sat there, looking bored. The students filed into the auditorium but we couldn't see them. (Dozens of parents rushed to the balcony edge to hang over, desperate to get a glimpse of their child, and the octogenarian ushers had a helluva time pushing the angry crowd back to their seats.) It was so tedious, I was genuinely conflicted about the possibility of seeing someone fall to the floor below: sure, it would be horrific, but it would also be something to remember forever. No one fell, and the speeches went on...and on...and on. Truly (we were told) we are sitting among the best and brightest [a phrase I heard at least 12 times that night], a room of blank canvasses, geniuses, the world's future leaders and the saviors of generations to come...I now fully appreciate why, after attending this school for four years, Thomas was transformed from an eager, earnest, joyful young lad into the cynical, sneering, contemptuous outsider that he is. I certainly would have been much, much worse if I had to suffer anything like that. Ugh.

Finally, the moment every bored 3rd floor parent was waiting for, the handing out of the "diplomas". Weirdly, they did not simply organize all the kids into alphabetical order, nor did they separated the kids into the three campus groups, but instead by the school district the kid was a part of. And, since there are 10 or so school districts that contribute to the 3 campuses, they had the kids separated into the 10 districts, some of which had a hundred kids at least, some only four. Things that make you go, "Hmmm." Thomas was, it seems, part of the Huron Valley School district which had about 80 kids.

Sounds like the announcer had some doubts about how to pronounce "Cushing". I am impressed that Thomas managed to keep his little hat on so well. After the graduation, Grandma and I left Thomas on the sidewalk outside the Detroit Opera House. (It was like after a Packer game--the street was stuffed with people milling around, taking group pictures. For god's sake--they just graduated from high school--they weren't sworn in to the U.S. Supreme Court!) They were supposed to stand there, reveling, until about 11 when all the kids were to board one of three buses--rented by the school--which took them to Wonderland Lanes in in Commerce, MI.

Wonderland Lanes is a 100 lane bowling alley that the school rented (so no one but the IB kids and chaperons were there) from 11 pm to 3 am. Thomas resisted committing to going until earlier that day--thus avoiding the $65 registration fee (well done, Thomas!) when some parent organizer gave him hell during his pancake breakfast for being a wiener and not going bowling. Astonishingly, this tactic worked on Thomas so he went. Simon volunteered to pick him up at 3 (after getting lost and then successfully convincing a cop to not give him a ticket for having a broken headlight). Thomas cheerfully piled into the car, arms stacked 4 feet tall with prizes he had won for bowling*, including a $200 Keurig coffee maker**, a giant sack of coffee cups and coffee pods, a tote full of miscellaneous dorm necessities (a blanket, and various computer accessories). Indeed Thomas was so happy, he agreed to drive home and chatted happily the whole way. Perhaps our mistake has always been trying to talk to Thomas during daylight hours? Truly, the craziest graduation event I ever heard about but Thomas seemed to enjoy himself. Now, his days are filled with: getting ready for his senior recital, playing some dumb game on his computer, and gadding about from one "open house" to the next (that's the Michigander term for "graduation party"; his is scheduled for June 12th). After that, it's off to England for 3 weeks, and then, it's off to college. As Simon is fond of saying, "It's all go for Thomas!"***

*Readers may or may not realize that this is the same child who cried some years ago because he was so bad at bowling (his then school, Valley School, always had a bowling party on Halloween day) and vowed he would "NEVER BOWL AGAIN!").**Thomas was blase about the coffee maker, stating that he would have preferred the microwave.
***Not to Simon's knowledge.