Day 277 (College)

Yesterday the class of 2011 graduated from Washington University in St. Louis. The ceremonies’ headliner was Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor and human rights activist, who gave a speech with the title “Memory and Ethics.” The Friday was cloudy and cool at first, but over the course of the speeches the sun came out and graced graduates and onlookers alike, at least for a while. At the end of the ceremony, some former students threw their hats in exaltation. Others held on to them as keepsakes.

Today, the classless line either side of two desks arranged in the center of an apartment. They flip small paper cups that barely approximate Solo. Some are from the United States and do it with nonchalance and practice, despite the difference in the cups’ dimensions. Some are from Spain and England and are befuddled at first, though they soon perfect the technique. The floor is clean white tile and the living space is respectably sized. Near the end of the ceremony, a single cop arrives.

Day 275 (Latticework)

Commencement is nearly here. The graduates prepare their caps and gowns. They wish they had made dinner reservations further in advance. They get bombed on Natural Light. They hug their parents who are proud of their tired eyes. They have bad dreams about sleeping through ceremonies, about being denied their degrees, about sudden nakedness beneath the regal green and black polyester. They pray for sun.

In a country a few of the soon-to-be graduates call home, a graduate hikes his way up terraces of mud packed against tree roots. The rope tied between trees helps on the way up. Today, he happens to walk under the guidance of a SLU graduate. He thinks of Holmes Lounge for the first time in a year. He thinks of WILD for the first time in a year. The images in his head are vibrant. These things were real, he thinks. They were not formative years but years. My god.

To his left the roots of a series of trees form a lattice over the side of an enormous boulder. They are like a ladder to complement the rope that aids him on the right. They have taken over the boulder but not crushed it. The strands of roots seem to have connected somehow. Offshoots grow through offshoots. Their tan dryness is nearly uniform. The spaces between them make diamonds and triangles and squares.