As the organist played “Pomp and Circumstance,” Jim Hill High School’s class of 2010 marched single-filed onto the Mississippi Coliseum floor. I was so nervous. Sleep deprived, but cautious enough not to stumble in my new 5-inch stilettos. My shoulders were weighed down by colored cords and medallions symbolizing the process and progress of the past four years of my high school career.
As I approached the stage, I realized that day wasn’t just for me. It was for my grandmother who had passed two years prior. She was my biggest fan. It was for my father who served as president of the Jackson Public School Board. He didn’t only want the best future for me, but every child. It was for my mother, an educator for 30 years. She sacrificed late nights helping me perfect project boards and argumentative speeches.
Graduation was more than a ceremony of passage; it was a celebration of completion for my family and me. If it had not been for them, I wouldn’t have made it.
Family members of Senatobia High School graduates share similar sentiments, but on May 21, four people who cheered for their loved ones received warrants for arrest for disturbing the peace.
An aunt, Ursula Miller, called out her niece’s name.
“LaKaydra, just like that,” she said.
A brother, Henry Walker, waved his towel and said, “You did it baby” as he walked out of the ceremony.
Jay Foster, superintendent of the Senatobia Municipal School District, asked the audience to hold applause until after all names had been called or be escorted out of the ceremony. The announcement was also printed in the ceremony program.
Families are upset and have told media that the consequences are ridiculous, and I agree.
According to CNN, when the superintendent arrived in the district five years ago he began implementing changes to the ceremony procedure.
“We want everyone to see their own loved ones graduate and hear their names called,” Foster said. “When people disrupt that, it takes away from the students and their families.”
True enough, it happens. Families can cheer excessively and other families may miss the pronunciation of their loved one’s name. But how sacred is graduation that even a simple shouting of someone’s first name results in arrest? It’s not that serious. Let’s be honest, at 99.9% of the graduation ceremonies, the authorities usually make the same announcement. But, how often have you sat through a graduation so quiet you could hear a pin drop? Cheering for loved ones has become a norm. So much so that many families prepare for it with unique chants, signs etc. Not because there’s a disregard or disrespect for authority and procedure, but because it is hard to boggle such emotions.
I don’t disagree with Foster for his desire to have a more structured environment at graduation. But I do feel that he should think more realistically in his strategies. If families have bullhorns, bells, or any other loud noisemakers and are shouting excessively throughout the program, which then can be very disruptive, ban such objects and escort persons out if they still decide to use them.
So, what if graduation runs a few minutes longer because you allow for families to tastefully cheer between pauses as each name is called? You only graduate once, so allow for that celebration. Families from near and far come to celebrate in that moment— give them that moment. It is immeasurable what families do for young students. If it weren’t for the discipline of that father or mother there would be no student; furthermore, there would be no you, Superintendent Foster.
Would these arrests have been warranted if these were white family members? That’s a plausible question in today’s time of over-criminalization of African American people by white authority.
Friday, my little cousin graduated from McKinney North High School. It is a predominantly white school and almost 400 other students graduated as well. In the beginning of the ceremony, the superintendent asked that all applause be held until afterwards. Every family represented cheered for their loved ones, white and black. Between claps, screams and hip-hip-hoorays, there was a bullhorn in my section that sounded a number of times. Shortly after, two policemen came in search of the person responsible. The person responsible left before the police arrived, so they dispersed as well.
Sunday morning, before departing our separate ways, my family sat around the breakfast table discussing how proud my late Aunt Dorothy would be to see her grandson graduating. My older cousin rushed into the kitchen showing a video.
“Mom, did you see what happened to Chelsea’s friend,” she began crying.
Chelsea, a freshman at McKinney North High School, watched the video of her friend screaming as she was being slammed to the ground by a white male police officer at a pool party they all were invited to. Chelsea stood there for a moment, traumatized.
Today, it’s a blessing to be black and graduate from high school. Today, it’s a blessing to be black and alive. So, pardon me if I get a little rowdy at my little cousin’s graduation. We are living in a world where young black men are dying every day and worldly influences want to convince him that he doesn’t need an education. For that reason, graduation was more than a ceremony of passage; it was a celebration of completion for him and my family. If it had not been for his praying mother, loving siblings and supportive family, he wouldn’t have made it.
