Thoughts from a high school graduation
The fifth faculty member starts to call out the valedictorians and what scholarships they have and where they'll be going to college. To my surprise, she calls out seven girls and one guy. Some of the chicks were going to study the arts, one was looking forward to being the 10th girl to ever grace the halls of the Colorado School of Mines, the others were going to study biology or math and the boy was future West Point material (FWPM). This was an easy crowd to break down. One maybe two of the girls will actually obtain the degree they set out to obtain, two will obtain a degree of some sort and the rest will be answering your call to a customer service center (if all the CS jobs aren't outsourced to India by then) or serving you food at a fancy restaurant. As for FWPM, his parents are school administrators, so they probably pulled a string or two. I'm positive none of his classmates liked him since he probably looked down on all of the other fellas for their inferior grades. He was also the class spokesman. If he was the spokesman for my class, I would've immediately tarred and feathered him for his "life is a beach" speech. I feel for the soldiers who have to serve under his command IF he makes it through West Point.
After some more boring speeches and a lame choir song (these kids were robbed), they finally started to call up the kids for their pieces of paper. This was my chance to determine the future winners vs. the future losers. A majority of these kids will end up with decent-paying jobs and will buy houses they could barely afford in some new sub-division just to keep up with the Joneses. The ones I want to focus on are the ones that will be either absolute losers or will actually make a good difference.
First on the agenda, the losers. I automatically tagged anyone with a floppy fro as a loser. Sure enough, one floppy fro kid got his name called hopped onto the stage, bypassed the goofy faculty lady giving fake hugs and practically jumped off the stage on his way back to his seat. A couple of his floppy fro buddies high-fived when he got back to his seat. They all plan on working at a skate/snowboard shop for the next 30 years. One of them will eventually cut his hair and become an outcast, and that's only because Nordstrom cashiers have an image to uphold. All athletes (boy and girl) with scholarships were also given loser status. They were lied to by some scout from a no-name college about their mad skillz, so when they find out that they're not good as the scout made them out to be they'll end up working at a local rec center coaching little league teams, telling people how much they enjoy working with kids. In reality, they couldn't make it to the next level and were left out in the cold when companies realized that they had an eigth grade reading level. It was easier to spot the girl losers after the commencement. They already had cigarettes in their mouths, and were only dressed with their gown on. I grouped them with the like, totally awesome Valley girls. (I can just hear myself tell them, "Let me speak to your manager." at the bank, store, restaurant, you name it.)
Now, onto the sparcest of groups, the winners. All valedictorians were eliminated. I was searching and searching when it dawned on me. The ones that are actually going to live up to their potential are the underdogs. The ones that don't have a cheering section. The ones who got B's instead of A's because they had lives outside of school. The ones who overcame all odds and were proud of the fact that they obtained a diploma. The ones who savored each moment as if it were their last. Of course, this narrowed it down to two people. One, a girl who had a couple of college scholarships, but no cheering section. I'm almost certain her mom wasn't even there. She'll become a plastic surgeon and end up working on the girls who's faces are mangled from too much smoking, and who didn't think she was cool enough to hang out with them. The other, a guy who's parents brought his gown as the names were being called. The last name had been called as he scurried to hand his name to the name caller-outer. Unfortunately, the mic was off and all the name caller-outer managed to utter when the mic came on was the guy's last name. The guy was denied both the fake hug and fake piece of paper, and was only able to get a wave to his folks off before rushing off the stage. He'll own the skate/snowboard stores that the floppy fro guys work at and live the rest of his days on the beach while the floppy fro guys stock his shelves and FWPM stands on the corner near one of his shops on the boardwalk with a cardboard sign that reads, "HomlesS dIsabled vett. AnythIng hElpS."