DISTANCE LEARNING | CONTINUING EDUCATION | ONLINE DEGREES

Graduation is supposed to be a celebration of learning. But how do we celebrate? Answer: through an esoteric ceremony of symbolic processions, recessions, and costumes that seem more reminiscent of than higher education. By this I don’t mean to demean the accomplishments of graduates; rather I only wish to point out the irony of celebration that is supposed to commemorate higher learning but which most of the attendees — including the graduates — don’t understand.

Nowhere is this gap more apparent than in graduation apparel itself. Honestly, does anyone really know why graduates wear long robes, hoods, mortarboard caps, and tassels? Sure, they’re “traditional,” but what does that mean?

In fact, the origins of the cap and gown date back nearly eight hundred years to the twelfth and thirteenth century when most scholars were members of the clergy. At that time, the typical garb for a clergyman was a clerical robe and cap and its primary function was to help the clergyman stay warm in unheated buildings — usually churches.

In 1321, the practice of wearing robes was expanded to include scholars who were not members of the clergy. At this point, universities were trying to discourage “excess in apparel” and thus mandated robes as the standard form of academic dress. From this point on, universities slowly began introducing other practices, such as using caps, sleeves, and hoods to signify an individual’s rank or degree. Practices continued to evolve: hoods were eventually replaced by mortarboard caps with tassels, and robes and cords soon changed colors in order to signify certain areas of study.

As with most products of a lengthy evolution, graduation dress and ceremonies are now extremely diverse. Relatively few universities (such as those in the United States) have adapted a standard system of colors and dress. As such, graduation at any university in any years is an indecipherable mélange of several traditions, including the medieval church, secular universities, local precedent, and even some pagan groups (for instance, the hood was borrowed from Celtic Druids) — hence, a peculiar ceremony.

Graduation is peculiar not only because it draws liberally and unabashedly from several traditions but also because each university does it a little differently, which makes each individual ceremony distinct. On the one hand, this seems terribly ironic — how can such a confused and insoluble ceremony be the capstone of an education devoted to order, knowledge, and unity? On the other hand, this seems terribly appropriate — after all, what better way to celebrate the remarkable diversity of individuals and ideas that constitute a liberal education? Frankly, I’m torn.

In the final analysis, I’m not sure my investigation of graduation ceremonies cast much light on its true significance. I will continue to attend these semi-annual ceremonies with head-scratching awe and wonder why tassels are moved from one side to the other, why caps are thrown in the air, and, most of all, where does “Pomp and Circumstance” officially end and where does it begin again? I just keep reminding myself that in its most basic sense, graduation is a rite of passage — a movement from one stage of life into the next — and like most rites of passage, it only makes sense with the benefit of hindsight. As such, its significance and even its symbolism will be unique to each graduate, who will someday look back and wonder, like myself, what to make of this peculiar ceremony.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Benjamin Welch has been a college instructor in writing and composition for nearly six years. When he’s not teaching or playing golf, he offers advice for students seeking information about online education and online degrees.

“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong — and usually at the worst possible moment.” This universal truth — also known as Murphy’s Law — can apply to many areas, from economics to sports, as anyone who lived through either of the Great Depressions knows. (By that I mean either the Great Depression following the stock market crash of 1929 or the one in Chicago following the infamous “Bartman episode” in the 2003 NLCS.)

A website entitled "Murphy’s Laws Site” has created a catalog of Murphy’s Laws and has organized them around specific subjects such as love, technology, nursing, lotteries, graphic design, and parenthood. There is also a section devoted to education and teaching. As a former college student and a current college instructor, I can certify that these laws are absolutely true. A few of my favorites include:

The time a teacher takes in explaining is inversely proportional to the information retained by students.

When reviewing your notes before an exam, the most important ones will be illegible.

Eighty percent of the final exam will be based on the one lecture you missed or the one book you didn’t read.

The one course you must take to graduate will not be offered during you last semester.

The closest library doesn’t have the material you need, and no matter which book you need, it’s on the bottom shelf.

The library will close five minutes before you remember that you left your book bag inside. Corollary #1: It will be Saturday, and it won’t open until Monday. Corollary #2: Your half-finished term paper, which is due Monday morning, and all your research will be inside.

When you study for easy tests you fail miserably; when you don’t study for the hard ones you pass with flying colors.

For my part, I would add one more Murphy’s Law to the collection. I’m calling it “Murphy’s Law of Course Evaluations” — it is that the only student that provides detailed feedback at the end of the semester is the one that absolutely detests me and that rarely, if ever, attended class.

What are your Murphy’s Laws?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Benjamin Welch has been a college instructor in writing and composition for nearly six years. When he’s not teaching or playing golf, he offers advice for students seeking information about online education, continuing education and online degrees.

NOTE: The neutrality of this blog is disputed.

As a college writing instructor, I can vouch that there are certain questions that come up again and again during the course of every writing class. Questions include:

When do I use "then" and when do I use "than"?

How do I write a good thesis statement?

Where do I put the page numbers?

Then there are more general questions, such as:

Do you always have to start class on time and end class on time?

Is there anyone else who teaches this course?

You’re married. Really? You? (Often followed by a "That poor woman" muttered under their breath.)

But perhaps the most common question I get is whether Wikipedia, the ubiquitous online encyclopedia, can be used as a viable source for research papers. In response to this question, I try to explain how academic discourse works — I talk about accuracy, credibility, objectivity, peer-reviewing, and the like. Most of the time, students just stare at me blankly and say, "So … ah … is that a no?"

As such, I’ve been searching for a better response, one that I hope will finally put to rest this question, which has been lurking in the halls of academia and feeding on the unsuspecting brains of my students like a zombie from one of the old Simpson’s Halloween Specials. At long last, I think I finally found the answer, which was provided by, of all people, the founder of Wikipedia.com, Jimmy Wales. To quote from The Chronicle of Higher Education:

Speaking at a conference at the University of Pennsylvania on Friday called “The Hyperlinked Society,” Mr. Wales said that he gets about 10 e-mail messages a week from students who complain that Wikipedia has gotten them into academic hot water. “They say, ‘Please help me. I got an F on my paper because I cited Wikipedia’” and the information turned out to be wrong, he says. But he said he has no sympathy for their plight, noting that he thinks to himself: “For God sake, you’re in college; don’t cite the encyclopedia.”

Mr. Wales goes on to say that Wikipedia is good for getting a general overview for a subject but notes that academic papers should draw from real sources — you know, like the kind you find in the library.

There it is — straight from the horse’s mouth — Wikipedia is not a viable source for college papers. Thus, I think it’s finally time that students and educators accept the fact that serious academic discussions must be conducted in serious academic forums. Websites like Wikipedia simply cannot function as the means for conveying crucial information on scholarly topics. As such, I can think of no better way to strike the death knell for Wikipedia and its kin than by having candid discussion in an academic setting that is truly deserving of that name — namely, this blog.

I welcome your anonymous, web-generated comments.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Benjamin Welch has been a college instructor in writing and composition for nearly six years. When he’s not teaching or playing golf, he offers advice for students seeking information about continuing education, online education and online degrees.