19. Bath Robes and Toilet Rolls: A Mock Graduation Ceremony
What I remember: I'm standing in the corner of my cousin's basement 'recreation room.' It has wood panelling, wall-to-wall carpetting, and a full bar in the corner. It is late autumn, the annual reunion of my father's family--aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins filled the space. I was young, but I don't know what age.
Unannounced, a ceremony begins. Uncle Harry leads a procession including my father and my Uncle Ted, all three wearing bathrobes, and with some kind of chain around their necks, and some kind of hat that I can't quite place. Others are in the procession, and there is music. And when they have entered the center of the room, and the rest of the family gathers around them, Uncle Harry turns and faces the others, and opens a grand-looking paper. He begins to read to them in flowery prose, and words I don't understand, to me gibberish. He reads something with serious purpose, and great pomposity, and then presents my father and Uncle Ted with a 'diploma'--in fact, a roll of toilet paper--and we all applaud and cheer.
That's the full memory. And here is what I know--
Context:
The Occasion: My father and uncle were optometrists, who had completed a two-year professional degree in the 1930s. They had good careers, and were successful private businessmen for decades. And then, in the early 1960s, the profession changed, and an optometrist had to have a professional doctorate to practice. So both men took courses, part-time and in the summer, in order to qualify. When they were finished, they not only had the credentials, but they could now call themselves 'doctors.' This was quite extraordinary for our family. These were the two younger brothers in that generation, who had gone into this line of work based on part-time jobs they had as teenagers, who had worked their way through a two-year program to get ahead in the world. Not only was there no economic means or family culture that would allow for a university education, they were the first two family members who completed high school. For them to be able to call themselves 'doctors'--and to have a post-graduate diploma, by whatever back door--well, that needed to be celebrated by the whole family.
And how did they celebrate? With a mock ceremony.
A Celebratory Mockery: But I wonder what 'mockery' means. I remember great laughter at this event, but in the most positive way imaginable. I remember that it was a celebration; and yet there was clearly a need to prick the balloon of self-congratulation. There appeared to be a need to remind everyone present, and not only the recipients of the degree, that although it was an achievement, it was also, after all, just a piece of (toilet) paper and just a (bath) robe, and that rituals must be viewed in their proper place.
This doesn't mean the family didn't value ritual, or ceremony. This same Johnson family had an annual celebration which it actually named 'The 77 Club,' because the first meeting was on my Grandmother's 77th Birthday. Unlike any other family 'reunion' I have hear about, ours had a constitution, held official meetings, kept minutes, and organized charitable donations. For a time it struck a series of medals, and presented them to anyone in the family who graduated from college or university. They valued and celebrated--and seriously bragged about--any achievement.
The Documents That Complicate: There is something more to say about this event. When I sorted through my father's papers, long after his death, I found a piece of paper. It was a script for this ceremony, transcribed below:
Processional
(Mel) We will open our 15th Annual Graduation Ceremonies with O Canada.
Dearly Beloved, We are gathered together here in Doug Johnson's Pioneer Room to do homage to two of our number by conferring upon them the degrees that they have worked so long and hard to obtain. I shall now call upon the the Venerable Chancellor of the Institution to indoctrinate them.
(Harry)
Will the Audience Please Rise
The Graduates will kindly kneel before me.
[Clear your throat]
Gloria In Excelsis Deo.
Veni, Vidi, Vici.
Semper Ubi, Sub Ubi.
E Pluribus Unum.
[Place medals on them]
By the power vest in me by the Bored of Examiners of the 77 Club, I now brand you with the degree
Doctor of Optometry
[Give Art Degree]
Congratulations, Arthur.
[Give Ted Degree]
Congratulations Edward.
You may be seated.
(Mel) Thank you, your Devastating Chancellorship.
It is my extremely great pleasure at this time to introduce to you the Valedictorian of this Class of '62, Dr. Ted Johnson.
Here is how this document complicates the event, and my memory of it:
1. There is a script, that was clearly meant to be followed, and addressed to 'Harry.' This means that there was preparation for this event, in advance, and with care. There were medals struck, there was costuming, blocking, a declared space for a procession. There was nonsensical wordplay built into the script, and stage directions calling for non-verbal sounds and gestures.
2. This document reinforces some of my memory, and betrays its limitations. I remember that the basement setting was wood-panelled, but I didn't know it was dressed to look rustic ('the pioneer room'). I remembered the nonsensical words, but only remember one uncle, not two, leading the ceremony. I remember being young, but the date on this is December 2, 1962, when I was eight. I'm surprised I remember this at all.
3. There is a lot missing from this script that my memory can provide, in particular the extent of the 'mock' in the 'mock graduation.' The script indicates the verbal, but it doesn't mention the comic costuming (bathrobes) and props (toiletpaper) that are central to my memory. I appreciate this reinforcement of an important truth: that oral history and documentary history are both needed to provide a complex portrayal of the performance.
4. But I can go farther, now that I have all the evidence. This 'ceremony' was conducted by the two oldest members of the family--'Mel,' the oldest brother, and 'Harry,' his close friend and brother-in-law. These were two men who had grown up together, and as teenagers had volunteered for the army in Work War One. Mel was a stretcher-bearer in the ambulance corp, Harry a bugler at Vimy, both on the front lines, both with terrible, life-changing experiences on the battlefield. I appreciate that these experiences were more than 40 years before this ceremony, but to my mind, their stature in the family meant far more than either my memory or the surviving script can convey.
It is important, also, to know that neither man 'performed.' They did not speak publicly, they did not read aloud, and they did not graduate from any school. For them to be a part of this ceremony was completely out of character, and uncomfortable. They had many talents--Mel was a published author, and Harry a skilled photographer. But they did not make speeches.
I wonder how much the performer's back-story meant to this performance.
5. And finally, it means something that my father had this script in his possession at all, along with a small invitation to that year's family reunion. The invitation was for him and his family, but the script was something he must have asked for after the ceremony. This says to me that the mock graduation meant a great deal to him.
It was a ceremony he wanted to remember.
