As with the seasons…graduation is one of those markers of time in the university calendar. There’s something magical about being at a graduation – the pomp and ceremony, excitement, tradition and the fact that it’s a pivotal moment in an individual’s career as they transition into employment or pursue postgraduate study.
I remember my first graduation very clearly…it was freezing cold and the ceremony was in the Albert Hall. My peers and I watched in awe as the PhD candidates came on stage and received their degrees…such elaborate gowns, stunning caps and the chance to shake hands with Princess Anne. We waited our turn – Bachelor of Science and walked along the stage in swift succession, no stopping, no selfies (there were no mobile phones!), no opportunity to seize that moment… not even a blur in my mind.
Coming from a family of high achievers (my mother, an anaesthetist and my father, an architect) who had struggled on arriving in London as postgraduate students. It was understandable why my first degree didn’t warrant much celebration – it was seen simply as the first step, an expectation and an opportunity to move forward. They knew that in order to succeed in Britain we would, like them, have to prove ourselves and continuously strive to be better…one step ahead.
In fact, on the day of graduation- my mother was working so couldn’t attend, my father had passed away in my first year of study and both my brothers were themselves at university outside London (one studying Economics and the other Medicine). These were pieces of paper that gave you access and if you were lucky, they would open doors (theoretically!)…they were necessities.
So whilst some students came out with degrees in French Literature or Theology – the majority of minority ethnic students were predominantly studying Pharmacy, Economics, Law, Accounting and Medicine. Sadly, not much has changed – sitting on the stage last week there were but a handful of students of South Asian heritage graduating with a degree in Education.
Teaching – the noble profession, but not one that pays well! Luckily that wasn’t my motivator and this vocation has given me more than money could possibly buy. It gave me an identity (another one!) and the opportunity to learn – from my colleagues but most importantly, from my students. I lived in Japan for 6 years and it was my students who patiently corrected my terrible pronunciation and endless mistakes when writing in Kanji. I taught at all levels from Kindergarten (where the students called me An-Sensei) to University where I was either Sensei or Professor (Japan having taken on the American education system).
On returning to the UK, I completed a Master’s Degree and PhD but didn’t attend either graduation ceremony, it was after all an unnecessary extravagance…it was only when I got my first post-doctoral post at The University of Lancaster that I got to wear the beautiful gown and in a way celebrate my own achievement. It was a wonderful graduation ceremony with trumpeters playing as we entered the hall – proud parents and family members watching as we made our way to the stage.
Last week I attended the graduation of students from the IOE – UCLs Faculty of Education and once again had the opportunity to enjoy that privilege of celebrating the success of another generation of students.
These students were not shy as we were…some waved at their families as they walked by, others took selfies and one brought her little daughter to walk with her on the stage as she completed this milestone. It was a privilege to hear Rob Rinder speak about being ‘contrarian’ and our responsibility to claim back the pen and write our own stories.
Graduation is an event that always fills me with joy – it’s inspiring and life affirming. As someone from a minority ethnic background I feel a sense of responsibility to be present amongst my majority white colleagues – being that brown face walking in the procession and sitting on the stage would make my parents proud of their hard work and sacrifice. If in turn it inspires others, then that is simply the icing on the cake…or biscuit!
I want to end this piece on graduation with a tribute to one of my students – her name was Mumtaz and sadly she died of cancer and was unable to attend her graduation. She was an inspiration – no chemotherapy, loss of hair or pain was going to stop her achieving her aim of completing two masters degrees from UCL-IOE and becoming a STEP Teacher. Mumtaz passed away before her graduation, but that was the most beautiful graduation ceremony that I attended. There was not a dry eye in the room…everyone stood up and clapped for this resilient teacher who persevered despite the odds and made us realise again that this is the noblest of professions. RIP.
