Graduation Survival Guide

By Sharie Derrickson

My nephew graduated high school last week, and like the dutiful aunt that I am, I showed up ready to help push him out the door to college. The whole process sounds pretty easy, but apparently, it isn’t, which is why I have dubbed my trip, “Cry-fest 2005.” When I wasn’t helping make party arrangements, I was pulling my sister out of a sob spiral that would start because she saw the tree they planted when my nephew was only ten, or would pick up a pair of his socks from the floor and, “Who is going to do his laundry,” Sob, sob, sob. “I can’t believe my baby is leaving home?” Sob, sob, sob some more.

Meanwhile, my brother-in-law continuously did shakedowns of the couch cushions and the clothes dryer looking for loose change, handing rolls of it over to my nephew saying, “This better last you, buck-o.”

It is with this in mind that I have put together a few suggestions for parents and those kids about to fly the nest off to college.

For the graduate:

1. Tell your mother how much you love her and can’t survive without her, and promise to call once a day, even if it is a lie. Normally, I don’t advocate lying, but unless you want about fifty messages on your answering machine that say, “Hi honey. It’s just mom. I hope you are wearing clean underwear and eating your vegetables. Oh, and your father says, ‘Get a job.’ He misses you so much and has just been walking around the house holding the bank statements muttering to himself. I’m starting to worry because he has started panhandling for money on the corner because he thinks you are going to put us in the poor house. Remember, your mama loves you and misses you. Don’t stay out too late and do your homework. When are you coming home? I’ll make you your favorite meal when you come home? Cry, cry, cry, sob, sob, sob.”

Oh, if your mother says to call her back collect, do it when you know your father is not going to home, or else you will be hearing, “Collect? Collect? Who does he think I am – Donald Trump?
No, I won’t accept the charges operator – but please, tell him to get a job. Click.”

2. Get a job. I hate to break the bad news to you, but you actually need money to do things like eat, buy deodorant, and to call your mother, all of which are things you should do. Here is a creative way to earn money – fill out a little something called an application, get up each day and put on CLEAN clothes and go to this place where people do stuff for other people, like rent videos or deliver pizza. This is also known as getting a job.

3. Do your schoolwork. It is a little-known fact that when you are enrolled in college, you are actually expected to show up to class and do a bunch of reading and other boring stuff. I know you probably didn’t hear this during the orientation because you were too busy checking out your dating prospects, but I’ll say it for you again – you are doing more than living in this cool dorm and putting people’s underwear in Jell-O. There are these things called textbooks that you read and learn from and are not merely a part of your wickedly-da’bomb of a coffee table you built out of books, beer cans, and pizza boxes.

4. GPA stands for grade point average – not, “Great party – awesome!” Your GPA should equal at least the minimal number of times you go home and see your mother in one year. It works like this – mom and dad only give you money for school if you are actually passing, and no, a one point zero is not a good grade just because it is a positive integer. If you don’t know what an integer is, go to math class once in a while.

Also, college is not a permanent thing. Someday, you will be expected to be done with it and get a real job, unless you are tricky enough to con your parents into paying for your graduate degree – but still, the inevitable will happen and you have to do something with your life other than be a financial Shop-Vac.

5. This one is for the guys – wash your clothes. Unlike popular belief, it isn’t cool to smell in college. If you are clothes-washing illiterate, you have several options – you can ask your girlfriend to do it, provided you can get one because you smell so bad, or, you can go home and see your mother, or, wait, here’s an idea – learn how to wash them yourself – the directions are on the box of laundry soap your mother gave you when you left home.

6. Just because your roommate did it doesn’t mean you should, such as ski off the roof of the dorm, eat your body weight in jalapeno peppers in one sitting, drink from anything covered in mold or hair for fun, write the answers to the test on the inside of your contact lenses, fill the dean’s car with whipped cream and bacon bits, or start a band.

Research shows that one hundred percent of those who play in a band during college will hear their fathers say, “You should be home studying for finals and not out wasting your time or my money because you think you are a rock star. Who do you think you are, Keith Richards?” to which you will be forced to say, “Who’s that?” and then things will get even more ugly after that.

7. You must, at some point, decide on a major. You should change your major way less than your underwear. Pick a major that translates into a real job. As interesting as intergalactic geology sounds, I’m not sure who is going to hire you except the people who put on “Star Trek” conventions, or companies that want to drill for oil on Neptune. Remember, the point of picking a major is so that you can graduate and get a job so your father is no longer out in the park with his metal detector trying to find more tuition money.

8. Clean your room once in a while. There is no prize for most filthy dorm room and no, Oprah is not going to show up with a cleaning crew to do it for you, no matter how many times you email her to ask. That smell you have been wondering about – no, there is no dead body buried under the dorm – chances are it’s your room, and no, socks should not stick to furniture under any circumstances. And, here is a little trick – it’s called air freshener. Use it.

For the parents of the graduate:

Lock the doors, change your telephone number, and go start a band. Lord knows you deserve it.


© 2006 Sharie Derrickson. Previously printed in the Thousand Islands Sun.