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Despite cult-like traditions convocation still worth it

I did not want to go to my convocation last Monday.
I was dreading what I thought would be a painfully long ceremony where Western big shots would congratulate the hundreds of faces they’ve never seen before for successfully completing their degrees at a research-intensive university that offers the best student experience.
In many ways, I was right — the ceremony clocked in at over two hours and Western took advantage of the many opportunities to pat itself on the back, including a number of teaching awards for full-time faculty members and shout outs to the Alumni Association and Board of Governors.
Not to mention, I’ve never been one for school spirit, so the thought of attending a tradition as celebrated as convocation was not alluring in the slightest.
So while I grudgingly attended what was likely my last formality as a
Western student for the sake of my mother, I left the Alumni Hall gym with my $20,000 piece of paper in hand and mixed emotions.
The entire process of convocation — from the early morning $40 regalia rental to the hour-long process of getting ourselves into alphabetical order and entering the gym —felt like being in a herd of cattle, led from one point to another before finally being freed as the convocation choir played the theme of Indiana Jones.
It was reminiscent of what much of my academic and administrative experience at Western had been like: I entered the Western system with my acceptance in the spring of 2005, was led through Summer Academic Orientation, O-Week, waited in that never-ending OSAP line and followed a regimented course module before being let out of the system four years later.
That being said, I felt very much like a cog in the Western machine as
I crossed the stage and was admitted by a professor in my faculty whom
I had never met, and who proceeded to ask me: “so what are your plans for the future?”
Really? Was I really expected to sum up my uncertain future plans in the five seconds I had before being ushered off the stage?
Although the question seemed genuine, and she honestly looked interested in what I was able to blurt out, I couldn’t help feeling as though we were both simply following a script written by the University, which left a bad taste in my mouth.
Despite the animosity I felt towards taking part in what I feel is an exaggerated, self-indulgent and drawn-out ceremony, I am a little glad I went. I did work considerably hard over the last four years, and
I felt I deserved to walk across that stage and be recognized — even if only by my own mother.

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