More Than a Degree: Reflections from Our Pre-Commencement Ceremony
This past weekend, we celebrated the pre-commencement ceremony for the MBA program alongside fellow graduates from the Working Professional MBA, the MAC program, and the Masters in Supply Chain. It was a morning that began at 8:30 AM and left me with far more than I expected.
The day opened with a warm welcome from our dean, followed by an inspiring keynote from Melinda Whittington, CEO of La-Z-Boy Incorporated, whose words set a thoughtful tone for everything that followed. As people filed in wearing their graduation attire, I noticed the subtle differences between student; colored cords draped around shoulders, each one carrying meaning. A gold cord for finishing in the top 10% of your cohort. Another for completing an overseas project. Others still for student council leadership or club involvement. Small threads, but they told big stories.
Seated among my peers, I found myself quietly reflecting on the journeys that had brought each of us to this room. Some had juggled coursework with raising children. Others had navigated the program while supporting partners or managing personal hardships. The MBA path looks straightforward from the outside, but from the inside, it is anything but sleepless nights over assignments, the relentless internship search, the weight of big decisions made under pressure.
And yet, here we were.
One moment stayed with me more than any other. A classmate had brought both his mother and his 92-year-old grandmother to the ceremony. As he walked in his graduation attire, I caught a glimpse of his grandmother's face and the pride in her eyes was unmistakable. No words were needed. That look said everything about why we put in the work.
Then there was another extraordinary moment: a mother and son, both graduating on the same day; she with her MBA, he with his BBA. Two generations, two degrees, one shared morning of celebration. It was the kind of coincidence that feels less like coincidence and more like something worth remembering.
As for me, my mother wasn't physically present. She was watching from thousands of miles away on a video call. I held up my phone and showed her glimpses of the ceremony: the hall, my friends, the atmosphere. She was beaming. And in that moment, I quietly promised myself that next year, at my own graduation, I will find a way to bring her here in person. To let her feel this, not just see it through a screen.
Cameras were everywhere throughout the day, people capturing photos at every turn. But I think what everyone was really trying to capture was something photos can only approximate: the feeling of the moment. Because these aren't just images. They're proof of the late nights, the group projects, the friendships forged under pressure, and the growth that happened quietly between one semester and the next.
I watched one of my closest friends get visibly emotional, eyes glistening, not from sadness, but from the weight of realizing he had made it. It struck me, because this ceremony isn't an ending. It's a transition. One chapter closing so another can open.
As the formal program wrapped up and we moved toward refreshments, something interesting happened - no one was in a rush to leave. People lingered. More photos, more hugs, more conversations that kept starting even as goodbyes were being said. Families mixed with friends. I even introduced my mother, still on the video call, to a few of my classmates. It made the day feel complete in a way I hadn't anticipated.
That's what I'll carry from this ceremony. Not the keynote, not the cords, not even the degree itself but the people. The grandmother's proud eyes. The mother-son duo defying expectations. My own mother's face on a small screen, proud across the distance.
We didn't just celebrate an academic milestone. We celebrated each other and the next chapter we're all stepping into together.
