A Lesson to the Graduates: Go with the Flow!

Everything in life has a beginning and an end, including high school.  After thirteen years at Sidwell Friends School, a Quaker school in Washington, DC, our son joined his 126 classmates yesterday morning to bid farewell to their school.  It has been a wonderful journey for our son to learn from his wise teachers about how the world should operate, with love and compassion, equality and justice.  He has learned how he is living in a community and can’t play the role of the lone wolf who cares only for himself.  Take care of the world and it will, in return, take care of you, a simple concept that many adults still don’t appreciate.  He has learned to let his inner light shine, and let his life speak by his actions.  He has learned not to judge people based on their race, economic or social status and that it’s indeed a duty to help and elevate those in need in society to your level.

The truth is, everyone is not equal, because humans have the tendency to create hierarchies.  Most people, except for some overconfident politicians, don’t think of themselves as being more special or important, making this hierarchy even more pronounced.  For some reason, kings, queens, and presidents are considered so much more important than others, making it extraordinarily inconvenient for those who happen to be wherever they go to. 

Since the President’s older daughter was among the graduates, their graduation started with the parents, except for the First family, having to arrive early enough to pass through security measures and claim our seats near the stage.  One of the advantages of being a king, a queen or a president is how you don’t have to come early to any event at all.  Your parking space is guaranteed; your seat is reserved.  You don’t have to worry about coming two hours early to claim a row of seats for your family, and try to hold your bladder until the family members come. 

My car was searched intensively, as I arrived with my elderly father and parents in law. Thankfully due to their ages, David was able to reserve a parking space along with the secret service vehicles near the entrance to the graduation area.  You either have to be as old as the Smithsonian buildings, or as powerful as the president, to be able to park near the entrance to such an event. I was asked to parallel park my car into a small space, which I could not do, and my older brother was struggling to do it for almost ten minutes, under the guidance of the secret service men.  I was asked to open my car hood, which I didn’t know how to do.  A big black German Shepherd was guided by a Secret Service agent to sniff around my car.  I saw him sniffing even under my car.  The big dog was not impressed, although he and the agent probably thought I should have cleaned my car more often. That’s another advantage of being president; you don’t have to find time to take your car for a wash or fill it up when the gas is half empty. 

After our bags were searched, as another agent jokingly told me I did such a good job for him, showing him quickly all the things in my purse.  I have gone through the airports after 9/11 so many times, and have been living under these searches many times during important school events over the last eight years after the president’s daughters joined Sidwell Friends School. 

The ceremony went smoothly and we loved to watch “the kids,” now entering adulthood, walking down the steps at Zartman House.  The girls were so cute in their white dresses, while the boys were so handsome in their suits and ties.  They each must have felt like a star on such beautiful June day.  They were so lucky, as the weather had been mostly rainy and gray for so many weeks. 

The speaker, Professor Elizabeth Alexander, was eloquent, witty and smart.  She also has a son who’s about to graduate next week in NewYork City, so she knows how a parent feels.  She knows all the traits typical teenagers have, from their sloppiness to their unhealthy or picky eating habits.  She knows how they yearn to be free and shared good advice on how to deal with a tough world, how to navigate above the troubled waters.

After the event ended and we were ready to leave the light reception to head home, I couldn’t start my car!  After quite a few minutes trying to start the car by various people, I questioned a secret service agent if, somehow, while intensively searching my car, they did something to the engine that caused the car to be really “dead.”  Did that black dog bite some wire under my car? Did the man who opened the hood do something to the engine in the front? The secret agent informed me how the search had nothing to do with my car breaking down and politely told me to get help from the school’s security officers.  I quickly learned another advantage of being president; if your car breaks down, you have several others to choose from to get home.  The President is above traffic jams and a car breaking down.

AAA had to be called shortly after multiple attempts by multiple people, from David to some parents to other security officers, as my car stubbornly sat like a dead bug in front of Zartman House.  A nice man from AAA jokingly asked if I knew the moral of this whole situation.  As I was puzzled over his question, he laughed out loud:

“The moral of the story is how you should renew your AAA membership every year, and not depend on the Secret Service!” 

After multiple attempts by the first AAA agent, I was informed my car needed to be towed.  By that time, I was alone with Sandy, as my husband had to take the grandparents home, showing again how you have to be a president or an elder to get ahead of the line in going home in a bad situation.

I was grateful for my eight meditation sessions with Dr. Arnold Raizon.  Instead of getting all frustrated or even angry, I sat on the bench in front of Zartman House with my son, looking at the wide green lawn in front of us.  There were so many birds chirping today, a perfect blue sky day with the sun not burning, but gently warming my face.  I began to realize how, maybe getting ahead of the line was not necessarily an advantage.   

I was able to stretch my legs, hanging out on a public bench with my son watching the world go by.  I was able to walk back to the school yard to take some photos of the high school building, the Kogod theater, the Robert Smith building, without anybody following me in the front, on the sides, in the back, on the roof with weapons. No helicopter had to hover in the sky above me, as if in any minute, this wonderful free life of mine would be taken away by somebody who, many times, just wants a minute of public fame. I was truly free!

I had a long gentle talk with my son about his journey through his illness and his schooling.  How lucky we all were to be able to sit and breath the fresh air of a late spring day, with him all alive and well and finished high school thirteen years after his intense cancer treatment.  I told him how it was a lesson to learn, to live and enjoy the moments and not fretting over what would have or could have happened.  Who lives longer than whom is so difficult to predict in so many cases.  We talked about his next journey through college, and how I hope the wise words of his school head master will stay with him for the rest of his journey through life, how to thrive in a community seeking truth and recognizing others’ goodness.

My husband drove back to take us to lunch, but I couldn’t leave my car.  AAA informed me how I had to be there when the tow truck arrived.  I was waiting for the tow with more walking and pondering for another 45 minutes.  I even walked inside the Zartman house to charge my phone, using the charger from a nice security guard.  Ordinary people are those you can often count on in troubled times.  “Important” people in society, many times, are too busy for mundane tasks.

I had never seen how a tow truck works up close! It was fascinating to see how, with a few maneuvers, the truck driver could guide my car up the back of his truck, and securely tie it down.  Has the president of the United States ever watched a tow truck at work, or ride in a tow truck like me? It was an adventure!

The driver offered to take me to the Peri Peri Chicken restaurant near Sidwell Friends, where my family was having lunch.  It was comfortable sitting in a big tow truck, chatting with this young man.  Ordinary people like us have so many tales to tell.  As I hopped off the truck into the restaurant, I could see the driver wave and smile.  He probably thought I was overdressed in his truck, in my blue sleeveless dress with fancy blue bead necklace and earings.  I could have made a good commercial for AAA. 

Ironically, when I left the house early morning to go to the graduation ceremony, I had to sort out my big working backpack to bring only important items in a smaller purse.  From an emergency kit with bandaids and sterile hand wipes in my backpack, outcame a message from a fortune cookie:

“Life to you is a dashing and bold adventure.”

It was indeed a day full of adventures, but I taught my son not to fret about the misfortunes, but to see the “good” side of every event.  Dr. Raizon, the radiologist who taught me to meditate, should agree I have mastered the technique of “ going with the flow,” of letting the moments take me to whatever my next adventure might be, in my life as a free woman.