graduation traditions

The Surprising Origins of Graduation Traditions The Academic Cap The distinctive tasseled, square cap - often called a "mortarboard" because of its resemblance to a motorboat - has been in use at academic functions since the 1300s, when it was adopted at British universities to distinguish graduates from peasants. Graduation often featured a buffet, and hungry peasants from the surrounding fields would stream into the quad, claiming to be recipients of bachelor's degrees, which entitled them to "all they could eat" (Simpson, 1990). It was difficult to ascertain who was a graduate, because the invention of attendance would not be made for another 400 years. University authorities believed that distinctive, ridiculous headgear would enable them to quickly decide who got the degree _ and the fixings-laden salad bar _ and who got a face full of boiling tar. Interestingly, the tassle was not added in the United States until the 1920s, when academia was dominated by easily distracted cats. The Academic Gown From the origins of higher education in the Greek world to today's bustling hubs of research, one thing has always been true: people in college love to dress like women. For centuries, this was simply a matter of convenience: women were not allowed to read, write, or attend school until 1977 (thank you very much, President Carter). So, if college students wanted anyone to get drunk too easily, complain about feeling bloated, or twirl their hair and say, "What are you doing Thursday night?" instead of studying geometry, the men jolly well had to do it themselves. Following the bitterly-contested and uncontestably disastrous introduction of vaginas to the university environment, the fond memories of those bygone days have been preserved in the residual custom of men wearing sumptuous dresses at graduation. Eventually, this custom migrated out of the colleges and into the high schools, because it was felt, for self-esteem purposes, that the 80 percent of high school graduates too dumb to attend even Arizona State should get to feel like big shots, even for a day. The Diploma It was a dilemma that confronted educators from Socrates to Grape Ape: education is all very well and good, but how can graduates of a school or academy prove they have achieved matriculinearity? For centuries, this was solved by the expedient of graduates working only at the universities from which they had graduated. After a while, though, it was felt that Europe's serf-led, muck-based economy could perhaps benefit from the insights of those who could read and write, and graduates were tasked with telling kings when to invade, and when to pay the Venetians. But how could kings be sure these graduates had really graduated? Scholar Francis Bacon had the profound insight of saying that kings could simply place telephone calls to the relevant universities; unfortunately, the telephone would not be invented until 1938, and Bacon's gaffe led to his name being a synonym for idiot, as in the still-popular contemporary expression "Bacon-headed dundlehorse." Eventually, universities realized they could just hand out paperwork signifying completion of classes. This solved the immediate problem, although forged diplomas continue to be a vibrant and thriving folk art throughout the civilized world. The Commencement Shuffle No graduation - whether high school, college, or substance abuse program - would be complete without the merry two-step known as the Commencement Shuffle. Each spring, television newscasts are filled with footage of graduates and their families gleefully indulging in the stiff-limbed, swivel-hipped dance that signifies one has truly become an adult. Fascinatingly, this dance dates only to the 1950s, and was first practiced at California's Theosophic University. Recent research suggests it had something to do with either hallucinogenic drugs or witchcraft, but theosophy devotee Dwight "David" Eisenhower's enthusiastic demonstration of it at the 1958 Harvard commencement ensured its place in the ritual of American graduation. As an aside, despite warnings of health risks associated with the dance, only one person (Harold Stassen) has even died from Commencement Shuffle-related ailments.