I gave the most enthusiastic applause I could muster – without breaking something – and focused on keeping my heart from bursting open with pride.
This experience is usually one saved for watching children at Christmas concerts or graduation ceremonies, but that was not the setting. For me it was watching my father as he walked across a stage to receive a hood on his convocation day.
My father, 50, a farmer for over thirty years had decided to return to the books. He has had many labels over the years: Super Dad, Dedicated Community Member, Musician, Learned Teacher, and Devoted Organic Farmer to name a few. And now he was returning to Student.
He would prefer you just call him Keith.
I was neither shocked nor concerned to hear of his decision. And adding the fact that my mother was also returning to her studies, I was excited for the pair of them. My years in educational institutions were important growing opportunities for me and I knew they would be the same for my parents.
Besides, I had discovered the truth behind my teenage belief: my parents actually don’t know everything. It was about time they attempted to remedy that.
It wasn’t an easy decision for my parents. They had to move 250 kilometers away to seek their education. They were leaving their home, their community, their family, and the life they had created there. The only things they weren’t leaving were their hopes, their dreams and each other. Priorities.
You could see ounces of anxiety crop into the faces of some community members as they began to digest the thought of losing a pair of dedicated community members. Other faces were full of support and admiration. Many didn’t understand and their faces were crippled by confusion: a 50 year old farmer returning to university?
Occasionally I would encounter a face that said, “It’s a midlife crisis. They’ll be back in a year.”
My father got the biggest round of applause and hoots and hollers as he strode across the convocation platform, but his success did not cast a shadow on any others who walked the stage that day. The loud congratulations at that ceremony were not only for his success in completing his degree, but chiefly for shattering all obstacles and grabbing his future by the b-… books.
Dad’s fellow students and professors have all been astounded by his enthusiasm. He approaches education with an eager heart and child-like vigour. One of his professors approached him, saying, “It says here that you’re a mature student. Clearly they don’t know you.”
My father has been awarded many scholarship, been on the Dean’s List, and cut through countless serious stereotypes projected by professors and fellow students alike. His work ethic and willingness to adapt and transform himself into a truly improved individual are astounding. If only there existed a scholarship or award that could adequately capture the extent of his accomplishments.
Perhaps there is one.
Today we are encouraged to honour our fathers. So, Dad, since I have nothing of material value to offer you today, and you already have all of my love, I would instead like to present you to the world as my Father of Inspiration.