Commencement, Continuation, Convocation
This is my last week of school. On Thursday, fifth-grade students will have their continuation ceremony. We used to call this a 5th Grade Graduation until recently, the district informed us that graduation ceremonies are reserved solely for seniors. The Latin root gradus means “step” or “pace.” Eventually, this evolved to signify a position, stage, or rank in a series (i.e.: in the words grade, degrade, retrograde). By the 15th century, the Medieval Latin graduātus (to take a degree) was used to describe the completion of one academic level and then the moving on to the next academic level. So, when seniors graduate high school, they traditionally move to the next step of schooling: college. In most elementary schools, this logic holds for all grade levels (Kindergarteners graduating to the first grade; fifth-graders graduating to middle school). However, at some point, our district felt that only high school seniors could officially graduate because they were the only students completing degree requirements and receiving official high school diplomas. I do not think that administrators were thinking semantically, but the change to continuation does makes sense. The Latin continuatio, meaning “a following of one thing after another” seems more appropriate for the younger grades as they move through school.
Your need for acceptance can make you invisible in this world. Don't let anything stand in the way of the light that shines through this form. Risk being seen in all of your glory.
So, Fifth Grade Graduation became Fifth Grade Continuation. But what about the ceremony? In one school I taught in, our Continuation Ceremony grew each year until it became an unwieldy event, too large for our elementary school gym. Parents demanded pomp and circumstance for their young adolescents. They wanted a Fifth Grade Commencement, with caps and gowns, teacher speeches, and faux-diplomas.
Simon Somerville Laurie (1829-1909), who served as the first Professor of the Institutes and History of Education at the University of Edinburgh, believed that those students who satisfactorily completed the requirements of the trivium (grammar, logic, and rhetoric), would be “named a bachelor by the masters of that subject, and had now the right to wear a round cap, and not only the right, but the obligation, to teach freshmen. He was then said incipere in artibus.”1 So, commencement originally implied that one was commencing to teach after completing one’s university studies.
The word commencement derives from the Old French comencement and the verb comencier, meaning “to begin” or “to start.” It traces back to the Latin roots com- (together) and initiare (to initiate or begin). It stands to reason that a Commencement Ceremony would be the gathering of students who were preparing to start a career in teaching. Today, most parents are not etymologists, just extremely proud to recognize their child’s achievements and celebrate their transition from elementary school to middle school; childhood to adolescence. The start of the “real world.”
I love commencement speeches. Some of my favorites include Steve Jobs, Michelle Obama, Reid Hoffman, Matthew McConaughey, Stacey Y. Abrams, John Krasinski, Toni Morrison, Conan O'Brien, Zadie Smith, and most recently, Harrison Ford.
Your generation has far more power than you may realize. And if you harness that power, if you find your leadership, your issues, your voice, the world will not be able to ignore you.
Harrison Ford, Commencement Speech at ASU, May 11, 2026
I love the idea of standing in front of my students one last time, to give them some parting advice. Looking directly into my students’ eyes, sharing whatever wisdom I have gleaned from my four-and-a-half decades of living, they are the most engaged. They listen. It may be because their families are watching, but I like to believe that it is because, despite all of the innumerable distractions competing for their attention, they want to be present in this moment, with me, with their parents. They want to hold onto this occasion because after the ceremony, they are no longer fifth-graders. They will walk out of the library, at least a part of them knowing, that they are leaving some of their childhood behind. Middle school does not make them an adolescent. They still have a lot of growing left to do. But middle school represents that next step.
I am happy to usher my students into their next phase of life. I realize that they are not officially earning any sort of degree. I print out the certificate I hand them. To the state and the school district, that piece of cardstock indicates that they have successfully fulfilled their “Carnegie units” or seat time. Students have successfully been in school for 177 days, seven hours per day. They have accumulated 1239 instructional hours. Teachers know that not all school hours are equal. 21 hours in May are not the same as 21 hours in October. This week, we will be playing games, watching a couple of movies, socializing, signing yearbooks, reflecting on the school year, writing letters to my future fifth-grade students, and packing up my classroom.
My philosophy is very simple. When you see something that’s not right, not fair, not just, stand up, say something, and speak out.
On Thursday, we will gather in the library for a very small, informal convocation. The word, convocation, originates from late 14th-century Middle English convocacioun, derived from Latin convocātiōnem (“an assembling together”), meaning a formal gathering or calling together of people. It combines the prefix con- (“together”) and vocāre (“to call”), which stems from vox (“voice”). During the Middle Ages, monasteries were places of learning (Scholae monasticae). Monks were considered scholars. By the 12th century, independent universities began forming in Europe’s cathedral cities as secular communities became places people would gather to pursue knowledge. These are precursors to today’s universities. As universities grew, scholars looked for ways to honour students who completed their studies and welcome them into the scholarly life. The word convocation then referred to these gatherings of the scholar clergy of Canterbury and York, but in 1577 Oxford University was the first to use it to describe the assembly of its graduates. I prefer the term convocation to commencement and continuation because I think the etymology of the word better fits the occasion.
I am calling together my students and their families to that we can celebrate our year together. And it has been quite a year! Together, we have experienced the christening of our classroom, the rigor of close reading literature, participated in Socratic Seminars, and learned about theme through Pixar shorts and reading Chekhov. There have been highs (Literary 3x3s) and lows (student mutiny) and everything in between. And the end of it all, we will gather together in fellowship to reflect and celebrate.
Perhaps the most useful suggestion I can make on the day when most of you are ceasing to be students, is that you go on being students- for the rest of your lives. Don’t move to a mental slum. Keep on reading. Lay off the television. And, remember when you hear yourself saying one day that you don’t have time any more to read- or listen to music, or look at painting, or go to the movies, or do whatever feeds you head now- then you’re getting old. That means they got to you, after all.
There is no record of the first commencement speech given to graduates. In the 17th and 18th centuries, commencement ceremonies were led by graduating students who gave orations (often in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek) and led academic debates. By the 20th century, American presidents began sharing their words of wisdom to graduates. On June 21, 1905, Theodore Roosevelt was the first president to give a commencement speech, speaking to graduates of Clark University in Worcester, Massachusetts, urging them to pursue “honesty, courage, and common sense” instead of solely intellectual achievements. Since then there have been almost 200 presidential commencement speeches, and every president since Dwight D. Eisenhower has given at least one commencement speech. Today, is seems like every influencer, public figure, celebrity, or politician is chosen to speak at commencement ceremonies.
I, too, given my very small celebrity status among the student body, speak to my fifth-graders continuing on to middle school. In years past, I have shared advice before going to middle school and written my students a letter to read on the first day of summer vacation. This year, I am unsure what to say. I want to acknowledge the challenges of this year, but I certainly do not want to be completely pessimistic. I want to encourage them to “be resilient”, but I do not want to sound trite either. I want to be honest and speak to my students with my same authenticity I have had this year.
Here are a few things I plan to say to my students during our 5th Grade Convocation.
Go touch some grass!
My students desperately need to spend more time outdoors and less time on their devices. Their attentions are atrophying, and they are so used to instant notifications and technology-induced dopamine hits, they have forgotten what it feels like be outside for longer than it takes to walk home from school. In the last few days, I helped my students create a Summer Vacation Bucket List. We organized the items into four categories: friends and family, outside, inside, and to be helpful or grow. We made a collective list that includes bicycle rides, hiking, babysitting, star gazing, and camping. I want my students to see that there are indoor options that do not involve technology (e.g.: reading a book, listening to music, making ice cream, building a fort). The best part of summer is the slow, more human pace of living, and I want my students to take full advantage of their long summer days and lazy summer evenings.
Listen deeply!
So much of this school year has been me trying to give directions and teach concepts over the constant din of side conversations. I have never claimed to ever have 100% engagement, but this school year has been particularly challenging. I either stood and waited for what seemed like an eternity, or I continued teaching to those who were trying to pay attention. Either option made for a clunky flow and frustrating classroom learning experiences. This summer is a perfect time for students to practice the art of listening deeply. Whether is it playing an album and listening to it from start to finish, or going outside and listening to the cicadas, listening takes practice.
One activity I have done with my students is a perspective taking sounds game. The rules are simple: I play a sound and students have to try and guess what it is. It only works when everyone is silent. The purpose of the game is to help students better understand perspectives and how to respectfully disagree, but I also like to use it as listening practice. I intentionally do not turn up the volume loud because I want them to focus, and perhaps close their eyes to concentrate.
I have also structured reflection activities that help students listen creatively. I adapted it from a Creative Listening exercise that IDEO uses with their clients. IDEO’s Creative Listening Toolkit has a collection of worksheets, each labeled with words like Intuition, Interpretation, and Inspiration. The goal is to listen with a creative purpose. For example, the sheet labeled Interpretation says: While you listen, jot down the most confusing or abstract ideas you hear — the kind you might not immediately understand the first time you hear them. Another one, labeled Curiosity says, While you listen, write down anything that piques your curiosity. What do you want to explore more? Do you hear something new or unexpected? I have always found that when I give students something specific to listen for (or a particular purpose), they are more likely to listen.
Care about something real!
A trend I observed this year is that many of my students had overreactions to small things. Someone cutting in line resulted in shouting and shoving. A soccer foul at recess resulted in fist fights and suspensions. Inversely, whenever I wanted my students to care about something (i.e.: trying their best on an assignment, decorating a poster for the classroom), I had students put forth very little effort. They did not seem to care about the quality of their academic work or whether they received a low score on a test. This summer, I want my students to recalibrate their priorities. I realize that much of school is deemed important, but does not really matter (arbitrary assignments, artificial boundaries, points and grades, etc.). However, there are things I think my students could do a better job caring about. If they want to be successful, they will need to understand that hard work is something they should care about. Arnold Schwarzenegger says, “If there is one unavoidable truth in this world, it’s that there is no substitute for putting in the work. Working your ass off is the only thing that works 100 percent of the time for 100 percent of the things worth achieving.” There will be many times in life when you need to need to roll up your sleeves, experience some discomfort, and work hard. No one is going to hand you anything.
While I cannot force my students to care about the same things I care about, I do hope they take time this summer to figure out what is important to them. During our morning Family Meetings, I have heard students talk about how much their friends and families mean to them. I do not expect students to treat everything with such care, but I do want them to understand that apathy might be an easy path to follow, but it is dangerous, leading to withdrawal, detachment, and depression. Indifference only begets more indifference.
What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness. Those moments when another human being was right there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded … sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly. … As a goal in life, you could do worse than try to be kinder.
Leaving elementary school is an important a rite of passage. It does not matter much what we call the ceremony; whether the piece of paper I hand them is official or not. It does not even matter what I say to my students. What matters is that we are gathered in community to celebrate each other. I want our commencement/continuation/convocation ceremony to be a place where we celebrate each other’s humanity and recognize that we spent the school year learning together. It was messy. I am an imperfect teacher. Not all of the lessons were successful. I did not teach everything I was supposed to. Students could have cared more or tried harder. But in the end, we were human together. As one life chapter ends and another one is set to begin, I wish nothing but the best for my students, especially the ones who drove me crazy. If there is any wisdom I can give my students, it is this: our world needs more human kindness, more human empathy, more human art, more humans working together. Much of school is transactional, and if we let it, school can chip away at our humanity. We cannot let it dehumanize us. Life is not a zero-sum game. The more you give, the more you receive. Give freely. Give generously. Give selflessly.
Have a great week!
— Adrian
Don’t let your fellow humans be alien to you... We are far more frequently each other’s shelter and correction, the antidote to solipsism, and so many windows on this world.
Resources
The Harvard in Thoreau | The Harvard Gazette
I found this article in The Harvard Gazette fascinating! I knew Thoreau graduated from Harvard. I did not realize that it was in his Commercial Spirit of Modern Times commencement speech where he spoke on themes that he would later expand on in Walden. Did you also know Thoreau refused to pay the $5.00 fee to receive his master's diploma?
The Best Commencement Speeches, Ever | npr
This site is over 10 years old, but if you are looking for some inspiration, npr has curated over 350 commencement speeches, organizing them by name, school, date, or theme. They even have included videos when they are available.
The Best Graduation Speech Is One Nobody Remembers | The Atlantic
This piece, written by Ian Bogost, is worth the price of admission! He says, “A good commencement speech is not aimed at posterity, proffered to everyone for all time. Instead, it is a temporary moment in which a speaker brings a community together in the moment they share together, and which evaporates immediately thereafter.” I love how Bogost argues for making commencement entirely about the achievements of the students, not the brilliance of the orator.
Next Semester: Do Less That Matters More | Inside Higher Ed
I keep returning to this piece by John Warner for Inside Higher Ed. In fact, I have Do less that matters more taped to my home office desk. In this article, Warner discusses how meaningful instruction does not always mean adding more. Making a lesson more meaningful is not about adding technology or “fun” worksheets. In the design world, this is called feature creep, where engineers and designers continue adding unnecessary functions that can add “expense and complexity to otherwise straightforward products.” Warner reminds me that meaningful is more important than efficient standardized pedagogy.
I have shared this video in a previous Top Five post. I love this video because I adore John Green. I realize there is much debate in neuroscience about whether listening is the same as reading. For me, the sweet spot in my dyslexic brain is listening to a well-narrated audiobook while following along in the physical text. John Green says, “A great narrator can bring a book to a new kind of life.” Yes!
I watch a lot of commencement speeches this time of year. I am not sure how I missed this 2016 address by Donovan Livingston, a master's candidate at Harvard University. As soon as I finished listening, I immediately ordered his book, Lift Off: From the Classroom to the Stars.
Whenever I felt uninspired, I watched a video by CJ Reynolds. His Teach Your Class Off YouTube channel is filled with tons of great (and FREE!) resources. In this video, Reynolds reflects after his first full year teaching in New Mexico. He talks honestly about burnout, saying yes to too many things, classroom systems, lesson planning rhythms, grading, parent communication, and the small changes that can make teaching feel sustainable again.
To commence in the arts.