University students invest several years of their lives and thousands of pounds of their money in their education. When their course of study is complete, they feel a great sense of achievement accompanied by a desire to celebrate. How well do universities help them in this task. From my experience in England and Scotland, hardly at all. I have attended three graduations as a student, half a dozen as a member of academic staff, and three as a proud parent. I found that these graduations fell into three types:
1. Stuffy and self-congratulatory. This was my dominant experience of graduation ceremonies, from when I graduated with my masters degree from the University of Strathclyde, my social work qualification from the University of Stirling, and my PhD from the University of London (I didn’t attend the ceremony for my first degree). Also stuffy and self-congratulatory were the degree award ceremonies I attended as a member of staff at the University of Birmingham. All of these events shared a familiar British obsession with meaningless procedures (usually ‘traditions’ of recent invention), wearing funny hats, and a complete lack of fun. In each case, large numbers of students were processed at high speed, with no recognition of their individual talents, the promise they held for the future, or the fact that all the professors, vice-chancellors, administrators and so on depended for their income on the money these students brought into the university. The most memorable of these events was at the University of London. This took place in the splendid setting of the Albert Hall, and was chaired by Princess Anne, as Chancellor of the University. Graduands were supposed to bow to her when they paraded on the stage to receive their degree. Some churlishly refused, and in each case an amused smile appeared on her face. The dullest graduation ceremonies of all were at the University of Birmingham, but the Medical School did make up for this afterwards by holding a slightly more informal reception for graduands and their parents. One irritating feature of Birmingham’s ceremonies was the refusal to honour students who graduated with diplomas and certificates rather than degrees. The University of Stirling could do this, but Birmingham preferred to exclude this group of students (but take their money of course).
2. Utterly commercial. All of these graduations, however, were infinitely preferable to Nottingham Trent University (NTU), where my daughter graduated with a BA in Textile Design. The University imposed charges above her fees for all the materials she used in her degree, and then charged parents for attending the graduation ceremony. In other respects, the ceremony was exactly like the others, with a large hall, boring speeches, and an endless parade of graduands. There was a meagre reception afterwards. I suggest NTU’s administration have a chat with its academic staff teaching the degree in management and marketing to learn the concept of customer care.
3. Small and respectful. The best ceremony I attended was at Leeds University, where my son graduated with a BA in Politics. This was a small affair, limited to students in the same subject, and followed by a very friendly reception afterwards where staff, graduands and parents could meet over a buffet meal. I was pleased to find that the academic staff in the Department of Politics knew their undergraduate students well. The academic speeches were witty, and the several of the students cheered each other when they received their degree. My son went on later to the University of Leiden in the Netherlands, from where he graduated with an MSc in International Public Administration in 2011. I did not attend this ceremony, but I did see a video. This took place in the oldest building in the University, and, after the ceremony, graduands signed their name on its walls, next to centuries of previous graduates and honorary graduates. It must be nice to write your signature next to that of Albert Einstein. But what was particularly good about this ceremony was that each student’s academic supervisor made a speech outlining the subject of their dissertation and its contribution to knowledge.
I have seen pictures of graduations in other countries, which include parades of students through the local town, concerts, gigs, dances and general fun. This could happen here too, but it would need universities to recognise that their primary purpose is the dissemination of knowledge, and that they collaborate with students to achieve this, and that success in this task is grounds for real celebration. Of course, it also requires that the British middle class lose some of its dreary stuffiness and learn how to have fun.
1. Stuffy and self-congratulatory. This was my dominant experience of graduation ceremonies, from when I graduated with my masters degree from the University of Strathclyde, my social work qualification from the University of Stirling, and my PhD from the University of London (I didn’t attend the ceremony for my first degree). Also stuffy and self-congratulatory were the degree award ceremonies I attended as a member of staff at the University of Birmingham. All of these events shared a familiar British obsession with meaningless procedures (usually ‘traditions’ of recent invention), wearing funny hats, and a complete lack of fun. In each case, large numbers of students were processed at high speed, with no recognition of their individual talents, the promise they held for the future, or the fact that all the professors, vice-chancellors, administrators and so on depended for their income on the money these students brought into the university. The most memorable of these events was at the University of London. This took place in the splendid setting of the Albert Hall, and was chaired by Princess Anne, as Chancellor of the University. Graduands were supposed to bow to her when they paraded on the stage to receive their degree. Some churlishly refused, and in each case an amused smile appeared on her face. The dullest graduation ceremonies of all were at the University of Birmingham, but the Medical School did make up for this afterwards by holding a slightly more informal reception for graduands and their parents. One irritating feature of Birmingham’s ceremonies was the refusal to honour students who graduated with diplomas and certificates rather than degrees. The University of Stirling could do this, but Birmingham preferred to exclude this group of students (but take their money of course).
2. Utterly commercial. All of these graduations, however, were infinitely preferable to Nottingham Trent University (NTU), where my daughter graduated with a BA in Textile Design. The University imposed charges above her fees for all the materials she used in her degree, and then charged parents for attending the graduation ceremony. In other respects, the ceremony was exactly like the others, with a large hall, boring speeches, and an endless parade of graduands. There was a meagre reception afterwards. I suggest NTU’s administration have a chat with its academic staff teaching the degree in management and marketing to learn the concept of customer care.
3. Small and respectful. The best ceremony I attended was at Leeds University, where my son graduated with a BA in Politics. This was a small affair, limited to students in the same subject, and followed by a very friendly reception afterwards where staff, graduands and parents could meet over a buffet meal. I was pleased to find that the academic staff in the Department of Politics knew their undergraduate students well. The academic speeches were witty, and the several of the students cheered each other when they received their degree. My son went on later to the University of Leiden in the Netherlands, from where he graduated with an MSc in International Public Administration in 2011. I did not attend this ceremony, but I did see a video. This took place in the oldest building in the University, and, after the ceremony, graduands signed their name on its walls, next to centuries of previous graduates and honorary graduates. It must be nice to write your signature next to that of Albert Einstein. But what was particularly good about this ceremony was that each student’s academic supervisor made a speech outlining the subject of their dissertation and its contribution to knowledge.
I have seen pictures of graduations in other countries, which include parades of students through the local town, concerts, gigs, dances and general fun. This could happen here too, but it would need universities to recognise that their primary purpose is the dissemination of knowledge, and that they collaborate with students to achieve this, and that success in this task is grounds for real celebration. Of course, it also requires that the British middle class lose some of its dreary stuffiness and learn how to have fun.
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