Popagandhi

Looking slightly unimpressed about graduating — the gown was HOT, the speeches were long, I was sleepy.

1. I’m home after a whirlwind tour of Kuching, Betong, Entalau; Barcelona, Roses, Aix en Provence, Marseille, Perpignan, London, Kuala Lumpur, Bangkok. Only so I could officially graduate. Or commence, as they like to say.
2. The people in the photo? They’re the reason I attended commencement (was going to skip it).
3. The gown and ceremony made me feel about 800 years old; my friends are planning a Harry Potter theme party with our gowns before we return them.
4. Europe made me so broke I can’t even renew my Flickr Pro account (buy me one — I will love you forever; or the next best thing, write you a thank you email). Thank you all for making sure my Flickr Pro will only expire again in 2010!
5. What’s next? Lots! And lots! And lots! I’m very excited about what’s next and you should too!

SMU graduates are consistently in high demand in the job market, as shown by the findings of a recent Graduate Employment Survey released in May 2008. For four straight years, 100% found jobs either before graduation or within six months after graduation. Two-thirds received multiple job offers and one in eight land jobs with high starting salaries of between S$4,000 to S$10,000 a month. Monthly salaries for the top 20% wage earners who achieved Cum Laude or better in their degrees average at about S$5,600. — SMU Press Release

The end of an era, that of higher education. I wasn’t valedictorian, far from it, with my shit grades, but instead of telling you how great my alma mater these are my not-so-famous last words. I’ve had some good times there. Some funny ones, some violently angry times, and when I wasn’t being amused or upset I spent my time hovering between being unimpressed and uninterested. I had my reasons; reasons I still believe justified, at least in my experience as a Bachelor of Social Science student within a management-oriented university (I wish this was satire but it’s such a true picture of what ‘university life’ was for me).

It was all about the people. Where my education failed to stimulate me intellectually, passed off mind-numbing banter for participation and speaking-up-ness, rewarded the tyranny of mediocre majorities (group projects for every single course?), and pretended GPA numbers, salary scales and the prestige of multi-nationals was the success to aspire towards, in running away from it I also got to meet a stunning number of amazing people who are now friends for life.

First, the memories: the long nights overnighting in Group Study Rooms (SMU=endless projects, endless mugging), skipping classes and meetings with my fellow slackers-turned-good-friends at Pick and Bite, going to class deliberately late to skip the ERP, walking groggily from Prinsep student residences to the School of Social Science, being a clueless freshie at the Bukit Timah campus… I found love and friendship, inspiration and delightful company. Somewhere between sleeping on a couch at the Red Door Gallery and my first morning trudging from a certain Evans Building GSR to brush my teeth, while students were streaming into Plural Perspectives, running off for nasi lemak breakfasts at Armenian Street and camping at the city campus library to start 3000-word essays 3 hours before they were due, I met talented musicians, would-be aviation experts, a best friend, lots of lovely ballsy-ness, outstanding humanitarian aid workers, brilliant Indian classical dancers, would-be chefs, writers, photographers, developers, comrades in the huge South Asian contingent, and other restless young upstarts who were, beyond their credentials, good and humble people. Even as the demographics of the student population moved towards absorbing increasing amounts of academically outstanding but rather… different (in the worst way possible)… students, there were the people I knew and loved: people who cared for the world and/or did well at school while ascending ladders, corporate or otherwise. Because in the end it wasn’t about how much I hated the school (a lot), how much I reviled the overwhelming institutionalized corporate culture of slavish overachieving for the sake of your CV. It was about meeting people there who, ultimately, changed me. Who, beyond the glossy Russell Wong photographs in our posters, beyond the cliche about how ‘different’ we are, touched my life in some way — by how different they turned out to be. Without ever having to proclaim it.

At some point, years ago, while munching on a bad lunch in the Botanic Gardens and/or hitting on girls, I still remembered why I chose to come here, over many other excellent options here and abroad. These reasons are no longer clear, but one thing is: the place was, at one time, a gathering ground for a disproportionate number of dreamers and achievers before we lost the plot. It let me meet young people who dreamed, dreamers who dared put their money where their mouths were, and their lives where their convictions laid. Whether it was running off to Jakarta between semesters to pursue elusive success in Indonesian rock, building communities in remote Sumatran islands, going to Nepal to do something about changing the types of stoves in a Himalayan village, pursuing dreams in public policy or chasing their loves halfway across the world, the friends I met there — whether or not they were successful in conventional ways, or successful at all — taught me how to live, and how to live it well; with plenty of teh breaks in between everything. Whether it was because I was exceedingly lucky or because I lurked about in the nether regions of the GPA scale, I’m not sure but these people inspired me, loved me, and taught me to dream. They were individuals selfless and brave, talented and humble.

It was my good luck to have enjoyed many drinks at Ice Cold Beer with you (the only perk at SMU: 30% off all beers at Ice Cold Beer if you show your matriculation card), and mid day excursions to Little India. And that, I will never regret: you were individuals beyond the numbers, beyond the $5600 expected salaries and 100% expected employment rates. I can only hope I was for you, even a fraction of what you did for me.