After many long months of agonizing online study, my son completed the courses needed (plus the community service component) to qualify for his preparatorio degree from UVEG. This would be the equivalent of a high school diploma.
Since I’m always looking for a reason to celebrate, I decided we needed a cookout and cake to honor this momentous event. We opted not to invite anyone other than his favorite aunt for a variety of reasons, including the fact that infections are higher in the last week than they have been any time since WHO declared a pandemic.
My son was Mr. Poopy Face the entire day leading up to the Zoom ceremony. He did NOT want to sit in front of his computer for the 2 hours estimated this thing would take. He did NOT want to wear “formal” clothing as indicated on the procedure email. He did NOT want to fix his hair so that he resembled something other than a caveman. In his opinion, this whole thing was STUPID. Why couldn’t they just send him the diploma and be done with it?
I decided to carry on with my little celebration anyway. Early in the morning, we headed to the butcher and the baker (but not the candlestick maker) and bought scrumptious edibles to be enjoyed post-zoom call. I also spent the day cleaning because it was WAY overdue and if I was going to have someone over, I didn’t want her to wrinkle her nose at how lax I’d become with my regular chores. Vanity, I know.
My son signed onto the Zoom call as directed. The FB live link was given about 10 minutes into the process. I hurried and shared with friends and family and signed on myself. There was a lot of blah blah from people that we certainly didn’t know. One lady went on and on about how we are all boats and that as graduates we have reached the port. Eye-rolling stuff, let me tell you. I saw my son for two or three milliseconds when they cut to full screen mode. Those that were graduating with honors from UVEG had their own “We Are the Champions” photo montage. Then everyone raised their right hand and swore to use their education for good, not evil (or something along those lines). Finally, random photos of what seemed to be UVEG teachers started to roll with some rave music. At that point, I signed off, thinking it was over, which technically it was.
Ten minutes later, my son emerged from his room and said that I missed the guy who announced he had to poop, the women in the green dress that blended into the greenscreen and looked just like a floating head and hands, and the students who were gleefully showing their bottles of alcohol getting ready to celebrate. Oh well.
My son received an emailed certification of attendance for his time and effort. Supposedly he’ll receive his official diploma by the end of the month. I’m not sure what that will entail, whether we will need to submit further documentation, print it out and take it to the local UVEG office for the official seal, or have his picture attached–but I’m sure it will be a whole day event.
Surviving Mexico 