Tradition

In “Fiddler on the Roof” Tevye struggles with the blurring of traditional roles and choices for his children. Why must we keep doing what was done by previous generations? Tevye answers in song ,”Tradition!”

This past weekend I participated in a ceremony that is hundreds of years old – commencement. The end of a period of academic study, it is seen as not only the conclusion of one phase in the student’s life, but the beginning of another. So why would a 54 year old surgeon fly back to Boston from Los Angeles, to dress in medieval academic garb, and stand in the sun with 4000 others for several hours.

Tradition!

The commencement ceremonies at Harvard Yard predate the founding of this country. And from the initial class of 9, certain consistencies have been passed from generation to generation. Bagpipers escort the classes through the various gates surrounding the central yard, undergraduates congregate to the left, graduate students to the right, with the oldest schools situated closer to the stage. The President and Fellows arrive, wearing the traditional garb of their home doctoral institutions. To begin the ceremony, the Sherriff of Middlesex County, as he has for over 3 centuries, approaches the lectern and bangs a silver tipped cane three times, calling the meeting to order. Three speeches are given, from memory, by two undergraduates and a graduate student. The first was in perfect Latin (a variation of “Wheel of Fortune.”) With specific scripting, each school is asked to rise, and the President bestows the degree en masse. Symbols are waved by each class – gavels for the lawyers, angel wings for theology, stethoscopes for the med school. We in Public Health were given plastic fruit.

The awarding of the honorary degrees was a bit more light hearted, the provost introducing each honoree as if it were a game show. The high point was when Placido Dominigo, after receiving his degree, sang the citation to Justice Ruth Ginsberg, herself an avid opera fan.
The Sherriff, still regal in a top hat and tails, again banged three times, and dismissed the meeting.

On the streets of Cambridge, several of my classmates and I were stopped by a group of Japanese tourists, who wanted their pictures taken with us in full dress. I must admit it was a little strange.

In the afternoon, we did the walk across the stage to receive our copy of the Declaration of Human rights. All of the School of Public Health was present, and after another set of addresses, the 480 names were dispensed with fairly efficiently.

In the crowds afterwards, my classmates all dispersed to meet family and friends. No real chance for a formal goodbye. I turned in my gown (kept the tassel, I guess for the rearview mirror), and picked up my diploma. More than 25 years since I last graduated from a formal program. The same sense of accomplishment, perhaps a bit more pragmatism, and a bit less uncertainty. And I wondered what to do next.

When my middle child, Adam, graduated from Hamphshire College, there were no caps and gowns, the diplomas were a circle and you were identified by the year that you entered, not graduated, signifying the beginning of lifelong learning. A tradition reflecting the nature and values of this innovative institution. At Wesleyan, my oldest son, Ben, walked with his classmates down the hill between rows of faculty who formed the entrance to the field and applauded the graduates. I will feel intense emotions next year when Rachel graduates from Hopkins.

Traditions may not make great sense in a modern world. In reality, our transcripts are all electronic, and the diploma could be sent as a pdf file. Yet we as humans do things that aren’t always rational, but give us a sense of continuity. Perhaps it is our own way to assure a degree of immortality – continue the traditions of those who raised us and are no longer here, hope that our children and grandchildren will remember us through traditions after we are gone.


It’s been a while since my last post – finishing school and some new work projects have kept me busy. But I look forward to sharing with you more perspectives on Haiti and Hospital Sacre Coeur – Rachel and I will be travel there in mid June for a week.

Now there’s a tradition I hope will endure…