Graduation Ceremony Goes off with a Bang

 Blam! Blam! Blam! The sounds of staccato gunfire rang loudly in the background. If you didn't know better, you'd think you were in Kharkiv, Ukraine or maybe the Southside of Chicago. It sounded like a war zone. But it wasn't a war zone. It was in the middle of our graduation ceremony on May 9th, a ceremony three years in the making. 

Covid had tabled the first two years' graduation ceremonies for the Calvin Prison Initiative (calvin.edu/prison-initiative) graduates, but finally we walked with a few family or friends in attendance. Three cohorts graduated with their bachelors degrees, and two with their associates. Every student was anxious with anticipation, not only for the ceremony, but also for the brief time allotted to spend with our family members and friends after the ceremony. 

Sadly, disgruntled corrections officers and administrative staff had other ideas. Some staff are disgruntled because they don't believe prisoners deserve anything good, even if it costs taxpayers nothing. Their attitudes reveal that "corrections" or "rehabilitation" is not their goal at all. Nevertheless, while they could not stop the ceremony from happening because the corrections director was in attendance, they certainly made their pettiness known. 

The loud, raucous gunfire that erupted from the nearby gun range in the middle of the ceremony came from some of the dozen officers who called in "sick" that day. The next day, they bragged and laughed about it at the officers' desk in the housing unit. They also bragged about how they'd planned on delaying the ceremony. A normal "count time," which occurs several times throughout a 24-hour period, takes roughly 30 minutes. But the morning of the graduation ceremony, count time took three times that long. Their second count time later that day also took three times the norm. 

After the ceremony, graduates were supposed to have 45-60 minutes to mingle with their loved ones, but because of the planned delays, we had less than 20 minutes. The officers' and administrators' petty plans robbed us of some of our anticipated joy for that day, but they couldn't take it all. 

Graduation day made dozens of prisoners and families proud, some prisoners being the first in their families to earn a college degree. They couldn't take that accomplishment. One of the two keynote speakers, fondly known as Mother Jerline, gave a profound talk about authentic forgiveness, moving many hearts with her love. She was there to celebrate the graduation of her son's killer, a man she now calls her own son. They couldn't take that demonstration of God's radical grace at work. They also couldn't take the dozen or so positive news stories that resulted from that tremendous day, splashed all over the TV, newspapers, and internet. 

It's tempting to be angry about the pettiness on my graduation day, but then I remember my hero Malala Yousafzai. She persisted in her education despite being actually shot and having her life continually threatened. I suppose I can put up with the childish antics of corrections officers having a tantrum on a gun range.