{"id":4253,"date":"2014-07-20T18:37:48","date_gmt":"2014-07-20T18:37:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/athenedonald\/?p=4253"},"modified":"2014-07-20T18:37:48","modified_gmt":"2014-07-20T18:37:48","slug":"llongyfarchiadau","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/athenedonald\/2014\/07\/20\/llongyfarchiadau\/","title":{"rendered":"Llongyfarchiadau!"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u2026or ‘Congratulations’ in English. Up and down the country this is the time of year for graduation ceremonies. Proud parents, wider family and friends go along to watch their loved ones briefly smile and shake the (Vice)Chancellor’s hand, or something along those lines \u2013 such as being doffed with a hat made from John Knox’s breeches, according to tradition at Edinburgh University. Subsequently, either sweltering in unaccustomed heat or cowering under umbrellas according to our unpredictable weather, formal and informal photographs are snapped and, finally, sad partings from friends take place. Graduation. A day that means so much to so many but rather little to some others. My impression is that my generation tended to be in that second camp, but now that I see graduation from different angles (see here<\/a>) I feel rather differently about the process. For many students and their families this is a day wreathed in smiles, relief and emotion.<\/p>\n

Universities are not in the business of teaching deportment, nor fashion sense or how to pose for a photograph. For the duration of the taught course that is usually adequate and appropriate, but there comes a point, at this final juncture of Graduation, when this absence of relevant tuition may show! For that brief moment when each student has their moment of glory as they walk up to the podium, all eyes are upon them. Now I don’t wish to draw any parallel with the ‘catwalk’ that is Downing Street, either in the Daily Mail’s original version<\/a> commenting on dress, marital status and other factors totally irrelevant to ministerial duties of the women involved, or the New Statesman’s<\/a> and Guardian’s\u00a0 <\/a>responses discussing the sartorial elegance of the endless variants of the navy blue-suited male ministers. Nevertheless it is impossible to sit on a graduation platform and not consider the characteristic appearances of male and female graduands alike.<\/p>\n

This week I was at Swansea University (Prifysgol Abertawe), honoured to be awarded an Honorary Degree, a ceremony mainly carried out in English but with distinctly Welsh overtones. I was told, being Welsh, they wanted to include the powerful trio of poetry, prose and music. The poetry was in Welsh and English; the music was show music, although the Welsh National Anthem was also sung. This is a wonderful tune, familiar to me (I suspect from footage of Rugby matches), but few people seemed to know the words. Additionally some of the formalities were carried out in Welsh and the programme itself was printed in both languages.<\/p>\n

From my vantage point of sitting on the platform watching the hour-long stream of students walk onto the stage and off again, let me offer a few words of advice to those still to graduate (or coaching them), keeping them as gender-neutral as I can.<\/p>\n