For better or worse (the worse being how fast it happened), weeks/years/aeons of preparation came together Friday night, and Alison graduated, looking just radiant and terribly, terribly grown up.

:::sigh:::

I didn’t cry, not really- got a little misty, but nothing too bad. The one thing that would have really, truly killed me was kept to a bare minimum, and the elephant in the room was hardly mentioned at all, which, IMHO, was a huge mistake.

See, Ali belongs to the “Katrina Class-” the ones with the unique distinction of having just started freshman year when the storm hit and ripped things apart. She’d had exactly one week of school before the hurricane, spent at a Texas dude ranch/retreat, of all things.

It was McGehee’s annual getaway for incoming girls to go off and discuss what’s in store for them as highschoolers, generally bond and start figuring out what kind of young women they want to become.

For Alison, this was especially huge. She’d chafed under the thumb of a rigid group of friends, ending her 8th grade year a very unhappy girl and deciding to make big changes.

The retreat was a perfect launching pad and she made the most of it. Upon her return that Friday evening Ali bounced off the bus, laughing and hugging new friends. She was happier than I’d seen her in a long time, excited and looking forward to new adventures.

Well, maybe not starting on Monday, though. “We’ll probably get it off!” girls squealed like Yankee kids at the idea of a snowstorm.

36 hours later we were in a car, fleeing ahead of the massive storm, desperately searching over 500 miles of highway for a hotel room. School wouldn’t open for another 8 weeks and much of the class wouldn’t come back at all, having lost everything. The ones who did come back were never the same.

Oh sure, the returnees were brave. Their youthful resiliency was inspiring, and by helping the city, the girls helped themselves as everyone around them clawed their way back to sanity a bit at a time.

But none of them were the same as they were, and who knows who these girls would have turned out to be without the hurricane. They’d have been more innocent, surely. Still able to believe that things will turn out alright simply because they ought to. But maybe not so tough, or so aware that a single person can make a huge difference in the world.

But, no, these weren’t the things that were addressed at the graduation. There were brief speeches about far less consequential things, assurances that they were good kids, bright girls, with fantastic futures ahead of them. Lots about the history and tradition of the school itself. Some good-natured roasting of habits, and even a little narcissism from the valedictorian. Tosh, the majority of it, generic things that could be said of most graduates, in most places. Therefore: few tears.

They deserved better- they took lemons and made lemonade, managing to make it sweeter than anyone could’ve imagined. They’re amazing, these Katrina kids, and they’ve provided their elders with an excellent example, and credit should have been given.

Again, just IMHO. If you could toss that elephant out of the room? It was a gorgeous night, filled with gorgoeous young ladies who are gonna go out and kick the world right in the ass.

After all, they’ve already done it once, as powerless 13 year olds- just think what they’re gonna accomplish as adults.

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