Debra Hawhee posts a reflection on the joys of commencement and I want to second that message with some thoughts on the ceremony we held this weekend for English majors. Amid the daily detail work and grunge labor of academia, these moments make it all worthwhile. This semester is the first time in my eight years at UNC that I have taught English majors--I've been teaching first year composition courses and seminars, education classes, business writing, teacher training, anything but literature courses for English majors. But what a blast I have had in the Literature and New Media course. It made me reflect on my own bacehlor's in English and what it has meant to my life.

We also did a lot with images in this literature class, so I took inspiration from that to craft some of the remarks I gave this weekend to our graduating seniors. I paste a version of them below.

I’d like to ask your indulgence for brief experiment in visualization. I’d like you to think about the way our minds move between looking at the details in life and taking in the bigger picture. On the computer if you are working with images, there is a function that helps you switch between looking at the details and seeing the bigger picture, the magnifying glass or zoom tool. Think about a well-known image like Monet’s painting of lilies and clouds. Zoom in on Monet’s lilies, and you see some leaves and yellow flowers; zoom in more and you see merely the paint blobs, built up into hard-to-recognize shapes. Recall this painting or some other favorite image and zoom in, then zoom out. See a small detail and feel the zooming effect.

They say that verbal learners, like language-focused English majors, tend to hone in on the details—this passage, this sentence, this word. It’s what makes us great readers. So now we’re into the most minute of details, the last semester, the last month, the last hours. So before you leave English, we’re going to complement all that verbal and language learning with one last lesson, a lesson in visual learning—we still have six minutes to teach you something and we don’t want you to go away without getting your money’s worth. So start with this afternoon, or this weekend—the splotch of paint. Then zoom out to the semester—the yellow flower. And then zoom out to see the image of the lilies on the water—your career here as an English major.

Now the real tricky part. Imagine zooming out fifty years from now and walking up to a larger picture framed and hanging on some museum wall. Now imagine what the image would be like if it were missing the lilies, or even the yellow flower. If, instead, there were merely a dull pond or an empty space. What seems like a small detail, a brief moment in zoom mode contributes to the entire image when we zoom back out. And so, I ask that you don’t doubt that what is happening today and what has just happened in your years with us will continue to color and shape you as you pencil in the bridges on your horizons and figures in your lives. And I ask that you remember your zoom tool works both ways. As you move forward, take some time now and then to zoom back in and remember these teachers, these moments, and these friends. We’re honored to be among the important details of your lives. Now go out and continue filling in your canvas. Congratulations.