Elizabeth C. Reilly

The early Hindu astrologers used a magnet—an iron fish compass that floated in a vessel of oil and pointed to the North. The Sanskrit word for the mariner's compass is Maccha Yantra, or fish machine. It provides direction, and, metaphorically, illumination and enlightenment. These essays began in 2006 in India. Since then, my work has expanded to Mexico, China, the European Union, and Afghanistan. Join me on a journey throughout this flat world, where Maccha Yantra will help guide our path.

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Location: Malibu, California, United States

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Commencement: The End of One Journey, the Beginning of the Next



Each educational endeavor we pursue has beginnings and endings. A student matriculates when s/he begins the course of study. When an individual completes that course of study from a university setting, one does not graduate. Instead, we proclaim the rite of passage unique to higher education, "Commencement." I have always loved this term. Commencement is a brilliant amalgam of the past and the future bound in a common moment. 


Although I no longer serve as a professor at my beloved former institution, Pepperdine University, I have had the privilege of continuing the journey toward Commencement with some of my doctoral students whose dissertations I chaired far before I left for my present institution, Loyola Marymount University. The role of a dissertation chairperson is perhaps as unique as the term "commencement" is to higher education. It is reserved exclusively for those of the professorate who oversee the work of doctoral level students. It is a sacred trust. It requires years of commitment from the Chair, or "Faculty Advisor," as well as from the candidate. The journey can result in a bond between the two that is forged for a lifetime.

The path of the dissertation is to a great degree a lonely one. A candidate completes the prescribed course of study for the doctoral degree and is then left in the hands of his/her Chair. To varying degrees, universities have support structures in the form of seminars or study groups to help a candidate through the dissertation, but principally it is the task of the Chair to serve as Virgil--the soothing voice of reason--to Dante--the individual on the journey.

The path does wend its way through the Inferno, through Purgatorio, and finally to Paradiso.

I often have said to my doctoral students, “In the midst of your pursuit of the doctorate, life happens.” It is life happening that can derail doctoral students from completing the dissertation. In the midst of my own dissertation, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I needed to care for her, I needed to continue to raise my then-only child, Anna, and I needed to run a school district. Clearly, each of these monumental challenges could have served as a reason to set aside the dissertation--to become one of the dreaded "ABD's" of the planet: a candidate who completes "All but Dissertation." Instead, I did what I counsel each of my students: use the challenge—the defining moment—to move you toward, rather than away from, commencement.


I must stress that the moment-by-moment decision to complete the dissertation is not without its perils. It is perhaps why I frequently hear commencement speakers or Deans or Presidents of Universities praise the family and friends. I have seen marriages end, as did my own when I undertook doctoral studies. Some of my students have faced the death of a loved one and challenges to their own health. On the other hand, some students have added marriage or the birth of their own children to the doctoral plate. Every imaginable life passage becomes a part of the tapestry in the pursuit of the doctorate. Some of these events are tragic; other joyous. But each one returns the candidate to the question of, "Will I complete the dissertation?" Frequently, the late-night conversations I have with my dissertation students are less about data analysis and more about our purpose on this planet. I have alternately been big sister, mother, coach, mentor, and psychiatrist, depending on the need and the moment. In the midst of doctoral education, life happens. 



On the occasion of this particular Commencement, the Graduate School of Education and Psychology, I had the opportunity to participate in the rite of passage of several of my former doctoral students. For me, their appreciation of my small role in their journey is exceeded only by the privilege I have of finally seeing them in the greater context of their lives--with their spouses, their children, their parents, and their friends.



I tip a toast your way, Dr. Donna Lewis and Dr. Carolyn Miller, for permitting me to serve not only as your professor, but also as the guide on the dissertation journey. I tip a toast also toward my many other doctoral students from years past, who did complete the dissertation and with whom I have celebrated. Each commencement is a reminder of those occasions of joy and of great accomplishment. In the midst of doctoral education, life happened. Let the new journey commence.