I've become a flagbearer for life. Walking through the faculty on Middle Path next May will be the sixth time that I have walked through them. Three convocations and two commencements thus far.
In a way, I'm sad. A professor told me this year that the procession is not merely about tradition but also about the individual quirks that make each march unique. Three of flag processions have paired me with Kar. I admit that there's something humorous about a pair of identical twins leading the faculty. The flags are twice our height. I once caught the American flag on a tree branch. I've learned to wear a miniskirt under the robes and to look backwards and watch for the professory emeritus of physics.
I've had many conversations with senior faculty with whom I have never had class. Today Mr. Lentz and I discussed Cahokia. In a way, I really do love this tradition. Carrying the flag is an honor and one of my favorite oddball traditions on a campus, superstitutious for the 8th floor Caples and the unsanitary post at the Gates of Hell.
Today was great.
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