This evening, the 102nd Wickliffe High/Upper School graduating class will walk across the stage and receive their diplomas.
It will be an occasion for celebration and reflection, as it always is.
I wouldn't normally attend this commencement, as all five of my kids have already graduated, but I'll be there tonight in a working capacity. I have the distinct honor and dread of being the person whose job it is to announce the graduates' names.
Look, I'm not shy when it comes to a microphone. I've announced hundreds of sporting events from the youth level to the minor leagues. I've done freelance MC work for corporate events. For some years I was the superintendent/MC for our church's annual Bible school. The announcing/hosting thing is what I do.
This is different. I always try to be perfect when I'm on the mic, but with a soccer game, for example, there's some leeway if you mess up a kid's name.
Not so with graduation. Each of those young people in the caps and gowns will have several friends and family members in attendance cheering them on and recording the moment on their phones for posterity.
The person who announces their name has one shot and one shot only to get it right. Botch it and the kid's parents will be stewing over the memory years later.
This is the first year I've taken on this assignment. Recently I talked it over with Ryan Beeler, the person who handled the reading of names at Wickliffe commencement for many years before me. Ryan is an articulate guy and an excellent teacher and football coach. He knows how to speak to large groups of people.
But when I brought up the fact that I was taking his place (as he is now teaching at another school) and asked him for any advice, the first thing he said was, "Oh man, I hated it."
He didn't hate commencement, of course. He hated the pressure of getting 100+ kids' names right at one of the most important moments of their lives.
I'm right there with you, Mr. B.
Still, I wasn't especially nervous about this until a month ago when I was talking with a soon-to-be Wickliffe graduate named John Colacarro. John is a funny, bright, highly accomplished kid who has achieved a lot in his high school career and will achieve a lot in whatever he chooses to do in life.
I casually mentioned that I would be reading names at commencement, and he jokingly told me, "Make sure you get mine right!"
I laughed. I've known Julie, one of John's moms, for decades. I was saying "Julie Colacarro" long before John was ever born.
Except I always said it the way most Wickliffe people said it: "col-uh-CARE-oh."
Turns out that's wrong. Dead wrong. John informed me it's actually pronounced "cola-CAR-oh." "Cola," as in the beverage, middle syllable "car" like the vehicle rather than "care."
I'm sorry, what? How did I never know that?
More to the point, he's one kid out of dozens whose names I'll be tasked with announcing. What other pronunciation traps await me tonight if I can't instinctively nail the one I thought I was most familiar with?
To be fair, I'll be attending commencement practice this morning, and I'll have the chance to ask each graduate personally how to say their names correctly.
But I won't lie: I'm already sweating this one out. No one will be more relieved tonight when the last kid gets his/her diploma and they all toss their caps into the air.
It will give me just enough time to run home and avoid the angry mob of families whose names I've butchered.