ON and on they came, the Class of 2013, marching across the platforms in three different locations, pressed into use to facilitate the graduation ceremonies for UWI, Mona.

They assembled variably at “The Tent”, a huge semi-permanent structure which, decorated and adorned, accommodated proud graduands, family and friends. Others crammed into the Assembly Hall, which once seemed so imposing, but today is becoming dwarfed by more impressive additions to the campus. The Social Sciences Lecture Theatre was the third location. All three were utilised for the season of ceremonies, from Friday through Saturday, last weekend.

Remember when our now-departed journalist colleague taunted UWI, Mona, with the label of “intellectual ghetto”? It doesn’t matter now. Approximately 3,400 men and women have been added to the alumni of the University of the West Indies, ranging across the Caribbean — from Mona, Jamaica; to Cave Hill, Barbados; and St Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago — pulled together under the enigmatic motto: “Oriens Ex Occidente Lux”, translated “A light rising from the West”.

Mona, the seminal institution, is no longer the only centre of attraction. All three campuses carry their own weight. Chancellor Sir George Alleyne, one of the early Mona men, trained in medicine and now a global personality for his contribution to the international health sector, revealed in his address to the graduating groups, that of the 16,277 students registered at Mona, eight per cent are non-Jamaican Caricom nationals, a far different ratio than when the university began 65 years ago.

His message to the Class of 2013 not only featured the standard graduation exhortation to go forth and do well, but laid emphasis on the requirements of the current age, in particular, the cost of tertiary education and the challenges of producing “the human capital needed in the Caribbean”. He lauded the trend towards advanced degrees and research-driven studies, declaring that it is from graduates in the postgraduate research stream that the UWI intends to draw many of its future staff.

Among the many nuggets of statistical information and context of the Class of 2013 was the welcome news for those who had been awaiting it that the scales have tipped somewhat regarding the number of men to women registered to study at Mona. The news is that “the percentage of males, at 25.6 per cent, is the highest it has been in several years, and the trend is an upward one”. Of these, there were 2,503 attaining undergraduate degrees and 729 postgraduates. The majority of graduates were in the social sciences (754), with medical graduates next with 411.

Besides these and other facts and figures to be taken seriously, there were the human touches which come with occasions such as these. At the start of his address, the chancellor asked the audience of eager family and well-wishers for their co-operation in the way they responded to the announcement of each graduate on their way to receiving the precious certificate. Over-loud and over-enthusiastic cheering for individual graduands has become less of salutation and more of inconsiderate behaviour, to the point where the names of some grads are drowned out by overlapping screams and shouts of joy, depriving some of the pleasure of hearing their names announced.

So, the chancellor asked for restraint when cheering time came. Last Saturday morning, when social science graduates were being recognised, the request was honoured, for a while at least, until the enthusiasm could not be “held down”. One lady could bear it no more. When her offspring made her way to the platform, she let fly at the top of her voice: “That’s my daughter,” she proclaimed, good and loud. The assembly joined in sympathetic laughter. Everyone could imagine the emotions going through the proud mother’s mind, a reprieve from facing student loan repayments and the anxiety for her offspring’s future in the uncertain job market in a time of economic downturn. She might have been unique in her response, but had the same emotions as any other proud parent.

Graduation is an occasion for quite literally putting one’s best foot forward. This is a time for female style and fashion. This year may well go down, however, as the season of dangerous footwear, the year of monster shoes. As Jamaicans, we cannot resist style, even when it brings pain and suffering. If it is in “vogue”, we have to have it, suitable or not. And who is to be the arbiter of appropriateness? This year, what passes for fashionable shoes has become downright perilous. Thick, heavy platform soles and heels of impossible heights might make fashion catalogues, but it is a different story manoeuvring up and down the steps of a stage, challenged by the nervous excitement accompanying the rite of passage.

As one proud graduate after another teetered and tottered across the stage, you either had to commend courage or condemn stupidity, as heels wobbled, leaning perilously close to the carpet, thrown out of kilter by the wearer’s weight. Signs of discomfort were evident. Style also brought a “wear your size” challenge, but on and on our brave women marched, defying pain and suffering. “Society demands sacrifices,” says the creed of fashionistas, and ours were no exception.

The clinging “bandage dresses”, the latest style of close-fitting designs, made of elasticated fabric which had a subversive tendency to creep upwards, testing the bounds of modesty, forcing many wearers to clutch at swiftly retreating hems, hoping to stop them at the pass before propriety was breached, were on show. I have it on good authority that forewarning of these sartorial perils and dangers were the topic of pre-processional briefings, but style is style, even when it “spoil”. When we make up our female minds to get the hot look, inconvenience is not a consideration. When it comes to dress-up, our women will not be deterred. So, academic gowns did overtime, concealing what could have been revealing. It was all in the game.

We may yet come to further applaud that spirit of determination, which will be well needed as our newly graduated go out to face the perils of the job market. Yes, it is going to be rough, but who among us hasn’t heard of “Doctor bud a cunny bud…hard bud fi dead?” If ever there was time for courage, it’s now.

‘Nuff’ respect to friends of mine for being among the chosen few receiving Honorary Doctor of Letters from the UWI, for their contribution to the arts and related fields of intellectual endeavour. I salute Noel Dexter and Valerie Facey, who have been so favoured. On Saturday morning too, another friend, Burchell Whiteman, received from the University of Technology, the Honorary Doctor of Laws degree in the ceremony held at the National Arena. All three share a common bond — civilised, caring and conscientious. You can’t ask for more than that.

gloudonb@yahoo.com