â€œEverybody listen upâ€, said the principal, as we were all in a group waiting to hear what was next on our road to graduation. It was the morning of May 27, 2003, the day of our class commencement ceremony. My best friend Kevin and I were already late because of downtown traffic and the new Mcgriddle biscuit at McDonaldâ€™s. We had to go to the bottom half of the coliseum, which was a new experience for me and Kevin. We had been to plenty of Lizard Kings and Tomcats games. But we always were sitting up in the nosebleed section of the coliseum. The previous night we sat close to the balcony for our friend Coreyâ€™s graduation from Fletcher.
Once our class lined up a single file line, we were allowed to enter the floor, where all our assigned seats were located. There up against the wall was a list of all the names of the students, and next to the names where letters of where each person was allowed to sit. I stood there talking to Kevin while everyone was pushing and shoving each other to find out where their section and seat was. After we found our names and located our seats, the principal got up on the stage and started giving us his speech about how the night is going to go. Nobody was actually paying attention to him; everybody was talking amongst themselves, even though what he had to say was probably important.
To get things going quickly and smoothly, the principal had us rehearse walking up to the stage and practice receiving our diplomas, while the valedictorian was also practicing her speech. When everyone was finished walking up to the stage and back down into their seats, the principal gave one last boring talk before he let us go for the morning. He said, â€œNow students, whatever youâ€™re thinking about doing tonight at the graduation, stop and think about it. I would like for you to tell the people youâ€™re inviting, family, friends, whoever they mi