The University of Texas at El Paso - UTEP Magazine

early 12,000 family members
and friends paid tribute to
the accomplishments of 1,550 graduates
during The University of Texas at El Paso’s
2008 winter commencement ceremonies.
For the first time in its history, UTEP
held three commencement ceremonies to
accommodate an increase in the number
of degrees awarded—as well as a growing
number of proud parents, grandparents,
children, family and friends who turn out
to celebrate alongside their graduate.
“This growth is a testament to the
success of our students in meeting the
high standards that we have set for them,”
says President Diana Natalicio. “To date,
nearly 89,000 students have earned their
degrees from this institution, as it grew
from the School of Mines to Texas College
of Mines, Texas Western College, and now
UTEP.”
Commencement marks the end of one
glorious achievement, but it also marks
the beginning of a brighter future.
“You have studied with us on a campus
where the dreams and the realities of
society—both here in the El Paso border
region and in the world beyond—are
sharply focused,” Natalicio says.
“Here, men and women from an
unusually wide variety of backgrounds,
ages, interests and cultures have learned
much from each other. And here each of
you has developed your special talents
and abilities. The world needs you
and your knowledge. Go out from this
commencement—this beginning—and
use what you have learned here to the
fullest.”
Graduation day to reflect
on family’s sacrifice
by Ramón Rentería
They whooped and hollered and laughed
and smiled a lot and cried a little.
They came from El Paso’s poorest barrios
and from neighborhoods so well-manicured
they look as if they belong in a magazine.
They came, too, from ranchos and humble
villages and interesting spots across el estado
de Chihuahua.
They arrived in polished Suburbans
and black Altimas and in pickups that
grandfathers use to haul stuff to the dump.
They gathered Saturday on the majestic
chunk of rock that is The University of Texas
at El Paso for a celebration flooded with tears
and joy—proof that anything is possible.
They all came: grandmamas, madrinas,
tias and abuelitas in well-pressed Sunday
church dresses, so many relatives that the
university had to break up the 2008 winter
commencement into three ceremonies for
more than 1,550 candidates for degrees.
If you looked close enough, you could spot
proud fathers strutting around, chests high,
like wrestlers. All the mothers in the audience
were super proud, too, but some worried
whether the neighbor would check on the
brisket.
In El Paso, the new college graduates
are not just cute 22-year-old coeds but
sometimes middle-aged husbands and wives,
mothers and fathers who quietly shoulder the
double load, working full time while chasing
that elusive degree.
And so on this special day we sit back and
reflect on all the good and bad advice we give
our children and how we wish we could take
back what we said about how they might
starve with that degree in art.
We remember how many times we’ve had
to postpone buying the skinny television set
for the wall to help buy a last-minute book or
to make another deferred tuition payment.
Mothers and fathers and grandparents
remember the many times they waited for
an hour and a half, sometimes longer, for
daughters or sons or granddaughters to finish
another class. Sometimes they waited in
the frigid winter and too many times in the
suffocating heat of summer.
They waited because of all the cars parked
in front of the house, only one works or
only one has all the paperwork. They waited
because they had no choice. They love their
children, and the goal of a college degree is
embedded in a family’s dreams.
No matter how many graduation
ceremonies you attend, out here it’s always a
thrill to see how many graduates are the first
in their family when UTEP President Diana
Natalicio asks for a show of hands.
Three audiences cried a little on December
13 because this annual ritual at what used to
be the little school on the hill symbolizes so
much hope for so many people of all ages.
In El Paso, every commencement, every
extra long journey toward a college education,
is always done con mucho sacrificio—with
tons of sacrifice.
Reprinted with permission from the
El PasoTimes
6 winter 2008