A Look Back: Project Graduation 2000

Project Graduation. Many high schools throughout the country have instituted Project Graduation, an all-night, alcohol and drug-free celebration for graduating seniors. I partook in Project Graduation in 1995 during my senior year. And five years later, I found myself volunteering at another.

Let us set the stage... I had finished my student teaching assignment at East Catholic High School in Manchester, CT in early May 2000. I subsequently graduated from the University of Delaware in late May 2000. And when I returned from Delaware, I was assigned to St. Bridget's Parish in Cheshire. I had finally attained my bachelor's degree and could now concentrate on the road to the priesthood. Except, I had one more responsibility to my seniors... well, two. I had to attend graduation AND I had promised to volunteer at Project Graduation.

Graduation took place at St. Joseph's Cathedral in Hartford. In my suit and tie, I walked with the students and sat with them on the altar at the insistence of my mentor. The ceremony was awesome; I almost wished I had graduated within the Cathedral rather than on a football field. But I think the football field was more appropriate for me...

After graduation, I went to have dinner with my fellow teachers before heading to the health club for the night's festivities. At about 10 p.m. I found myself at the doors of the health club introducing myself to the parents. They put me to work. Carrying. Monitoring. Assisting with the sporting events. 'Hey, Mr. K' I heard at random from all directions. I had not realized that I had actually known about 95% of the entire senior class even though I had only about 50% of them in my classes.

The night gave way to morning. Those with unrelenting stores of energy continued with their antics on the wallyball and basketball courts. Those who had simmered were playing cards and ping pong. Still others had retired to the room where karaoke reigned. I decided to sit in that latter room. What a mistake.

'Mr. K, you gotta try it,' they pleaded.

'Nah. I've never done that before. I'll let you do your thing and then laugh at you.'

'Aw, c'mon Mr. K. For us.' A crowd began to form.

It was almost 3 a.m. I was tired. I threw caution to the wind and took the mike. The song? The Devil Went Down to Georgia. I knew it by heart. And it didn't really require singing per se. Just a whole lotta talking fast. I credit the old man with the fact that I know that song, because God knows it's about the ONLY country song I know.

I begin. Word for word. I'm keeping up. Until the line 'Fire on the moun boys, run boy, run'. I never get that one. I hear a few chuckles but keep going. I keep building the song. Even start swaying a bit - my imitation of dance. I'm getting into it. Talk-singing like mad.

After Johnny finished his fiddling, I spoke just above a whisper, 'The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat.' A little louder, 'He laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet.' Picking up steam, I sang matter-of-factly 'Johnny said: "Devil just come on back if you ever want to try again."' And then I let em have it, '"I told you once, you son of a bitch, I'm the best that's ever been."'

I missed by one word. And that one word had everyone - students and parents alike - staring at me in disbelief. The word? Gun. I said? Well, you know...