Matriculation

I went to Columbine Elementary School. I went to Centennial Junior High. I went to Boulder High School. I went to the University of Colorado. Part of the wisdom behind these choices was simple: I could walk there from where I lived. I didn't take a bus. In high school, I sometimes rode my bike, and once I got that fine set of wheels, I drove. But there were plenty of bright fall days in my sophomore year when I hiked a couple miles, backpack slung over one shoulder, to and from those hallowed halls.
I bring this up because my niece once attended Columbine Elementary School. She also attended Centennial Junior High, even though it had become a Middle School by that point. She went to Boulder High. And she walked to those august institutions. On the first day of school, specifically. She and her father made the trip together, even that first day at the University of Colorado. They made that walk because, once upon a time, he made that same trek himself. Retracing that path of his youth, he paved the way for his daughter.
My older brother and I received our degrees from dear old CU. As sometimes happens, my niece didn't find her muse at the vast expanse of the campus at Boulder. She eventually found herself a spot at the Art Institute of Colorado, even though she had to take a bus to get there. Today she will receive her degree: A real and true Bachelor of Arts degree. In fashion. I'm only the tiniest bit jealous, since the only class I ever failed was a basic drawing class, and my own fashion sense runs primarily in the Hawaiian shirt, high top Converse category. She's got a career ahead of her if she wants to help me get my style together.
So have a seat, and rest your feet today, girl. It's been a long walk, but now that day if here. Congratulations!