"Does the tassel go from left to right or right to left?"
"Right to left," your mother stammers, eyeballing you in your black cap and gown.
Your father, wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, and says, "Congratulations, I'm proud of you."
When the procession begins, you're caught off guard by your tears at hearing Pomp and Circumstance. Soon come the speeches and award presentations. You fidget as you listen to directives charging you to "find your passion," "reach for the stars," and "make the world a better place." Your parents fidget as they watch other parents' children receive Latin named honors like cum laude.
When your turn comes, your parents lean forward with their cameras, trying to capture you walking across the stage, shaking hands with the dean, and receiving your diploma. Years of work and mounds of debt are memorialized in about 10 seconds.
Afterward, there are more pictures, parties and goodbyes. Four-year-long friendships are sealed with a, "Stay in touch." You meant to have your room packed by now, but between last minute finals, papers and celebrations — it didn't quite happen. On this day, your parents' pride overshadows their frustration, and they patiently help you box up the last remnants of college life.
And sometime during this last day on campus, no matter how hard you try to avoid it — whether it comes innocently from an acquaintance or pointedly from a relative — the question is asked:
"So, what will you do now?"
How you wish you had the answer.
For some of your classmates, the immediate next steps are planned. They have lined up jobs or have been accepted to graduate schools. They have their answers ready. You, like so many others, do not. It's unsettling at times, petrifying at others.
Taking next steps will require courage, motivation and persistence at a time when you are vulnerable, overwhelmed and scared. Up until now, the sequence was clear: Kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school and college. But now you must begin a journey to an unknown destination without direction.
First, you are told, you need a resume. You try to highlight your strengths and accomplishments — yet you're in your early 20s. How strong and accomplished can you be? Nevertheless, with persistence and follow-through, you complete your resume, post it online, and send it to potential employers. You push yourself to make phone calls, update your online profile, arrange meetings and work connections. Your efforts eventually pay off; you land your first job interview.
You try your best to follow the rules: "Look them in the eyes." "Give a firm handshake." "Research the company." "Ask appropriate questions." "Smile." "Have a good answer ready if they ask, 'what's your greatest weakness?'" Still, you feel vulnerable as you transition from the unconditional acceptance of friends and family to the ultra-conditional eyes of prospective employers.
Later, lying in bed, you can't fall asleep without replaying interview questions, second-guessing your responses, and searching for clues that they liked you — that they will call you for a second interview; or, better yet, an offer.
Some do call. Some do not, in spite of your follow-up emails and phone calls. You delight in the call-backs, feel crushed by the rejections. You can't help but wonder, "What is wrong with me?" "Am I good enough?"
Loved ones offer platitudes of comfort, "It probably wasn't a good fit." "Someone else had more experience." "Your skill sets didn't meet their needs." "They decided to promote from within."
The reason does not matter. Nothing is wrong with you. You pump yourself up, send out more resumes, attend job fairs, search the web, and continue to network. You go on more interviews and gain more confidence. Eventually, you get a job.
And when you do, you remind yourself, entry-level means entry-level. Your first job is merely a snapshot of one type of responsibility; one type of industry; one type of culture; and one type of boss. You gain experience from it and grow. You can later choose to advance with that company or move on and explore other opportunities.
And through this process you are learning how to master the art of navigating through chaos, an integral life skill that will serve you well. Calm down. Enjoy the experience. Stay optimistic. Explore your options. This is your time. Take it. All too soon responsibilities mount, paths are carved, futures charted — choice is but a distant memory.
Laura Black (lauracelesteblack @gmail.com) is a local community leader, attorney and business woman. She is the author of "Big Butts, Fat Thighs, and Other Secrets to Success" (Cazco Press, 2012).