To dream the beautiful dream

June 12, 2003

Dear Pat,

Something Eleanor Roosevelt said turned up again and again the past few weeks. Our niece Darci's graduating class used the quote twice in the slogans and remembrances they painted on the paved hill behind the high school, a senior class tradition in Neosho. The words appeared again last weekend in Cincinnati as the school superintendent uttered them to send our nephew Kyle's school graduating class on their way to adulthood.

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams," Mrs. Roosevelt said.

She said a lot of things because she wrote a newspaper column that ran six days a week from 1935 until her death in 1962. This aphorism sounds nice and appropriate for graduation. But what did Mrs. Roosevelt really mean?

Graduation ceremonies haven't changed much since my last one 30 years ago. They are still dull. This one was a two-hour roll call of more than 600 names.

Fortunately there were moments of seemingly unintentional comic relief, as when the valedictorian with the 4.666 grade point average tried to convince the audience that he didn't know until just recently how well he was doing in school. Or when one boy climbing the steps to graduate stumbled and fell, and the woman handing out the diplomas hugged him consolingly on behalf of the entire arena.

When the ceremony was over, Kyle told us the boy had planned the pratfall, a budding Charlie Chaplin.

My sister and brother-in-law threw a graduation party for Kyle the next day, a luau with burgers and bratwurst and an inflatable palm tree. The high schoolers spent the party in the basement family room playing Ping-Pong and watching TV. The adults stood on the wooden deck behind the house sipping so-called adult beverages. More than a floor seemed to separate the two groups.

The night we arrived, Kyle's parents played us a video tape of him singing an original songs called "Empty Chairs" during the baccalaureate services. He has talent and thinks he could make it as a musician. His parents are proud of his ability, but they're sending him to Ohio State to learn a few things in case he wasn't meant to be an American Idol.

His parents grew up in families where dreams were leavened by the reality that this week's paycheck already had claims on it. Children of the Great Depression counted themselves fortunate to have work. We, their children, grew up with many more privileges -- cars, free time, and the kind of dreams California inspires. The newest generation has even more of everything, lives as speedy as their parents'.

For Kyle's younger sister Carly, who's heading into her freshman year, life is defined by her social calendar. I watched her maintain three instant messaging conversations on the computer while talking with a fourth person on the phone. She didn't talk to her grandparents or aunt and uncle much. That's how 14 is.

Her younger sister Kim is the fastest seventh-grade girl in Cincinnati, at least in the 400 meters. She also is trying to make the Olympic development soccer team. Now there's a dream. We took Kim to the movie "Bend It Like Beckham," in which a girl whose parents are from India rebels against them by playing soccer. Sometimes rebellion is the only healthy choice.

It's the believing that makes dreams beautiful.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.