The week after the Orieladelphians, 9th September, Diana and I had to get up early and join the commuters into London. Horrible thought! It was Eleanor’s degree day at UCL. She was getting her PhD, although she has been called “Doctor” since her thesis was accepted. We didn’t have to queue very long for train tickets at the machine, were straight onto a train where we got seats, caught the Northern Line from Waterloo to Warren Street and walked to the main quad at UCL precisely on time at 9.30, where we were met by Joe.
A few yards into the quad, Ellie was talking with another PhD, and I knew that before we were close enough to speak because they were both wearing the grey and red robes and black floppy hat. Photographs were taken.
UCL has a big quad and it was filling up with ‘graduands’ – people about to go through the graduation ceremony. Most of them were first degrees wearing boring black robes and mortarboards, but there was a noticeable smattering of grey-robed PhDs. Ellie had made us arrive in plenty of time, so we could take a slightly meandering course through the college, taking us past (and into) the Ladies and Gents, to the location for the ceremony. This was not in UCL itself, but in a very superior marquee on Bedford Square, about ten minutes walk away. We stood around outside the marquee for a while (more photos) then went in.
Near the entrance, the path diverged, going different ways round a bush. Graduands went one way and guests another. I am not entirely sure why they did this, because the paths joined up again on the other side of the bush and there was only one entrance to the marquee itself. Our tickets had allocated seating, and entitled us to a massively thick programme. Eleanor was in the front row of all the graduands. Diana, Joe and I were in the second row, right in front of the stage. Many rows of tiered seating rose behind us. The stage had steps at either side, two lecterns, a row of seating behind and another small block of seating to the left. I looked at the programme and found that it listed the names of all the graduands, what their degree was, and whether they had done especially well and got on the ‘Dean’s List’. I discovered the reason for the thickness of the programme: it contained all the graduands from all the UCL degree ceremonies taking place right through the Summer. This was the very last one, for the UCL School of Life and Medical Sciences – Division of Biosciences, and Ellie’s name was the fifth last in the entire book.
A big screen was showing various pictures of students and various uplifting messages about UCL and its alumni. At 10.15 we were called to order and a film was shown about the Alumni Network (a recruiting film for the graduands, clearly). This was followed by trumpets, not just a fanfare, but a short performance by Majestic Brass, all three of them. A mace bearer led the Academic Procession of the Faculty of Biosciences, who took the seats on and by the stage. The Vice-Provost (Research), Professor G David Price, gave a speech. Then we were down to business.
The graduands started to line up to the right of the stage, walking down from the back of the marquee. Evidently, Ellie was going to be right at the end. The Dean of the Faculty, Professor Mary Collins, announced the type of degree being awarded – Bachelor of Biochemistry, Biology and so forth. As each person walked up the steps on the right, they handed a slip of paper with their name on it to the Dean, who read it out. The person then walked across the stage, shook hands with the Vice-Provost and went down the steps to the left. There was no handing out of certificates. The system ensured that each person was announced with the right name and missing persons did not cause chaos. They timed it so that each was on stage alone with the Vice-Provost and got their moment of glory, but didn’t linger. Dean’s List graduates got a few more claps from the audience and a few more words with the Vice-Provost. In this way they worked efficiently through the graduands, never seeming to hurry people on, but never unduly delaying.
What struck us was the diversity of the graduates. UCL brands itself as London’s global university and the people there give weight to that claim. They were clearly from many nationalities and backgrounds. Everyone was in a minority of some sort in that community, even the classic ‘white caucasian males’.
After vast numbers of Bachelors, we got to the Masters, a much smaller number, less varied in ethnicity, but more varied in age. One or two had seemingly come to a Masters degree after a life spent elsewhere. And finally, the PhDs. After a heartfelt introduction from the Dean – she knew from experience how hard it was over three or four years, she said – each was introduced as ‘Doctor’. And near the end, we got to the PhD in Structural Biology, Doctor Eleanor Williams.
That felt good.
The academic faculty processed out; this time ‘academic’ included all the graduates. We met up with Ellie outside in the street and went back to UCL for photographs and a reception. We took a back way into UCL, ignoring a steward who tried to direct us to the main entrance, since we had earlier spotted a sign saying ‘Photographs’. Misleadingly, as it turned out; it took us to an empty room. We carried on through the building, heading for the quad, when we came across another sign saying ‘Photographs’ and joined a short queue. Ellie filled in a form whilst queuing, then went forward to have her photograph taken on her own. The photographer handed her a ‘degree certificate’ prop to hold, despite no such thing having been part of the ceremony. Then Joe, Diana and I joined her for a group photograph. The photographer printed out proofs on the spot (her camera had a wire connecting to a PC) and we went away. The queue by this time was longer, so we had judged it about right.
The reception offered champagne and what appeared to be a soft drink but turned out to be Pimms. There was a bar in the corner for refills and other drinks. There was a counter with stacked trays of Indian snacks, very tasty but not filling. We went out into the quad and stood around while Ellie took her robes back (they were hired, not bought). A group of Bachelors were photographed on the steps of the Portico, with the obligatory ‘throwing the hats into the air’ shot. There were several takes, and I doubt people got their own hats back, though I doubt as well that it mattered.
We went for a late lunch, a very respectable pizza, pasta or rice, and came home. Joe went straight back to Oxford, Ellie to see friends in her old UCL lab for coffee. Yeah, it did feel good.