Graduation Day
It’s strange how some days remain incredibly vivid in your memory, down to the smallest details, while at the same time feeling as though they belong to a completely different chapter of your life. My graduation at Georgia Tech is definitely one of those days. 🎓
I officially completed my MSc in Computer Science in December 2023, after several years of studying through Georgia Tech’s Online Master of Science in Computer Science (OMSCS) while working full-time as a Front-End Engineer. I’ve mentioned the program quite a few times on this blog, but I don’t think I ever managed to convey just how much of my life it occupied. Studying after work and spending entire weekends catching up on assignments gradually became such a normal part of my routine that, when the end finally arrived, it was almost difficult to comprehend that I didn’t have another deadline waiting around the corner.
And then, on December 16th, I got to graduate in Atlanta. In person. With the cap and gown and everything. 🤓
I had traveled all the way from Castelnovo ne’ Monti to Atlanta on my own, and spent almost a week there, which in itself felt like a small adventure. I had been to the United States before, of course, but there was something quite different about returning for an occasion that was so closely connected to years of effort, especially knowing that my experience of Georgia Tech up to that point had largely taken place through a computer screen.
One of the things I remember most fondly happened before the ceremony, when I went to pick up my graduation gown and the rest of the regalia from the Georgia Tech shop. People kept congratulating me, and I know this might sound like such a stereotypically American thing to be impressed by, but I found it genuinely lovely. There’s a certain openness in the way Americans celebrate other people’s milestones that can feel almost exaggerated when you’re not used to it, and yet I never had the impression that the excitement was merely performative. There was a real sense of collective anticipation, with so many people about to celebrate something they had worked towards for years, and for once it felt perfectly acceptable to be unapologetically excited about an achievement.
The morning of the ceremony was beautifully crisp, the sort of December morning that makes you very aware of the air on your face as soon as you step outside. I remember getting dressed, putting on the gown, and making my way towards the venue, surrounded by graduates and families who were all heading in the same direction. There were people everywhere, smiling, talking, taking pictures, trying to keep track of one another. I was there alone, so naturally my experience was a little different, but I didn’t feel quite as detached from it all as I might have expected.
In fact, I think that’s one of the things that made the day so special. I’d spent years studying remotely, often in the evenings after work, knowing there were thousands of other OMSCS students going through something similar without ever really meeting them. Suddenly I was physically surrounded by people who had shared a version of that same journey, even if we had never crossed paths before.
Everything at the ceremony was remarkably well organized, and once I found my assigned seat I ended up chatting briefly with the two graduates sitting next to me. We talked a little about our experiences in the OMSCS program, the kind of conversation that probably lasted only a few minutes and that I couldn’t reconstruct word for word now, but which I remember enjoying immensely. It’s funny how quickly you can feel a sense of familiarity with complete strangers when you realize you’ve all spent years dealing with the peculiar combination of intellectual curiosity, exhaustion, and sheer stubbornness required to finish a degree alongside a full-time job. 😅
And then, eventually, it was time to walk across the stage.
I was so nervous. I had spent years looking forward to that moment, and when it actually happened I was almost too preoccupied with doing everything correctly to properly take it in. I walked up, shook hands with the university representative, received my diploma, and made my way off the stage, all in what felt like a matter of seconds. I was so focused on the sequence of things that I completely forgot to turn around and wave!
Fortunately, my family was watching the ceremony through the YouTube livestream from Italy, including my uncle and cousin, so they still got to see me, even if only for that fleeting moment. I remember how happy they were, and knowing that they were following along from home made the distance between us feel a little less significant. I also discovered that plenty of other graduates hadn’t turned around either, which was reassuring because, seriously, everything happens so quickly that you barely have time to realize you’re graduating before you’re already walking off the stage. 😅
Once the ceremony was over, I was still wearing my cap and gown as I made my way around Atlanta, and that’s when something happened that I think I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Complete strangers kept stopping me to congratulate me, cheering as I walked past, and at one point there were even people honking their car horns in celebration. It was absolutely incredible, and I remember feeling almost overwhelmed by how openly happy everyone seemed to be for someone they didn’t even know. I realize there’s a cultural element to this, and that Americans tend to express their enthusiasm much more freely than we generally do in Italy, where an encounter like that with a stranger would be rather unusual. But knowing that didn’t make it feel any less genuine. If anything, there was something wonderfully disarming about being on my own, so far from home, and having all these people spontaneously share in my happiness without expecting anything in return. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that feeling.
There were official pictures taken as well, which apparently are still sitting somewhere in an archive while I continue my extremely important deliberations about whether I should finally buy them. Some decisions clearly require more time than a master’s degree.
But jokes aside, there’s something about that ceremony that I find difficult to explain without sounding a little sentimental.
When I graduated from university in Parma, it was during COVID, which meant I never really had the opportunity to experience a traditional graduation ceremony in person. Of course, the degree itself mattered far more than the celebration, and I was proud of that achievement regardless, but I think I had underestimated how much I wanted to experience that moment of closure, the chance to put on a gown, walk across a stage, and see years of effort acknowledged in a way that felt tangible.
Georgia Tech gave me that moment, although in a rather unexpected way. I was thousands of kilometers away from home, on my own in a city where I knew very few people, yet I was also part of something much larger than myself. The strangers congratulating me in the shop, the families gathering outside the venue, those brief conversations with other graduates, and my family watching from Italy all contributed to a feeling of belonging that I hadn’t anticipated.
Looking back at the years I spent completing the OMSCS program, I mostly remember the constant juggling of priorities, the weekends dedicated to coursework, and the satisfaction of gradually discovering areas of Computer Science I might otherwise never have explored in such depth. I certainly wouldn’t romanticize all those evenings spent studying after an already busy working day, because there were plenty of moments when it was genuinely exhausting. But I also know how much those years meant to me, intellectually and personally, and how much I enjoyed having something difficult and deeply interesting to work towards.
Perhaps that’s why I still think so fondly of that crisp morning in Atlanta. The ceremony itself lasted only a few hours, and my moment on stage barely a few seconds, but it gave a shape to all those much less memorable days of studying that had come before it.
I went all that way on my own, and somehow came home with a memory that feels wonderfully shared.
Anyhow, I’m very glad I made the trip. And I’m even gladder I decided to put on that cap and gown. ✨