April Fools: Buckets, T-Shirts, and Bad Decisions: A Graduation Redesign

Graduation is the most important moment of our college experience. However, it’s being held in Newell Field House for reasons that defy all logic. A place that feels less like a venue for marking the end of four years of hard work and more like a greenhouse where you’re meant to endure the slow suffocation of your dignity and personal space. Sure, it holds everyone—from parents who will take shotty photos to faculty members who also don’t want to be sweating—but is that really the best we can do? The air is thick, the seats are uncomfortable, and you’ll only remember how much sweat you didn’t know you could sweat in one sitting.  

So, let’s think bigger. Let’s move this thing to a location that embodies the spirit of St. Lawrence University seniors. A place that has been with us through all the highs and the lows. A place where the beers flow like memories and where traditions are made—The Hoot Owl.  

The Hoot isn’t just a bar; it’s an institution. Every Tuesday, the senior tradition of “Tuesday Blues” is born here, where buckets of Labatt Blue are served for $7.75, and everything feels right with the world for exactly two hours. It’s a space that has seen us at our best and has seen us at our worst. If that’s not a place worthy of celebrating the end of four years of questionable decisions, I don’t know what is.  

Here’s the plan: graduation should be held on the last Tuesday Blues of the year. It should run from 9 p.m. to 11 p.m. because, honestly, what better way to close out your college career than with a couple of cheap beers, a crowded bar and the faint, echoing cry of a song that was just about to play on the jukebox when you realized you were supposed to walk across a stage. Every graduating student should get a free bucket of Labatt Blue, the perfect send-off to everything we’ve earned over the last four years. Family members? Free single lime Rickey, naturally, because we’re not here to get drunk—we’re here to watch the chaos unfold while pretending to care about the speeches.  

The VIPs of the evening—those graduating with honors—deserve something extra. A double top-shelf drink of their choice is a good start, but let’s throw in a free t-shirt, too. It’ll say, “I graduated with Honors from SLU, and All I Got Was This T-Shirt,” because, after all those late nights and existential crises, this proves they didn’t completely waste their time.  

And about the lighting: no soft glow, no flattering ambient lighting. We’re talking about overhead, jarringly bright red lights—blinding, glaring, the kind of lights that make you feel like you’re being interrogated, which is exactly the vibe we need for a real graduation. You don’t need gentle lighting when you’ve made it through a college experience that has included far more than you ever expected, including but not limited to bad decisions and questionable relationship choices.  

And speaking of questionable relationship choices, let’s not forget the age-old tradition of walking past your situationship at The Hoot, which should be included in our final moments at SLU. It’s a classic moment of unspoken tension, where neither of you acknowledges the other’s existence, even though you both know exactly what’s been left unsaid. It’s a rite of passage—like the awkward dance of pretending you don’t see each other in the hallway, only now it’s happening in front of everyone. You’ve earned your diploma if you can survive that silent exchange.  

Instead of shaking hands with the university president, Kate Morris, or any board member whose names and faces we don’t know, we should be shaking hands with Danny Fay, the manager of The Hoot Owl. He’s the man who’s seen us at our absolute best and our absolute worst. Danny knows what we’ve been through. He’s earned our respect, and more importantly, he’s earned the honor of congratulating us in person.  

As for the families? Well, they’re encouraged to partake in a classic St. Lawrence tradition: a drunk cigarette before, during, or after the ceremony. Don’t judge—they’ve been through this and raised us. This is the least we can do to honor them for their years of emotional support. They’ll also get a front-row seat to the spectacle of a family trying to navigate a bar full of sweaty college students juggling drinks and life expectations.  

The pre-graduation ceremony, of course, should be held at the townhouses. This gives families a real taste of St. Lawrence traditions—drunkenly shouting at each other from across the yard, stealing knick-knacks as personal trophies, and dodging awkward small talk with that one person you think was in one of your classes in your first year. However, you can’t quite remember because, honestly, you were probably still figuring out the mystery of your 8 a.m. lecture schedule. Families should experience the sheer chaos of navigating through the haphazardly arranged couches and chairs in the yard that definitely are not all-weather but have been subjected to snow, rain, heat, and mud.   

Seating at The Hoot is first come, first serve, and if someone dares ask for their stool back, the answer is simple: “No.” This is no petty dispute—it’s a senior tradition. That stool is yours now, and if anyone thinks they can just claim it because they “got here first,” they’re wrong. You’ve survived four years of chaos and questionable decisions; you’re not giving up a stool now. No hesitation, no excuses—just a firm “no” and a look that says, “I’m not moving.”  

It’s not just me who believes a change in venue would elevate the graduation experience; other seniors have voiced similar opinions, and this diverse group of seniors (definitely not just my friends who I made give me quotes.) Lucien D’Aversa ’25 goes on record saying, “I believe a shift in venue will provide a stronger reprieve to students chasing that last night hangover; perhaps we could see if the school would sponsor a Saint’s Scarlett Bloody Mary.” Quinn Meyer ’25 voiced his opinion by saying “I believe having graduation in The Hoot would be a meaningful conclusion to our four years at SLU. I’ve been to the best bars in France, Poland, Germany and Slovakia, but The Hoot is the best bar on earth.” Lydia Loucas ’25 also had something to say on the matter, stating, “Graduation should be held at The Hoot! Let’s move the celebration from the Townies to the most iconic bar in Canton. We can take turns enjoying the atmosphere, celebrating with a cold Labatt, and raising a toast with our diplomas in hand!”  

Let’s make graduation ours. Let’s make it loud, messy, and full of moments that’ll make us cringe later—just like every Tuesday Blues we’ve survived. Let’s give this place the send-off it deserves. We’ve put in the time.