Not a fan of holding my applause.

Holding my applause gives me hives.

Well, not really hives. But it annoys me. I have sat through two collegiate awards ceremonies in recent days (shout out to my amazing kids!), and find the admonition to hold our applause annoying. More than mildly.

Oh, I get it. The print on one of the programs is in a 4pt font in order to fit the exhaustive list of honorees. One just printed a big catalog of recipients in lieu of a program. That is a lot of people and a lot of awards and a lot of clapping. I GET IT.

But here's the thing. I am not a college professor having to sit through this every spring. I am not a member of the student life team eager to ensure the event runs smoothly. 

I am a mother who gets ONE shot to see her child recognized for the significant accomplishments of his and her college careers and you insisted the program move along so rapidly that at BOTH institutions, you didn't allow my kiddo to even pause for a photograph in view of the audience -- read: in view of this mother photographer -- but rather you whisked them to either the side or the back of the stage to snap a group shot while we were finally given permission to clap.

And frankly, I feel like the whole rushed thing left me wanting for more.

The triplets were five years old the first time I realized the healing power of applause. Each had their own chosen activity: Benjamin chose music, Mason chose gymnastics, and Claire chose ballet.

Mason would be the first to perform for parents. His class had just a hand full of students and so I expected there to be ten to twelve people watching. But the exhibition drew the attention of other families at the gym and soon the entire bleachers were filled and cheering for these tiny challenged gymnasts giving it their all on the balance beam, the bar, and the mat. 

I will never forget the moment Coach Kathy put a medal around Mason's neck and the crowd went wild. I mean, I was cheering like mad, and knew Wade, Benjamin and Claire were too, but to hear all the applause, you would have thought we brought the entire town to cheer for Mason. I had no idea who these people were but their support, echoed in their clapping, washed over me like a balm, and shouted that we were not alone. I can close my eyes and remember the feeling that I was not the only one who would spend time cheering for this boy.

Oh that wasn't the only time a crowd cheered for Mason. Claire, Benjamin, and Cate have had their fair share of cheering crowds too. And every single time -- from the stage to the piano hall to the softball field -- every single time, I hear support, love, celebration in those clapping hands. (And every time I put my hands together I am sending all of that...every time!)

Mason gathering awards.

Benjamin receiving accolades for his original play reading.

Claire at her awards day.

And isn't that the absolute best? Don't we need to feel celebrated? Supported?

Cate hit it to the fence last week and I found myself standing and cheering
 very loudly before I even knew what I was doing!

So if you serve in a place of influence over awards days of any kind, may I implore you to remember that you might have to attend dozens of these in your career, but for the student (and the mama) getting the award, this could be their only time to hear the crowd roar for them. Don't turn it into a generic hand patting at the end of a designated category for pete's sake. 

The next couple of weeks are FULL of college graduations for my trio. What a gift to be on the front row of the cheering section for these three -- be warned though, I don't intend to hold my applause.