Yesterday, Miss South Africa, Shudufhadzo Musida graduated with her honours degree in International Relations from the University of the Witswatersrand. The celebration however, opened another conversation after users on social media got upset by mistakenly thinking that Shudu received ‘special treatment.’
They thought that Shudu was allowed to have a physical graduation while everyone else graduated online, when in reality, she went to an interview after the virtual graduation while keeping her robes on. Even though the facts were blurred, the emotions were real, and I think we need to discuss how upset people actually were at the Universities and virtual grads.
Now, for context, I am writing this story as a student who graduated online twice. Both for my undergraduate degree and my honours degree, which also happened to be in International Relations, writes Cape {town} Etc’s Ashleigh Nefdt. I share this information because I understand where the frustrated students are coming from, to a certain extent though. Let’s not sugarcoat it – online graduation was hardly going to succeed in validating the years of hard work we put in.
Seeing your name on a screen, pop up for a few seconds is somewhat undermining. No thrill of walking proudly across the stage you dreamed of for so long. No joy of seeing your loved ones in the audience as you proudly stand tall accepting your achievement, hoping you made them proud. Many of us couldn’t even be with our families and loved ones when the virtual ceremonies took place. In all honesty, I didn’t even watch mine.
The first time I found out my graduation would be online, I was admittedly far from a happy chappy. It felt like every gruelling long night of studying, every paper churned out when I felt like I couldn’t possibly type another word, let alone 2 000 more, every late-night library session that saw the library chair as my bed, every research paper that I thought would be the death of me, had amounted to so little. And then I went on to do honours during the pandemic, and hopefully thought that maybe by the end of my studies, I’d get the graduation I hoped for (and dreamed of) at last. Unfortunately, it was virtual again. It didn’t hit me as hard the second time, and I’ll explain why.
During my first pity-party, I was reminded of the words a professor had once said, long before virtual graduation ceremonies even existed.
We were discussing how our class would be graduating one day. “Humans seek validation through ceremonies,” he mused aloud. “Recognition through pieces of paper, or trophies or symbols allow us to share tangible celebration. But they are not everything. We can allocate our own celebrations.”
The words always stuck with me. We love accolades and symbols, because they are tangible, concrete evidence of what we have done. But as my Prof accurately pointed out, they are not everything.
And so when I came across Shudu’s graduation, I understood that people felt upset, especially if one didn’t have the full story. Many people didn’t investigate further to learn that Shudu actually graduated online too, but had an interview with the VC Professor Zeblon Vilakazi where she chose to wear her robes too. I understand why she did that, she deserved to enjoy her achievement and was someone in extraordinary circumstances, being Miss SA after all.
After my virtual graduation today, I had an interview opportunity with VC Prof Zeblon Vilakazi & of course I went in my grad attire. This pandemic has led to trying times & uncertainty for everyone. To all students who had to persevere even in the least ideal times… phambili✊? https://t.co/AZRqJq9bk2 pic.twitter.com/UMUHA1pJZ2
— Shudufhadzo (@abigailmusida) July 20, 2021
Why did Miss SA have a physical graduation while other Wits graduates did not? ?
— Thembi M (@ThembiMatroshe) July 20, 2021
People are upset about this and rightfully so. All graduates put in the work and didnt even get their names read out during the virtual graduation ceremony, but she gets a special graduation. Yes, she is Miss SA, but she is a student like the rest. This smells of classism. https://t.co/jSkJBpzL1g
— MPHO? (@MphoMoalamedi) July 20, 2021
I love shudu but yal are shitty for this. We all worked hard and are equally deserving of graduating. This is the biggest middle finger to all graduates for conquering the edge.
— ThakhaniThakhie (@ThakhaniThakhie) July 20, 2021
There were those who tried to explain the full story however:
Miss SA catching so much heat is weird…. It has been explained that she was there for an interview in her gown but people are ignoring that. Why? ?
— TT (@NinjaTTbro) July 21, 2021
So many of you chose to ignore the caption vele, yey ninomona man hands of Miss SA Shudu! pic.twitter.com/s5iY9A5YKY
— Mbaliyethu Sithole (@MbaliyethuS) July 21, 2021
And those who expressed that even if she did have her ceremony, she is a public figure and privileged treatment does come with such:
i’m not understanding okes, are you guys crying for the same treatment as Miss SA? MISS SA??? do you think that’s your equal?
— STREAM WE GON’ BE GOOD ? (@AdelesBabyDaddy) July 21, 2021
You’re literally asking why Miss SA is being treated like Miss SA. What’s with all this people. pic.twitter.com/Ua06aQcpp4
— I am-Nangani ♠️ (@T_Nangani) July 21, 2021
After seeing people’s emotive space on social media and in light of my own context, what I have ascertained is this. For the most part, the anger wasn’t directed at Shudu. If anything, it was a cry of collective frustration at important, milestone celebrations being taken away from so many of us.
And I’m not going to argue that our losses were fair. We had little control, the world went into a pandemic, we had to keep people safe, we had no choice. However, what I will argue for is that hopefully, this conversation will point out to Universities that people deserve their proper graduations one day – for those who want them at least. For now however, maybe we can consider the words of my professor. Celebrations are meaningful, but they are not everything. We know what we achieved.
Picture: Instagram/ @shudufhazomusida