Though the temperature rose higher as we held up our programs to block the setting sun, searing us through the west-facing windows, we were distracted by colorful posters high on the walls, by helium balloons tethered along the aisle, and by people sitting and standing everywhere, an agitated, celebratory mass hanging on the edge of glee, hooting, hollering and having a wonderfully good time, because these Liberty students had achieved significant goals that many had thought were beyond them.

Some of graduates had previously missed school or had dropped out. Some had got into trouble or had become disillusioned and had begun to fail in high school. While the reasons that brought them to Liberty were many and varied, common to all was the faltering of their education. But this night, all were at Liberty for the same reason: They had overcome severe odds and were graduating.

Students, faculty and administrators gave speeches. Scholarships were awarded by ten organizations and one individual. A caricature of each of the 27 graduates was projected on a screen, the student standing and beaming, some raising their hands in triumph, as family and friends screamed their support, and as Les Overlock and Cecile Kazami described what each student meant to the Liberty community.

It was an emotional time. Graduation is the heady stuff of nostalgia and tears, the time when we experience our children’s accomplishments while remembering the significant events of our past, knowing now, as we watch them, so much about ourselves that we couldn’t know then.

But when you think back on your years in school, do you understand the value of your education? Did you go to school primarily to get a job, earn a living, have a family and buy a house? Or was there more?

Neil Postman wrote "My Graduation Speech" in 1988, in which he divided all of humanity into two kinds of people: the Athenians and the Visigoths.

Postman explained that the Athenians, who flourished in Greece 2,500 years ago, developed a complete alphabet and became the first truly literate society. They invented political democracy, rhetoric, logic and philosophy. They were dramatists and poets who created works of supreme beauty and insight. They invented the Olympics. Above all, they believed in reason, beauty and moderation. While their civilization only lasted some 500 years, and their numbers were at times fewer than the combined populations of Benicia and Martinez, today "…it is hardly possible to speak on any subject without repeating what some Athenian said on the matter…."

The Visigoths, on the other hand, flourished 1,700 years ago. They were excellent horsemen and ruthless marauders. They destroyed the Roman Empire. "There was nothing a Visigoth liked better than to burn a book, desecrate a building, or smash a work of art. From the Visigoths, we have no poetry, no theater, no logic, no science, no humane politics." When the Visigoths won, the Dark Ages began.

The sober reality for graduates, Postman said, is that they must decide if they want to emulate Athenians or Visigoths, if they want to learn, build, and understand, or if they want to regress, consume, and criticize.

Postman’s allegory reminds us that education functions best when it cultivates our humanity. While vocational training is critical, especially in our advanced technological society, we remember education most fondly when we recall a teacher who interested us in the Athenian life. Perhaps she encouraged us to read a book that changed our lives. Or he gave us special insights that helped us to understand others. Or, through her daily example, she showed us what it meant to understand ourselves.

Certainly, the teachers and staff at Liberty are Athenians: Terry Abreu, Deborah Jackson-Sayegh, Carol Adams, Bev Cavagnaro, Les Overlock, Chuck Hooper, Cecile Kazami, Tom Hanson, Risa Everett, Elizabeth Edwards, Bud Donaldson, Art Cavagnaro, Nanci Petullo and Spence Rundberg. They value education. They create an environment in which struggling students are able to learn and excel. They nurture a supportive and accepting community in which many of the students, for the first time in their lives, catch a glimpse of the Athenian way.