When the UCLA Fight Song Makes You Cry

There was a moment a few weeks ago at UCLA Bruin Day when I cried a little. Bruin Day is the day that UCLA sponsors every year to welcome their newly admitted students, a day where the university seeks to convince these students (who most likely have been admitted to several colleges) that UCLA is the place for them, far superior to, say U.C Berkeley. The day offers seminars about special programs, campus and housing tours, and a festival on the green where clubs have recruiting booths. Members of the women’s rugby club wandered around, searching for new teammates.

UCLA isn’t the only college to do this. U C Berkeley had their fair the same day. These “Welcome Admitted Students” days occur every April, a few short weeks before students have to commit to a school. It’s a precious time when the tables are turned, a time when the colleges court them.  For months, even years, students have polished their application essays, worked hard on their grades, taken standardized tests multiple times in hopes of adding a few  points to their scores, logged volunteer hours and joined extracurricular activities, all in hopes of putting together strong application packages. For University of California schools, they submit everything in November. In late March, they discover how they did. Were they admitted, accepted, appreciated?  Were they rejected? Or maybe, worst of all, were they put on the waiting list?  These “future student” days are enchanting, full of excitement and hope. It’s a day of wonder before they sign papers to commit,  a day of magic before the first payments are due.

My daughter was accepted to UCLA. It was one of her top picks.  

We drove to Bruin Day. We left Sacramento around 6 pm Friday evening and made it to my aunt’s house outside of  LA around 3:30 am. We were up by 5:30 am to drive the hour without traffic to UCLA. The opening ceremony was in Pauley Pavilion at 9 am. We gathered, bleary eyed, with hundreds of other accepted students and their families. Soon, the UCLA marching band streamed into the auditorium, playing the UCLA fight song.

My parents were both graduates of UCLA. They didn’t know each other there; they met later. My Dad was in a fraternity. He never talked much about those days. After he became a Christian after marriage, he didn’t seem to be too proud of them. But he was a true blue UCLA fan his entire life. He had a UCLA baseball cap that he wore for years, one that my daughter kept when we were finally sorting through his things. One time while out shopping at an outlet store, my Mom picked up a stuffed bear that sang the UCLA fight song when you pressed his paw. My Dad loved that bear. My kids loved that bear. My son pressed his paw whenever we were over for a visit. After we lived there, in one of our transitional periods? There were times when I grew a little tired of the UCLA fight song.

A photo from my Mom’s UCLA yearbook, 1951. My daughter will be following in her footsteps. Also, look how well dressed everyone is! So impressive!

But at Bruin Day, hearing that song? I started to cry. Because I think my folks would’ve been so proud of my daughter and the work that she did to get there. For a second, it even seemed like they were there with us. There was a circle- a circle of education  (I think they were both the first in their families to graduate from college), of hope, possibility, and love.

A few weeks later, she made her decision. She committed to UCLA.

She probably won’t be happy if I start to weep every time I hear the UCLA fight song. Those emotions will surely fade.  But for now, at that day? It was a grace.

An ordinary moment of holy.

A quote from my Mon’s 1951 UCLA yearbook. It almost could be a blessing from the students of yesterday for the students of today.