Is The Feeling of Closure… Designed?: What Graduation Teaches Us About Ritual
It’s a folding chair in a gym. A hot gown. Your name read from a spreadsheet into a microphone that slightly echoes.
And yet, you feel it.
That swell in your chest. That rush of nerves before walking across the stage. That moment when hundreds of tiny, silent rituals accumulate into something big. Meaningful. Final.
But what exactly makes a moment like graduation feel so significant?
We often think of ceremonies as emotional or cultural events, crafted by tradition, orchestrated by institutions. But underneath all of that, they are also meticulously designed systems. From the choreography of movement to the texture of the robes, from the seating layout to the order of names, ceremonies are engineered to trigger emotion, create memory, and mark transition.
This post isn’t just about graduations. It’s about how design quietly shapes what we call milestones. And why those moments feel empty, or unforgettable, depending on how they’re designed.
The Anatomy of a Ceremony: Why It Feels Like a Big Deal
Graduation ceremonies are full of structured elements that turn a routine day into a life marker. Let’s look at a few and what they’re really doing:
| Element | Design Purpose |
| Robes and Regalia | Signal status shift, create visual unity, and remove distractions (everyone looks the same, regardless of wealth, style, etc.) |
| Walking Across a Stage | Physical embodiment of transition (a moment with a clear “before” and “after”) |
| Name Reading | Personal recognition within a collective system |
| Applause & Cheering | Public validation of private effort |
| Diploma Hand-Off | Tactile, symbolic transfer ( a prop that represents achievement) |
| Music and Pomp | Rhythmic structure and emotional build-up |
These aren’t random traditions. They’re experience design.
They slow time down. They guide focus. They engage all the senses. And in doing so, they allow us to process something emotionally that would otherwise pass us by in a blur.
What the Research Says: Rituals Are Cognitive Tools
Studies show that rituals reduce anxiety, create a sense of control, and help us process change, even when we know they’re symbolic.
A 2013 Harvard study found that people who performed a short ritual before eating a chocolate bar not only enjoyed the bar more, but actually perceived the chocolate as more flavorful. Another study found that rituals (even self-created ones) enhanced performance and focus, especially in high-stress situations.
Graduation is a socially reinforced ritual. We expect to feel different afterward, so we often do. Not because of the paper diploma, but because the experience has been designed to feel like a transformation.
When Design is Missing: The Ceremony Gap
Now imagine a graduation with no robe, no stage, no names read aloud. Just a generic email: “Congrats, you’ve graduated.”
Technically, you’ve still achieved something. But it feels completely different. Without ritual, there’s no story. Without story, there’s no memory. Without memory, there’s no closure.
This is exactly what happened during the height of COVID, when students had to attend “virtual graduations.” For many, the moment passed quietly, even invisibly. No applause. No pause.
It wasn’t the lack of people that made it hollow, it was the absence of designed recognition.
What This Teaches Us About Design in the Everyday
Ceremonies are one of the clearest examples of design shaping emotion. But this kind of design shows up everywhere:
- The layout of a memorial site, where space, silence, and paths guide reflection
- The procession of a wedding, where movement, music, and structure build anticipation
- The arrangement of a restaurant table, where candlelight, spacing, and soundscape create intimacy
- The opening minutes of a live theater performance, where lights dim and sound hushes the crowd into focus
We move through these spaces all the time without noticing the design beneath them, but it’s there, influencing how we behave, feel, and remember.
What If We Designed More Moments Like This?
Graduation shows us what happens when we design for dignity, attention, and transformation.
What if we brought that same care to:
- Your first day at a new job, where the experience feels welcoming, not just procedural
- Completing a major project, with a small ritual or debrief that honors the effort before jumping to the next task
- The day a child starts school, marked by a meaningful handoff between home and classroom
- Moving into a new home, with small community-led gestures that make it feel like an arrival, not just logistics
- Returning from parental leave, where re-entry is acknowledged and supported, not just scheduled
- Closing a business, with space to reflect on what was built, even if it didn’t last forever
Design isn’t just for screens and products. It’s for marking meaning.
And meaning doesn’t happen by accident.