They prepared certificates for the thirtieth school reunion. Nobody had requested them, but the organiser thought every celebration needed a programme. Men received awards for the largest company, the farthest business trip, and the longest service in one job. Women were assigned the most children, the longest marriage, and the least altered appearance. Gordana listened from the middle of the room in a new dress bought with her first wages after finishing university.
Her certificate was for the most children. She had four, all now grown, and loved them without needing a stamp to certify it. When the organiser called her, she stood and accepted the paper. He thrust the microphone towards her to say something about her greatest achievement. Gordana looked at the women at her table. One had no children and was trying to appear uninterested in what would next emerge from the folder.
Gordana said she had completed a degree in occupational safety that year. The organiser interrupted to say that naturally he meant family. She repeated what she had completed and added that she worked at a small manufacturing company. Someone at the back called that it was nice at her age. Gordana put the paper on the table, still holding the microphone. She asked whether they intended to award the men prizes for the number of school smocks washed or babies put to sleep.
Several people laughed, then stopped when they realised this was not leading towards a prepared joke. The organiser explained that not everything should be taken seriously. Gordana said she had spent most of the evening listening to serious information about other people's businesses. Her marriage and children mattered, but they were not the only named parts of her life. She returned the microphone before he began another speech about misunderstood intentions.
Afterwards different people approached. Some supported her; others explained that she had spoiled the atmosphere. Her friend without children brought a glass of water and asked what exams had been like after so many years. They talked for twenty minutes. It was the first conversation that evening in which Gordana did not have to shorten her answer to fit someone else's idea of her.
She took the certificate home and showed her children. Her youngest son asked whether the prize should be divided into four shares. They stuck it on the fridge, surrounded by her actual shift schedule. The following day the organiser wrote in the shared group that he would not prepare a programme next time. Gordana replied that she would gladly come. For the first time she wrote that without reservation.