While I certainly remember the emotions that were brought up during high school graduation in New York, I can't recall anything worth a thought at the end of junior high school. But in a country where life is experienced in groups, any occasion which causes a group to be splintered is often quite solemn and always memorable. The fact that after all their time together, many students will go on to different high schools across the Prefecture, makes the idea of graduating all the more emotional.
For three years the 3 nenseis at both junior high schools spent countless hours together in class, on sports teams, and in after school clubs (meeting on weekends as well). They grew up under the rigid Japanese educational system and succeeded by working together. Whether through seemingly endless sessions of cheering during sports day or relying on three or four cohorts in helping to answer 'how are you?' in English class, they are rarely alone and thrive in numbers. That teamwork is what got them up there on stage, accepting a diploma from a beaming principal while being surrounded by hundreds of admirers.
As sempais (senior students), they served as role models for the two grades below. Of course, this is the case in most schools around the world, but in Japan, these kids were considered to be gold.
I was not a frequent witness to interactions between students from different grades but when it was visible, it was obvious that the kohais (junior students) were completely enamored with the 3 nenseis. All the respect...all the love that they had for the graduating class came out after the ceremony in a very emotional farewell under snowy skies.
Traditionally, teachers and students stand outside to say goodbye to the graduates as they leave school grounds for the last time. The 3 nenseis take their time cleaning out shoe cubbies, their class rooms, and scouring the walls for mementos. When all are ready, they walk out of the genkan (entrance/exit) and into a mob of admirers who jockey for position, hoping to score a keepsake from their heroes.
Three boys from the baseball team were the first to leave.
They strolled out amidst camera flashes and wishes of good luck. As they approached a group of 2 nenseis, one boy was being shoved to the front. He looked like he was going to break down and cry before the captain -- whom he would be replacing -- put his arm around the kid's shoulder. They took a few steps away from the crowd and words were exchanged briefly. After a few energetic nods, the kohai smiled and led his hero back to the group. A big smile was on his face because he had received a very important button from the captain's uniform; the one which had been next to his heart. It seemed like a million of these types of interactions were happening around me; there was energetic laughter and heavy sobbing in any direction I turned. I was fortunate to seek out and find a few students including this fellow -- all 185 CM of him. How nice is this kid? He even bent his knees for the picture.
After an hour or so, the chilly weather began to thin the crowds and the 3 nenseis waved their final goodbyes and left the grounds. A large space where their lunch tables used to be will be left unfilled until the beginning of the new school year in April -- the symbolism and its overall effect on the school brought about many new tears.
Today at Maki Higashi, I was able to see how the school picked itself up and began to move on after saying goodbye to its own kids. My class load was very light, but I didn't take advantage of free time until the cleaning period when students sweep the halls and classrooms for 20 minutes. I took a quick stroll while the teacher's room was being swept. It was just long enough to soak in the emotion which had been weighing heavily on everyone’s shoulders; it was now beginning to take its toll on me.
Familiar faces greeted me as I passed, but as much as I cared for them as my students, they were not the ones I wanted to see. The stairwells, hallways, and classrooms were being tended to by different hands; new kids were flying down the halls pushing damp rags to clean the floors.
I didn’t bother stopping by the stairwell that leads up to the 3 nensei class rooms… Chie and Miho wouldn’t be there to greet me with big smiles and warm hellos. Aya wouldn’t be strolling by, begging my forgiveness for the delay in her latest letter. Fumika wouldn’t be waiting for me to help her practice for the upcoming speech competition. Rie wouldn’t be beaming as she asked well-practiced questions in English.
Back to my desk and memories.
Out of all of this, the one thing I can write with confidence is that all these kids did a wonderful job in creating a group; a very memorable one. Although it might seem to be a daunting task now, there is another group out there for each of them, waiting to be born.
Keep surfing,
Brendan
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