卒業式 The Graduation Ceremony

Woohoo! I’m back.. It’s March now and the temperature has been rising ever so gradually along with a persoanl euphoria at being able to see a blue sky for the first time in several months. I await with baited breath the day Spring comes into full overdrive with the blooming of the cherry blossoms.

Along with the seasonal change has come the time for change in my schools as well. The Japanese school year ends around mid-march and that means graduation time for the third years in my junior highs and the sixth years in my elementary schools. Unlike the American school system where the primary graduation ceremony is focused on High School, graduation from junior high over here is a pretty momentous occasion. The reason behind this being next year, all of the students will, for the first time, be separated. Since grade one, these students have been in the same classes with the same students and have thus never been separated before. 

In anticipation of this occasion, all of my schools had been hard at work for several weeks tidying up the schools and making the decorations. After all this time, it never ceases to amaze how talented many of my students are at decorating and drawing (considering even my drawings of stick figures are nothing short of abominations). In addition to their tireless work at decorating and cleaning, all of the students were relentlessly drilled over the graduation procedures. Every bow had to be down perfectly.

Awesome decorations made by the younger students.

Decorations in the third years` classroom

Learning to Bow

1st and 2nd year messages to the third years. They are divided based on which after school club each student was in.

The graduation ceremony itself had major variations from the ceremonies I had experienced in America. For starters, the overall sentiment was much more somber. All for starters, the parents were very formally dressed in black and remained dead silent throughout the whole ceremony. Furthermore, instead of the trademark graduation gown worn in America, the students were dressed in their usual trademark school uniforms.

The ceremony itself started off with third years entering the room, (everyone was dead silent while they did) and taking their seats. Next, all bodies present sang the national anthem and the respective school song. After a short montage of pictures and videos of the third years, the students lined up to receive their diplomas from the principal. It was at this moment that I became extremely thankful I have smaller schools (especially at one which had only 9 third years) as it really expedited the process.

Receiving the certificate of graduation

The table of the solemn big-wigs

After the students received their diplomas, several bigwigs such as the mayor, and the head of the PTA gave speeches, which I believe revolved around being a good member of society (it was really hard to stay awake for these so I missed out on a lot). The last parts of the ceremony involved singing school songs and more or a less a collective meltdown on the parts of the students and the teachers. At one of my schools, virtually every teacher and student was bawling at the end. Overall, the affair felt more like an amalgamation of a funeral and a formal military ritual rather than a celebration.

The meltdown begins

After the ceremony ended, the second and first years lined up in the hallway and made human tunnel under which passed the new graduates. The school then congregated on the outside of the school to take pictures and celebrate in a more informal fashion.

Striking a final pose

Add caption

My smallest junior high gathered around a piano and sang school songs after the ceremony.

Another way graduation here deviates from America is that although the third years are off school now, the first and second years still have another week of school left before a short break.   

Along with graduation and slightly improved weather, the spring season also brings something a bit more sinister. When I woke up this morning, my car was covered in a yellow chalk-like substance, courtesy of the notorious sugi tree. The yellow chalky substance is the pollen of the sugi tree and is known throughout Japan for being a serious allergen. Indeed, when I went to work this morning, quite a few of my coworkers were wearing masks and sniffling like crazy. Although I am allergic to mold, and almost every other conceivable pollen, I miraculously appear unaffected by the sugi which is a huge relief for my already beleaguered sinuses.  

Another interesting experience for me over the past few weeks was going to a modern art museum in Kanazawa. One particular exhibit that I found especially pertinent to my experience in Japan thus far was one titled The Perfect Home. The exhibit was a collection of art created by South Korean artist, , who had spent his life in both South Korea and the U.S. a prevalent theme in his work was expressing the difficulty of connecting to one specific culture after living in two radically different places for a long time. In one picture that I found especially relevant, the artist had drawn a map of the world and had drawn his house in the middle of the Pacific Ocean between Korea and New York. During my time here thus far, hardly a day goes by when I find myself missing some aspect of life back in Minnesota and the United States whether for its astounding acceptance of cultural diversity or good cheese. Yet, I know that when I return to America, the situation will inevitably reverse and I will find myself longing for aspects of life in Japan such as amazing Japanese food and customer service that doesn`t treat you like a burden. Thus, I find myself agreeing with the artist that my perfect home is in the PAcific Ocean, lodged between America and Japan.