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At my old school we had some wonderful last day of school
traditions. We go outside to the bus
lot, let the kids run around and sign yearbooks then we go in for our final
assembly. The end of the day is marked
by a loud countdown followed by the bell and a huge cheer from both staff and
students. We herd the kids out the door
and do the “wave” for buses as they leave.
It’s one of my favorites times of the year. Not just because it begins my summer
vacation, but it is such a happy time.
I have to say, the last day at an international school or at
least our school is quite different.
Bittersweet is the word, I think.
More bitter than sweet.
We began the day with our awards assembly. And I have to say, it was so cool seeing kids
get really and truly excited about receiving recognition for their achievements
in academics and citizenship. And to
watch the audience really cheer for them!
So often in US schools the kids with good grades and good behavior are
considered “nerds” and don’t get the accolades they deserve, except from
teachers and parents. It’s exciting to see kids making “good” the new “cool.”
On the other hand, it was sad to see a few of my kids upset
when they didn’t get honors or high honors.
One said, “I was so close, if it wasn’t for PE.” So she and I had a
discussion about how to improve in PE.
(Really teachers, can you imagine having this conversation! Most kids
LOVE PE!)We tried to make it a learning experience.
Then our students had time to mosey the middle school floor
and sign yearbooks. This is when the
crying started. Yes, there was crying at
my old school, but that was more like, “Oh, I’m so sad. What if I don’t see you at the pool this
summer? Boo hoo.” This crying was, “Oh my gosh, my best friend is moving to Qatar/Finland/Singapore/The
United States and I will probably never see them again. “ Multiply that by all of the students who were
leaving (many). And you can begin to
understand the sadness.
But this is when Third Culture Kids shine the most. They are so intensely supportive of each
other. I have never seen anything like
it. They say things to each other like,
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” and “It’s not
good-bye, it’s see you soon.” I watched
as two of my 8th graders, 14 year old boys, comfort each other like
grown men. There were strong man hugs,
pats on the back and “Man, it’s gonna be okay, man. You’ll do great, man.” It was enough to make
me tear up a bit as well.
When the end of the day came, there was no fanfare. No countdown,
no bell, no cheers of joy. It was more
like, “Ms Jarr, can we go?” I look at my
watch, “Uh, yeah. Have a good summer!”
Anti- climax if there ever was one.
The kids slowly found their way out of the building with
much encouragement from teachers. Except
for the high school floor where students could be seen for hours getting
yearbooks signed and chatting with teachers. I even found students at the
reception desk four hours after school let out to make sure they got Peggy and
Coco (our administrative assistants) to sign their yearbooks. So cool. .
I don’t think it was until after lunch (and a celebratory
beer) that I really had time to think about the momentous occasion that had
occurred. With that fizzling anti-climax came the end of my first year of
international teaching. Whoa.
I look back to the poor sad sap that was hanging about for
most of the year and I almost don’t recognize her. I feel like next year will be much better. I
hopefully won’t be spending every weekend at work. Hopefully I won’t stay at work every night
until dinnertime. Maybe I might even be
able to do a bit more traveling on the weekends (Sadly, I still haven’t been to
Macau!) I already feel a bit of a China veteran, so I look forward to being
helpful next year to new teachers instead of just constantly asking
questions!
So year one is finished.
It’s packed up. And it’s on its
way home to the US.
