To follow up my post from Sunday, I thought I’d write about the actual graduation ceremony. To say that I have mixed feelings about the affair would be an understatement. I was constantly asked what I thought about the Japanese graduation by my fellow teachers and co-workers, and for some reason, my mind couldn’t settle on a distinct answer. I’m torn between two opinions: that the militant ceremony gives off a sort of regal atmosphere or that the stiff nature of a Japanese graduation takes away the sentimentality of such an occasion.
Yesterday started off with yet more practice for the actual event. At this time, the entire ceremony was given a dry run, which included the speeches that would be given later on in the day. This is when the first red flag went up in my mind. I thought graduation was for the students, but giving them a full preview of the speeches before the actual ceremony began shows that graduation in Japan is in fact more for the audience. (1 point awarded in opposition of a militant Japanese graduation)
On the other hand, having the students act in such a rigid manner really set the mood for a prestigious event. The children entered the gym with their chins held high, and they walked in perfect rhythm with the music. If you think the lines on a gymnasium floor are only for sports events, you are seriously mistaken! They did not falter from these lines in the least bit, and once again, the students’ turns were quickly and smoothly performed at a 90-degree pivot. I felt as if I was marching into battle rather than a school ceremony. The students bowed in unison (thank goodness for all of that practice), they sat at the same time, they stood up together, and their gaze never once left the stage. This magnified the importance of the event and made you feel like the day was incredibly special. (1 point awarded in favor of a militant Japanese graduation)
Before I approach the next subject, let’s keep in mind that I am a beginner in Japanese so my opinion may not hold much credibility. That being said, I found it odd that the speeches were given in such a dry manner. The faces of presenters were like stone and no jokes were made to make the audience laugh. One of my favorite moments at my high school graduation was listening to some of the memories of my fellow classmates. The two speeches that were actually given by students were read from a paper and delivered in monotone. I will say this though, some of the teachers cried during one of the speeches, so I obviously lost something in translation. I just wish I could have seen the students having more fun, and enjoying their last moments in their school. (1 point awarded in opposition of a militant Japanese graduation)
And finally, I have come to highly respect the act of bowing. Attending our graduation were some important political figures within the board of education and our prefectural government. As they entered the gym in the formal manner, which is so common in Japanese society, each visitor bowed to us. For each of these visitors, we exchanged the bow and counted ichi, ni, san (1, 2, 3) until we could come back to a standing position. This showed the ultimate respect for our company. Did I mention there were about 20 visitors? Despite me feeling similar to a jack in the box, the act itself is such a courteous welcome, and I have come to love that part of this culture. (1 point awarded in favor of a militant Japanese graduation)
As teachers, we were seated alongside our third year graduating students. I cannot bring myself to say that the American graduation is “better” than the Japanese graduation, because after the ceremony was finished, the students stand up and turn in their militant way to their right. This brings them face to face with us, their educators. In Japanese high schools, the teacher is seen as a parent figure, and is thus treated in such a way. As I stare at the children I’ve grown to love over the past 6 months, I see tears gleaming in their eyes, and few are sobbing uncontrollably. This just proves the point that graduation was special to them, even if it was different from what I experienced. They stare at us for some time, with a huge amount of respect in their eyes, and a little fear of what is to come in the next few months. It was then that I actually shed a tear, despite my apprehension of the ceremony itself. I felt proud to have contributed to their success, and sadness that I would no longer teach these particular students.
I don’t want to end on a sad note, so I will say that the students cheered up and were as lively as ever after the ceremony. The teachers worked their way to a hotel reception hall in a nearby city where we celebrated the success with the third year students’ parents. It was a wonderful evening filled with delicious Japanese food, beer, and sake. The parents showed their appreciation to the teachers by working their way around the room and filling our glasses. In Japan, it is a sign of respect to fill someone else’s glass with alcohol/drink, and often I had multiple parents just waiting in line to fill my glass. If it happened to be completely full, they would stand there until I drank it down so they could fill it to the top. It was nice to feel appreciated, and I can now see where some of my students’ get their personalities.
I am actually looking forward to participating in next year’s ceremony, and I can just imagine how emotional it will be after being at my school for the entire year this time. I am already close to a lot of my second year students, and I hope to only grow those relationships throughout the next year.
