I didn't even look at the video and I'm all teary. I'm with you. The celebration of what we are to each other is more interesting than the celebration of what any one person achieves. Congratulations to your son and his classmates.
I absolutely adored my son's fifth grade graduation. Not only because he was my first kid to finish elementary school, but because our lives had exploded a year and a half prior when my marriage fell apart and so both my kids moved to a new school in the middle of the school year-- Otto's fourth grade year. It was a brutal time for our family; my kids STRUGGLED and my ex and I were in a very bad place still when it was time for Otto to graduate fifth grade. But since I got there early because the school was in walking distance from my place I saved him a seat on the front row anyway. It seemed like the right thing to do. A deeply uncomfortable thing, but the right one.
Otto didn't tell me that every one of the kids made a short video where they thanked someone who had helped them during elementary school. We all watched every one on the big screen up on the gym stage and cheered and cried. When it was time for Otto's all of a sudden there he was, his face filling the whole screen and he said, "I just want to thank my mom. Because she brought me to this school, in this neighborhood, where I can be my weird, true self and where I made friends who I'm going to keep forever." Gah! Tears poured down my face. I felt, I'll admit, a little vindicated. And just really, really grateful to be on this weird, sometimes difficult journey with my particular kids.
(He didn't keep those friends, by the way. But he's even more awesome now and I adore him even more, which I wouldn't have thought possible in that moment.)
So glad you got that message in that moment (and so glad that your son found, and keeps finding, communities that adore him and allow him to adore others).
Because I was a teacher for 17 years, I have been to countless graduations, and every time I went to one, I thought it was going to be the one that was one too many, that I would finally have grown a callous over my heart and it was going to be so everyday to me. But I am always wrong! Something always makes me cry, and it's usually just watching someone else cry. There's something to be said about watching someone else's significant moment; being a witness can so be sacred. I had the same "graduation-y" type feelings recently at my son's middle school production of The Wizard of Oz Junior. I was so surprised so many of my friends showed up on a Thursday night (not surprised they love my son, but listening to kids whose voices are cracking quietly mumble songs and pretend to be flying monkeys is another level of commitment). But they loved it, of course. When else can you just unabashedly love something so amateur? When do we get to be amateur and unpolished and applauded for it? The tradition after the show is for everyone--the entire cast and crew and teachers and parents and friends--to invade the local ice cream shop. They stay open late just for us. It reminded me of when I would make a point to stop by students' graduation parties. I'd stand on the periphery so they kids knew I was there, but I also wanted to respect their space, and time to be with friends. I just think we are so lucky to be adults in kids' worlds.
I haven’t been an attendee at a graduation ceremony so this is a lovely perspective. I think there’s something very different about graduation prior to college. It’s about what’s necessary vs what’s optional. While that’s overly simplistic, I definitely felt like it was more of an individual thing to graduate college and beyond. I think 8th grade graduation meant a lot to me because it was a lot about survival. I experienced a lot of particularly brutal and isolating bullying at school for 6 years. Then high school was a different atmosphere where I truly felt some of the togetherness you describe. So graduation was much more about a shared experience of celebrating that. Thanks for the opportunity to reflect on these topics!
This was great. Today our son had his 8th grade promotion ceremony, and it was such a blessing to see the suburban white kids and the Spanish-speaking kids (who make up the majority) and the kids in hijab and the African American and Ethiopian kids and the families and all the rest just being happy and joyful and together. It gives me hope and, if I’m being honest, makes me feel a little smug about all the families who moved to other neighborhoods to send their kids to “better” schools that are way more culturally and economically homogeneous.
The language skills are great, for sure, and jeez would I love to have them. I'll say, though, more so than learning Spanish, I think what I value a lot is why they learned it, which is to say, as a means towards a relationship with each other.
in the old days (when I was a kid (baby-boomer,) we "graduated from 8th grade. In NYC, we had to sew our own dresses; white of course. The boys got away from that awful-sewing experience. I prefer schools going up to 8th grade; and then four years of High school. Junior high/Middle school is just three years of hormonal violence and cruelty. Yes, we had that in the 7th and 8th graders; but the little children in our circumference seem to tone it down a bit.
oh I did! Most of the girls hid their dress materials in the large plastic bags that were popular in the late 50's-early sixties. Then they had family help sew them. I did not have one of those; and my dear mother would not have been able to help me sew the dress. I remember the dress ripping as I walked onto the stage to graduate!
I didn't even look at the video and I'm all teary. I'm with you. The celebration of what we are to each other is more interesting than the celebration of what any one person achieves. Congratulations to your son and his classmates.
Being together is its own accomplishment!
I absolutely adored my son's fifth grade graduation. Not only because he was my first kid to finish elementary school, but because our lives had exploded a year and a half prior when my marriage fell apart and so both my kids moved to a new school in the middle of the school year-- Otto's fourth grade year. It was a brutal time for our family; my kids STRUGGLED and my ex and I were in a very bad place still when it was time for Otto to graduate fifth grade. But since I got there early because the school was in walking distance from my place I saved him a seat on the front row anyway. It seemed like the right thing to do. A deeply uncomfortable thing, but the right one.
Otto didn't tell me that every one of the kids made a short video where they thanked someone who had helped them during elementary school. We all watched every one on the big screen up on the gym stage and cheered and cried. When it was time for Otto's all of a sudden there he was, his face filling the whole screen and he said, "I just want to thank my mom. Because she brought me to this school, in this neighborhood, where I can be my weird, true self and where I made friends who I'm going to keep forever." Gah! Tears poured down my face. I felt, I'll admit, a little vindicated. And just really, really grateful to be on this weird, sometimes difficult journey with my particular kids.
(He didn't keep those friends, by the way. But he's even more awesome now and I adore him even more, which I wouldn't have thought possible in that moment.)
So glad you got that message in that moment (and so glad that your son found, and keeps finding, communities that adore him and allow him to adore others).
Because I was a teacher for 17 years, I have been to countless graduations, and every time I went to one, I thought it was going to be the one that was one too many, that I would finally have grown a callous over my heart and it was going to be so everyday to me. But I am always wrong! Something always makes me cry, and it's usually just watching someone else cry. There's something to be said about watching someone else's significant moment; being a witness can so be sacred. I had the same "graduation-y" type feelings recently at my son's middle school production of The Wizard of Oz Junior. I was so surprised so many of my friends showed up on a Thursday night (not surprised they love my son, but listening to kids whose voices are cracking quietly mumble songs and pretend to be flying monkeys is another level of commitment). But they loved it, of course. When else can you just unabashedly love something so amateur? When do we get to be amateur and unpolished and applauded for it? The tradition after the show is for everyone--the entire cast and crew and teachers and parents and friends--to invade the local ice cream shop. They stay open late just for us. It reminded me of when I would make a point to stop by students' graduation parties. I'd stand on the periphery so they kids knew I was there, but I also wanted to respect their space, and time to be with friends. I just think we are so lucky to be adults in kids' worlds.
I love every sentence of this. Celebrating the right to be amatuer! Crying at strangers' joy! Ice cream for all, open late!
I haven’t been an attendee at a graduation ceremony so this is a lovely perspective. I think there’s something very different about graduation prior to college. It’s about what’s necessary vs what’s optional. While that’s overly simplistic, I definitely felt like it was more of an individual thing to graduate college and beyond. I think 8th grade graduation meant a lot to me because it was a lot about survival. I experienced a lot of particularly brutal and isolating bullying at school for 6 years. Then high school was a different atmosphere where I truly felt some of the togetherness you describe. So graduation was much more about a shared experience of celebrating that. Thanks for the opportunity to reflect on these topics!
I'm so, so sorry about what you experienced in your school years but also love the way you claimed and celebrated your survival.
This was great. Today our son had his 8th grade promotion ceremony, and it was such a blessing to see the suburban white kids and the Spanish-speaking kids (who make up the majority) and the kids in hijab and the African American and Ethiopian kids and the families and all the rest just being happy and joyful and together. It gives me hope and, if I’m being honest, makes me feel a little smug about all the families who moved to other neighborhoods to send their kids to “better” schools that are way more culturally and economically homogeneous.
Congratulations! It sounds beautiful!
so cool your kids are fluent Spanish-speakers! i am sooooo glad to have grown up with 2 languages. congrats to the grad!
The language skills are great, for sure, and jeez would I love to have them. I'll say, though, more so than learning Spanish, I think what I value a lot is why they learned it, which is to say, as a means towards a relationship with each other.
Man, this one made me cry (as I may or may not have done hearing them sing that song yesterday)! Grateful to share that community with you all.
So grateful to share it with you all as well (and to celebrate our identically dressed children)!
in the old days (when I was a kid (baby-boomer,) we "graduated from 8th grade. In NYC, we had to sew our own dresses; white of course. The boys got away from that awful-sewing experience. I prefer schools going up to 8th grade; and then four years of High school. Junior high/Middle school is just three years of hormonal violence and cruelty. Yes, we had that in the 7th and 8th graders; but the little children in our circumference seem to tone it down a bit.
Sewing your own dresses! I would have failed at that task!
oh I did! Most of the girls hid their dress materials in the large plastic bags that were popular in the late 50's-early sixties. Then they had family help sew them. I did not have one of those; and my dear mother would not have been able to help me sew the dress. I remember the dress ripping as I walked onto the stage to graduate!
Garrett! Make me weep already! How utterly lovely this is ...
Oh thank you, Charlotte!
This 👆❤️
Love this.
The sweetest. Thanks for sharing your joy.
Here's to sharing all things