Sit, Stand, Bow

Last week I got to attend the graduation ceremony at my super English school. They had been working up to it for several days, with cleaning of the school, preparing of all the diplomas (the calligraphy teacher wrote out each student's name), and a 2.5 hour assembly to run through the graduation beforehand.

It was on Thursday morning, March 1st, as high schools all over Tokushima commended and sent off their graduates. The teachers squeezed their cars all over the school grounds so that parents could take the parking lot. The sun was shining and the temperature up to a breezy 55 degrees, with bright spring grasses peeping out beside the blossoming plum trees.

I had been told that it was a very formal event, and that I ought to wear a suit, so I picked out a navy blue suit with grey tights and turtle neck. Conservative enough, right? Well, when I got into the staffroom and had a look around, it felt like I was wearing neon compared to the straight black and white that all the other teachers wore. Granted, the homeroom teachers of the 3rd years (seniors) were dressed in colorful and classy kimonos, but they had cultural sanction to do it. No one hammered me down, but for once I wasn't too pleased to be "the nail that stuck out". Believe it or not, though, the show went on, and I have a much better idea of what to wear next year.

At 9:15, we all filed into the gymnasium. There was blue and white striped paper strung up around all the walls, green mats laid on the wood floor so we could wear our slippers inside, and a thousand chairs lined up in perfect rows. All of the second grade students were already seated in the center section, and the staff took our seats along the side, perpendicular to the stage. Soon the parents ushered in with hushed excitement, all well-dressed in perfectly black clothes.

After waiting a good ten minutes in general quiet, the school band started playing this song. That queued the 3rd graders to begin their march into the room, two by two. They sat in class order, nine classes of 40 students all in their dark green uniforms, lined up according to stude

nt numbers. When the band finished, there were several long moments of complete silence. Then, over the loudspeaker: "Ichidou...kireitsu!" the entire gymnasium stood in unison. At "Rei", we all bent forward 45 degrees in a formal bow, waited 2 seconds, and stood, then dropped to our seats once more upon "Chakuseki."

So began the ceremony, and so it continued. There were speeches from the principle, a teacher, a motivational speaker, and a member of the PTA. As each person came onto the stage, they first bowed to the dignitaries sitting near them, then to the dignitaries across from them, then to the Japanese flag as they ascended the stage, and finally to the audience, who responded in turn with a bow. The process would be repeated in reverse each time someone left the stage.

During the speeches I was able to let my mind wander, and only listen for the random "kireitsu". I think they sprinkle these in there to make sure no one falls asleep, with about one every 10 minutes. So I got to think back on my 3 graduation ceremonies in the past 3 years. At PACT I made faces at the camera the whole time and whispered things to Justine. At ARCC I tried to espy my partner from an online class that I'd never seen in person, and at the U of M I crocheted a tassel for myself. This time my only amissness was to tuck my feet under my chair instead of having them flat on the floor like they told all the students to do.

Instead of walking across the stage, each homeroom teacher read off the names of their

students. Several of them choked up while doing so, but were able to keep up a steady rhythm of names. As each name was called, there was a loud "hai!" and up popped a student from his or her chair. They did this for all 360 of them, which gave me plenty of time to compare all their ways of saying "hai", see the height differences and patterns between classes, and imagine a garden popping up in the springtime with little people plants all grown up. Then a student representative went through a bunch of bows to get up to the stage and present the principal with gift, and he in turn gave the student a fancy paper.

All throughout, I had plenty of time to observe the beauty in all this ritual, and the perfection in everyone's uniformity of both look and actions. The finale was the best part, though. The 3rd grade teachers all stood at the front facing their students. Just as music began to play, one student from the front row called out "KIREITSU!" and those students all stood up together, shouted "arigatou gozaimashita", and bowed. With perfect timing, the students on the end of each row led them out once more, two by two to exit the room. Several seconds be

fore the last student from each row had cleared, the next would do their own stand, thank you, and bow, then merge out into a perfect stream of green. There were tears everywhere, from students, teachers, and parents. Everyone clapped til their hands were sore and lingered after the last student had gone.

In their home rooms they said their final goodbyes and received diplomas, while we back in the gym set right to work with cleaning up. No one announced any duties, but everyone helped in stacking up the chairs (that fit perfectly beneath the stage and are stored in little roller carts), rolling up the green floor covering, and taking down the wall decorations.

I went off to a 3 hour English Club farewell party, received a delicious bento (complete with sashimi!), and signed many yearbooks. It was a lovely day.