Graduation (parents and friends are invited to a peepshow)
Today was the first time I’d attended a Japanese graduation ceremony, but judging from every other formal event I’ve had to attend here, I could pretty much guess what was coming. Music, tears, and really long speeches.
Everyone assembled in the gym, starting with the first- and second-year students (because in this situation, they’re essentially peons), the parents, PTA, teachers, and then the important folks like the Superintendent of the Board of Education, and the Town Mayor. This guy really doesn’t seem to have a lot to do in a day, so a junior highschool graduation is probably a real treat for him. Then finally, the sannensei made their way in. Slowly, announced, bowing, proud, some of them already crying, whilst we applauded politely and the band played uplifting music. It took all my strength not to giggle and ‘aaaaw’ when Momo (a shy, lanky boy who happens to look a little like Matsumoto Jun) shuffled past already sniffing back tears.
After everyone was seated, the homeroom teachers started reading names, and the principal handing out certificates. Wait, back up, the ceremony’s only 10 minutes in, how did we get to this part already? Traditionally, the awarding of the scrolls comes last, doesn’t it? I don’t dare to wish for a second that maybe, just maybe, for once we won’t be subjected to 30-something identical speeches. This is Japan. That just wouldn’t happen.
The presentation of the certificates, while deadly serious, is actually pretty amusing thanks to the unquestionable urge of Japanese girls to shorten their skirts. All year, these girls have strutted around school showing so much leg it made you wonder why teenage boys would ever need to buy porn. They’d complain about how cold they were, never stopping to think that maybe a skirt longer than a pencil (oh how I wish that was an exaggeration) might be the answer. But how do ridiculously short pleated skirts relate to graduation?
When the students collect their certificates, they must face the principal, who is facing the audience. And because this is Japan, they must also bow. And because he’s the principal, they have to give him the deepest bow possible as a sign of respect. Do you know what happens when a teenage girl, wearing a 3-inch skirt on a raised stage, bows to the waist with her back to an audience of 500?
I think you can figure it out.
All I can say is, I was amused. I wish I could’ve seen their faces as they silently debated whether it was more shameful to disrespect the principal in front of the whole school, or just flash them her underwear.
My initial suspicions were correct, there was no way we were escaping speeches that easily. After the certificates had been delivered, everyone settled in to be moved (or bored) to tears by 90 minutes of emotional delivery, most with tragic music playing in the background to ensure everyone realised this was a dramatic event. I tried to stay awake, I really did. I actually care for these kids (unlike the ninensei, most of whom I’d like to see hanged) and wanted to share their big moment. But I’m pretty sure I nodded off at least 17 times. I clapped really enthusiastically at the end in the hopes of justifying myself, but there was probably little point as I’m pretty sure everyone noticed when my head snapped up between naps.
The good thing about graduation is, it only goes for half the day, and you get to spend the rest of the time talking to students, taking photos and signing books. Believe it or not, I actually busted out the formal wear for this monumental occasion, which meant I was wearing heels that gave me a good three inches. Really not necessary for a Japanese crowd. Of course, my freshly dyed hair, business suit and hooker boots were absolutely no match for one of the other English teachers, who came in formal kimono and hakama. She’s adorable enough ordinarily, but with that getup even the students were trying to kidnap her.
I was fortunate enough to get photos with most of my favourite students, though most of them were positively drenched in tears by that stage. I’m serious, these kids cry A LOT. Prior to the ceremony there had been a QUEUE of students in the staffroom requesting handfuls of tissues to stuff in their pockets for later. Most of the teachers took some spare too. I kind of felt bad for laughing so much. You’d laugh too if you witnessed Johnny Deppa trying to be serious. It’s like putting a suit on a monkey. No matter how good the suit, it still looks ridiculous.
Everyone assembled in the gym, starting with the first- and second-year students (because in this situation, they’re essentially peons), the parents, PTA, teachers, and then the important folks like the Superintendent of the Board of Education, and the Town Mayor. This guy really doesn’t seem to have a lot to do in a day, so a junior highschool graduation is probably a real treat for him. Then finally, the sannensei made their way in. Slowly, announced, bowing, proud, some of them already crying, whilst we applauded politely and the band played uplifting music. It took all my strength not to giggle and ‘aaaaw’ when Momo (a shy, lanky boy who happens to look a little like Matsumoto Jun) shuffled past already sniffing back tears.
After everyone was seated, the homeroom teachers started reading names, and the principal handing out certificates. Wait, back up, the ceremony’s only 10 minutes in, how did we get to this part already? Traditionally, the awarding of the scrolls comes last, doesn’t it? I don’t dare to wish for a second that maybe, just maybe, for once we won’t be subjected to 30-something identical speeches. This is Japan. That just wouldn’t happen.
The presentation of the certificates, while deadly serious, is actually pretty amusing thanks to the unquestionable urge of Japanese girls to shorten their skirts. All year, these girls have strutted around school showing so much leg it made you wonder why teenage boys would ever need to buy porn. They’d complain about how cold they were, never stopping to think that maybe a skirt longer than a pencil (oh how I wish that was an exaggeration) might be the answer. But how do ridiculously short pleated skirts relate to graduation?
When the students collect their certificates, they must face the principal, who is facing the audience. And because this is Japan, they must also bow. And because he’s the principal, they have to give him the deepest bow possible as a sign of respect. Do you know what happens when a teenage girl, wearing a 3-inch skirt on a raised stage, bows to the waist with her back to an audience of 500?
I think you can figure it out.
All I can say is, I was amused. I wish I could’ve seen their faces as they silently debated whether it was more shameful to disrespect the principal in front of the whole school, or just flash them her underwear.
My initial suspicions were correct, there was no way we were escaping speeches that easily. After the certificates had been delivered, everyone settled in to be moved (or bored) to tears by 90 minutes of emotional delivery, most with tragic music playing in the background to ensure everyone realised this was a dramatic event. I tried to stay awake, I really did. I actually care for these kids (unlike the ninensei, most of whom I’d like to see hanged) and wanted to share their big moment. But I’m pretty sure I nodded off at least 17 times. I clapped really enthusiastically at the end in the hopes of justifying myself, but there was probably little point as I’m pretty sure everyone noticed when my head snapped up between naps.
The good thing about graduation is, it only goes for half the day, and you get to spend the rest of the time talking to students, taking photos and signing books. Believe it or not, I actually busted out the formal wear for this monumental occasion, which meant I was wearing heels that gave me a good three inches. Really not necessary for a Japanese crowd. Of course, my freshly dyed hair, business suit and hooker boots were absolutely no match for one of the other English teachers, who came in formal kimono and hakama. She’s adorable enough ordinarily, but with that getup even the students were trying to kidnap her.
I was fortunate enough to get photos with most of my favourite students, though most of them were positively drenched in tears by that stage. I’m serious, these kids cry A LOT. Prior to the ceremony there had been a QUEUE of students in the staffroom requesting handfuls of tissues to stuff in their pockets for later. Most of the teachers took some spare too. I kind of felt bad for laughing so much. You’d laugh too if you witnessed Johnny Deppa trying to be serious. It’s like putting a suit on a monkey. No matter how good the suit, it still looks ridiculous.
