8/12/2019 14to15.pdf
1/2
14
The other day, as part of my duties as an ALT (Assistant
Language Teacher) at a junior high school, I attended my
schools graduation ceremony. Before the ceremony, I gave
no thought as to what I would witness. I mean, a graduation is a
grad-
uation. So I thought.
As I entered the gym to find my seat, the first thing I noticed
was
that the entire student body was present. I had always thought
gradua-
tion ceremonies were only for the graduating class and family
and
that the other grades were not invited. I also noticed and
which
seems to be a reoccurring theme of Japanese life was the
separa-
tion of boys from girls. Female students were on one side of the
aisle,
male students on the other.
As the graduating class entered the gym in a slow procession,
they
did not look upbeat. And the music ... there was no Pomp and
Circumstance about it. To tell you the truth, it seemed
downright
mournful. If there was electricity in the air, it was surely not
the kind
I was used to.
The graduation proceeded with speeches and the conferring of
diplomas, and then a succession of songs. The first song, a kind
of
farewell serenade, was sung by the 1st (in the U.S. 7th) and 2nd
grade
students. The refrain I heard was natsukashii hibi, or wistful
days.
Then it was graduating classs turn to sing a song. I could see
some
girls struggling to sing while trying to hold back tears. Their
faces
turned red and looked worn out. Some gave up the struggle and
wept
into their hand towels. Even some of the troublemakers (male)
who I
thought were hopeless cases were, by all appearances, moved. To
me
it seemed unjust, if not cruel, to have the graduating class
singing
their own swan song.
Time waits for no one
As the last song, sung by everyone, filled the gymnasium, I
couldfeel my own legs shaking and growing weak, my palms breaking
out
in a sweat, my whole body in a hot flash, my face flushed, my
head
reeling. I was on the verge, for some reason. Perhaps it was the
sight
of young teenage girls crying. Or perhaps the music itself had
some
kind of primordial effect like Amazing Grace has on some
people
or a beautiful aria from a Beijing Opera has on me. Or
finally
perhaps, I, like the graduating class, could sense the
inexorable
passage of time there in that gym: that Time waits for no one.
And
that this was really it: this was the end; finality had arrived.
No doubt
about it. Like it or not, friendships must come an end.
A Ce re m on y th at Il lus trate d Wh at J apansGrou p Orie n t
e d So c ie t y is All About
Text: Terry OBRIEN
Perspectives on Japan
