It’s a big day chez Sato–Thing 3 leaves behind her elementary school (which in our town ends in 2nd grade) and is promoted to the Upper Elementary School (grades 3-6). Thing 3 is so excited–the Mister is picking her up at lunch and she’s coming home to change into her hand-me-down lovely and age and situation-appropriate dress, and following the ceremony at 1pm, there’s an ice cream social.
Many folk around here refer to this as “graduation.” I don’t. Graduation happens at the end of grade 12, and for those who go onto college or university, at the end of those studies. Second graders do not graduate. Because all second graders end up in 3rd grade. It just happens. That’s the way school works. But in my town, because of the odd building situation, we celebrate these non-graduating circumstances in 2nd, 6th, and 8th grades. Since I have 3 Things, it seems every time I turn around, I’m being asked to make something special of a non-event that for the vast majority of the rest of the country (and world?) is just a regular, ordinary occurance. In fact, on Friday evening, we were treated to Thing 2’s “graduation” from 8th grade. In the fall, she will attend high school, in the same building, with the same teachers where she has spent the past two years. But she got nice dress and a party out of it…
Lest I be marked a curmudgeon, I will happily attend, and jockey for the best photography position and smile so big at my Thing 3, but every time another parent talks about how great this ‘graduation’ ceremony is, etc., i will silently say to myself ‘she’s not graduating–she’s moving along to grade 3.’
To steel myself for the upcoming barrage of language misusage, I ran a great 3 miles prior to my 1.72 mile walk/run with the Formidibles, who again increased by 1 person–this time an adult. We are now 4 adults, 2 children and one dog. The dog is a real trooper.