School is out and I got to participate in a great year-end event yesterday. It's called a "Clap-Out." At this particular elementary school the fifth graders are moving on to the middle school next year. Every year for the past 14 years the students are sent on their way on the last day of school by parents, friends and families. The younger students and all of the visitors lined the hallways. The fifth graders walk through while being cheered and clapped into summer and, in the fall, a new school.
It was a great way to say good-bye to the children and to the school year. The parents gathered at the two balloon arches representing the elementary school colors and the middle school colors. One mother admitted that she cried when she dropped her daughter off that morning. In the gym where the fifth graders gathered, teachers and staff members passed out tearful hugs and said good bye.
When the parade began the children whooped and clapped, slapped five and congratulated the fifth graders. The parents swung into action, cameras in hand, video rolling. Once again, it was an event that was hard to capture. Emotional, yes. I wish I had better pictures.
Once the kids went out to the buses, the teachers and staff followed. As the buses pulled away all of the windows filled with little arms waving good bye. In the parking lot, horns blared and children howled with joy.
"My daughter cried, I cried, my son cried. It was great," one dad said.
What a send-off.
TARB
Lesser Journalists are a hard-working bunch, but we don't have the perks that some other journalists have. The "E" sticks on our keyboards; when we walk into a room of complete strangers, everyone knows our names because they see our faces in the paper when it comes out every week; "middle class" is relative. The community loves us, the community hates us. We love our jobs. We hate out jobs. We love our jobs, again.
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