Tomorrow we will watch our 9th graders graduate from junior high to high school. It's an emotional time for me. It's filled with excitement, but also some sadness. Beyond my own feelings of connected-ness or disconnected-ness with my school staff and this graduating class, it’s also a time which makes me thoughtful for individual graduating students.
This transition is quite different from its American counterpart. Students here study very hard to take difficult entrance exams for high school (like we do for college), and then they compete to get into the best public high schools. Private schools are also available for students, but they are very expensive and generally not as well-respected… and if students can’t pay the fees, they may be out of luck. They may not get to go to high school. Unlike most of America, high school isn't guaranteed to Japanese students.
I have one student whose English is superb, who will be going to an elite high school in Hokkaido (the northernmost island of Japan). I am so proud of him. I know he will accomplish great things. I also have another student who will not be going to high school at all, and has no idea, in fact, what he will be doing next week. It’s a lot to have on your shoulders as a 14 year-old. He may not find work. His sister wasn’t able to go to high school, either, and she works full-time at a restaurant in town.
One student is from a wealthy and respected family, and the other is from a poor, not-so-well-respected family. One had the best education his parents could provide, from an early age, and the other was basically neglected by his family…so much so that he once resorted to stealing food.
They are two kids with very different stories, and I had only a smallest glimpse into their lives. I don’t know if I made a difference, but I hope I did. Each one needs different things. Ultimately, I can’t, in and of myself, give either of them what they need to succeed in this next chapter of their lives. You look at them, and you know they have no idea what is in store for them. Older and wiser, you understand at least a little how much their lives are about to change. What can I say to them? How do I pray? I don’t know. My mind rests on the last line of the “Old Irish Blessing.” May God hold them in the palm of his hand.
