It’s the end of Laura Carr’s TEFLing in Taiwan. Graduation time My university graduation ceremony was possibly the lamest in all graduation-ceremony history. The day began at 4am, when my dad drove me and my mum from Newcastle to Manchester. I spent about five minutes changing my clothes and brushing my hair in the car, thirty minutes queuing for my hat and gown, a further thirty minutes queuing to get my photo taken and then we headed over to the hall in which the ceremony was held. As Manchester is such a big university, they have graduations according to subjects, and since most of my friends studied different subjects, I didn’t even have friends to get excited with. My parents sat somewhere near the back of the hall and I sat somewhere near the front.
I was one of the first to be called up onto the stage, there was a moment of anticipation as I tried my best not to fall up the steps, some old person shook my hand and then I walked back down the steps and that was it. For the next four hours I clapped other people on and off the stage. When the tedious ceremony was finally over, we all piled into the department for sickly orange juice and digestive biscuits. Then we drove home. The only reason I remember the details of this otherwise forgettable day is because I know it’s supposed to be memorable. The Taiwanese wayKindergarten graduation ceremonies in Taiwan are altogether a different kettle of fish. A couple of Thursday evenings ago, the kids who are going to elementary school (the seniors) officially graduated. The girls had on their fancy white dresses and the boys wore little bow-ties and white shirts – it was all very cute. The evening kicked off with a child-parent-teacher gathering in the classrooms – we looked at pictures of the children over the two years I’ve taught them, and then the parents seated me and my Taiwanese co-teacher down and gave us each a very fancy necklace as a thank you. Now, I’m not normally one to cry but that had me in floods of tears, which had a very detrimental effect on my makeup and left me scuttling around trying to find tissues to blow my nose. It was all very moving but very embarrassing too. Even more embarrassing was when I had to get up and make a speech, which no-one had told me to prepare. All I needed to say was how much I had enjoyed working at the school and teaching the children but I was so overcome with emotion for the little nippers that I ambitiously attempted to express my love for each child individually: I rambled on about how James would be president one day and Cherry was the most adorable child alive and Eric was the best big brother his little sister could hope for and on and on and on I went, as the parents looked on in uneasy bemusement. Grand finaleOn to the big event … the parents sat down in the school hall and the kids and teachers entered waving little lights and smiling at the flashing of cameras. Next, about one hundred children performed a musical number on their trusty recorders and then the individual class performances began. We performed Stand By Me, and aside from little Bobby thinking it would be really funny to wail and stamp his feet at the line ‘No, I won’t shed a tear’, all went smoothly! Each child was presented with a Memory Book, which included photographs and examples of their work and their foot and hand prints, and then, of course, came the photo-taking opportunities. For the grand finale, the teachers got up on the stage for a little sing-song and then all the children clambered onto the stage to give us flowers. For me, it was time to go home, but for the children the night had just begun. They had a class sleep-over complete with home-made waffles for breakfast. Apparently, there were quite a lot of tears, but most of them had a good time. In the morning they were completely hyper-active and while I was feeling all distraught at the thought of never seeing them again, they were bouncing around with excitement and celebrating their last day of kindergarten ever, which is how it should be, I suppose. Over the top? Well, of course but as far as I’m concerned Manchester University could learn a few lessons on how to throw a real rite of passage from Taiwanese Kindergartens! Ex-teacherSo I am now officially not a Teacher of English any more. I miss being around children already, and even though it’s blissful to not have to get up on the morning, I find myself getting jealous when my boyfriend comes home with funny stories about what his children have done that day. On a final note, I’d like to add that I WANT MY CHILDREN BACK! I BELONG IN DINOSAUR CLASS! I WANT TO STAY IN TAIWAN! I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK TO ENGLAND ANYMORE!!! Only joking. I think. See Laura's previous blog and her earlier writings:
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