My son-in-love came bounding up the steps of the apartment: “You ready” We gotta go clap ‘em out.”
I hadn’t expected to see him at that time because his children – my grandchildren – were in school. That Monday in June in Cedar Knolls, New Jersey was the last day of school for 6-year-old Imani and 11-year-old Xavion. The day was scheduled to be a short one, but I thought that they would be dropped off by bus, and then explode up the steps, just as they had for the previous week I had spent with them. But dad showed up to take me to the school to participate in a tradition.
In an email to the parents and guardians of fifth-graders graduating from Mountview Road elementary school, Principal Carmen Bellino wrote, “It seems, traditionally, parents have always lined up outside the fifth grade doorway on the last day of school to ‘clap out’ the fifth grade students as they exit the building for the last, final time as MTV students.” She goes on to point out that, although the ritual is not a school-sanctioned event, she has no objections to the observation of the “5th Grade Clap Out,” provided that the parents respect the rules of the school grounds.
My daughter met us at the school, where a crowd of parents, guardians, siblings and friends lined both sides of the path that led from a side door of the school. They were holding ribbon-wrapped bags of goodies and carrying bottles of seltzer water, cans of “silly string” and waving streamers and balloons. The people chatted and laughed, until they heard a bell ring inside the school. The side door opened and suddenly, the school disgorged a line of 5th graders. There followed an occasion of revelry, where the students were sprayed with silly string, chased and doused with seltzer water, gifted with flowers and covered with streamers.
Some grump once noted that “kids these days” seem to be celebrated for what (the grump thought) are the most mundane achievements. “Who graduates from kindergarten with a robe and diploma,” he growled. (The person wrote it, but in a growling tone.) The implication was that over-celebrating children’s accomplishments diminished the impact of the “real” achievements. It is possible that the grump never had occasion to train a small one to use a receptacle for the deposit of urine and feces that was not strapped on the butt. “YAY,” we clap, then, unceremoniously dump the precious contents down the flusher. Conflicting message, much?
Few people would argue against the benefits of positive reinforcement of behaviors we want our children to internalize. Unlike the aforementioned grump, I do not resent the efforts a group of parents have made to celebrate a particular ripple in the stream of a child’s life. If there was a similar ceremony for me and my generation, I do not remember it, but that does not invalidate the efforts of the parents I saw this June. We may have had to walk to school barefoot in the snow, uphill both ways, but new days bring new standards, and stickers on our papers and smiley faces on the teachers’ note home to the parents.
In Paul Cebar’s song, “Clap for the Couple,” an aimless man who can accomplish nothing well, decides that he will “clap for the couple down the hall.” On the path leading from the 5th grade exit door at Mountain View Road School, a spontaneous gesture has grown into a tradition, the annual observation of which harms no one, and delights many.
I’m delighted to have clapped for my grandson on the path.