SCHOOL’S out for the stragglers on the Border this week.
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Fortunately, my lot was among them!
For some, primary school is out for good; yet others have long left high school in their wake after they got their Higher School Certificate and Victorian Certificate of Education results last week.
They are milestones that come around in the blink of an eye.
Seven years ago she looked lost and nervous, in a knee-length school dress and knee-high, white socks. Her socks were much longer than those worn by other girls but as with your first child starting school you follow the uniform dress code to the letter of the law!
It feels like just six months ago I snapped a photograph of my eldest daughter starting school dwarfed by the enormous Moreton Bay Fig tree in the middle of the kindergarten playground.
On Monday night she graduated from Grade 6.
Seven years ago she looked lost and nervous, in a knee-length school dress and knee-high, white socks. Her socks were much longer than those worn by other girls but as with your first child starting school you follow the uniform dress code to the letter of the law!
I remember a small group of Grade 1 girls coming over to talk to my daughter to make sure she was feeling OK on her first day of school.
I wanted to wrap them up in a big hug for their heartfelt kindness and generosity of spirit but I rightly decided that would be inappropriate.
My daughter’s kindergarten teacher, Mrs Rixon, issued the parents with a care package to help us get through the morning. From memory, it had tissues and tea bags and a solemn promise our kids were in good hands. I liked her immediately and knew we were on the same page from the outset. I drink too many cups of tea and cry far too easily.
I got to know many of my daughter’s peers in the infants school through the reading group activities at the school in those early years.
There is nothing more uplifting to a journalist than boys and girls encouraging each other to improve their reading, writing and spelling.
The world needs all of the good readers and writers it can get but, even more importantly, it needs kind people who raise each other up.
Finishing primary school is a rite of passage in the same order as the Grade 6 excursion to Canberra for many.
Unlike the spray tans and limos to the disco you hear of in some metropolitan areas to mark the milestone, I am thankful for the much more restrained and age-appropriate approach on the Border.
My daughter’s Grade 6 peer group put on a theatre production at their school, which was open to the public, eight times last week.
Teachers very often go above and beyond the curriculum to give their students rich and rewarding experiences they will treasure for life.
The kids may not remember the reading group rotations but they will never forget their school production or the Grade 6 trip to Canberra.
As a parent, I will long hold on to the memory of the kindergarten students singing Pharrell Williams’ song Happy to their Grade 6 buddies at the graduation assembly.
On Tuesday, I recreated that photograph of my eldest daughter under the Moreton Bay Fig tree in the middle of the kindergarten playground.
She drew the line at wearing two plaits in her hair though.
Her dress was shorter this time, as were her white sports socks, but, in every other way, she was taller.
She was still dwarfed by the tree but she had grown into the place, having been expertly and tenderly nurtured by some of the finest teachers in the trade: Mrs Rixon, Mrs Hogan, Mrs Goss, Mrs Fawcett, Mrs Harrison, Mrs Duck, Mrs Good, Mr Hill and Mr Dempsey.
In January my eldest will start secondary school, a whole year shorter than the time kids spend at primary school.
I’m going to do my best not to blink.
However, I don’t feel overly confident about it!
A very merry Christmas, dear readers, and a happy new year.