Eighth Grade Promotion

Noah ended up feeling like he made friends here, but there were times when I had grave concerns about the social experience at school. I really do want my kids to get out of their rooms, but when I hear about what goes on in the rough and tumble of adolescent life I wonder if it is worth it.

One last trip into Managua for Eighth Grade Promotion, except this time in a borrowed car because we already sold our beloved RAV 4. We sat by ourselves. The only person I marginally know, recognize, would be more accurate, is a mom who only speaks Korean and I didn’t see her when I sat down. The kids looked very spiffy in their dark pants/skirts and white shirts. Amazing how short and tight girls in eighth grade can interpret the dress code. It must be the age. I always feel the same way about the bat mizvah girl.

As the kids got up to get there diplomas, their names were like a who’s who of Nicaraguan business and politics. I usually cringe when teachers and administrators get up and say, you are the leaders of the next generation. Here though it is very likely true. It is a very small pond. These kids’ families have been in control for ages and they will continue. The student speaker, Krista, hit it right. She told her classmates, “We are sitting here under a million dollar roof [ANS has the largest covered athletic area in the country] and the only thing our country is famous for is poverty. What are we going to do?”

Noah said his not terribly emotional good-byes. With facebook, I guess you never really have to say good-bye. We went home to celebrate with lunch at Garden Café.