Some things are the same across cultures, the slowness of the last few days of school, the careful tracking of who is or isn't already done, the stress of finals, and the disorienting excitement of finally making it to summer break – even amongst the ones who are too little to know what we mean by the phrase.
We finish off the school year with face paint and pictures in front of wings that they worked together to color. With eggs before the ceremony starts and cookies and pop after, and with thank you's for the teachers and staff.
Parents pack onto the school bus with us, and the kids dress in their favorite, cleanest, brightest non-uniform clothes for the occasion, so that we are a riot of color lined up in desks under the mango tree.
Every kid gets a colorful pencil, an eraser, a sharpener, and two lollipops in a blue and white striped plastic baggie. The little ones get their report cards in folders that their teachers have spent hours coloring and decorating, and a few of the oldest ones are gifted with a beautiful new Jesus Storybook Bible.
The teachers pin up balloons and streamers in the lower classroom, and a large speaker follows us off of the bus. Because, nothing is a party if there isn't music.
"I am the hardest working kid in all of Haiti!"
They say it a dozen times just on this final morning alone, as we're trying to cement it into their minds before we hand out report cards, just how proud we are of them. Proud of the days that they came to school tired or hungry or worried about something that had happened at home. Proud of the days that they had a bad moment but they made it work anyways.
Proud of the good days when they were certain of all of the right answers and proud of the days when they took a deep breath and tried again.
All of them had half a year to try to jump 1-2 grade levels, after almost a full year away. 80% of them pulled it off.
Let me say that again: 80% of our kids came in behind and still passed their grade in the space between January and June.
In case you were wondering, that is pretty stinking impressive. We don't tell these kids that they are hard workers just to make them feel better!
Grade levels aren't tied so much to birthdates here, and kids aren't pushed ahead simply because the rest of their class is moving up. You either pass or you don't, and, if you don't, you try again.
Our 20% will meld with the kids who were a class below them, they'll take a deep breath, and they'll try again. And, they still will be the hardest working kids in all of Haiti.
We'll spread out the curriculum, slow it down and insert all of the pieces that we didn't have time for in this year's breakneck schedule. We'll switch up who is teaching what classes and take the time for trainings and workshops that we weren't able to before.
We'll work our tails off this summer to get it all ready, and we'll start back in the fall, not at a perfect school, but at one that is as good as we can make it.
One where we continue to give out hugs and bandaids. One where kids come knowing that they will be fed. One where visitors remark on the calm and the peace and the good manners of our children, not because they have been threatened or cajoled into submission, but simply because these kids like it here. Because they feel safe. Because they feel loved.
Because they are super smart and super kind and good listeners and the hardest working kids in all of Haiti.
Because, we like good grades, but we celebrate progress.
Good job, kids. Here's to a hot, sweaty summer of making things happen.
