Farewell

The last day of school was truly bittersweet. It was exciting to be that much closer to my beloved USA but so incredibly hard to say goodbye to these kids. They have honestly "stolen my heart," to borrow a line from Dashboard Confessional. I fell in love with these students over the course of the year and I will never forget them. It was incredible to go through the high's and low's of a year together, celebrating and crying with them. They made me laugh, they brought countless smiles to my face, and as I told them at the last assembly, they were a light in every single one of my days in Belize. I told them that when it was hard for me and I really missed home, they were the lights and joy that kept me going. I already miss them terribly.

On the last day of school, two of my friends that are also volunteer teachers told me to stop by classroom 2H after I purchased my lunch. I instantly grew a little excited because I figured I'd be able to hang out with some of my students and say goodbye to them (the last day is a bit of a frenzy as everyone runs around trying to sign yearbooks and gives hugs). I walked toward classroom 2H. I did not expect what happened when I walked through that door. Almost every single one of my music students was in the classroom and they all clapped and screamed when I walked in (yes, literally screamed). It was amazing! Emotion flooded me and I just kept hugging student after student. IM was bent over screaming on the top of his lungs in three's (he doesn't just scream once, he screams three times) and each time his head would shake and I couldn't stop laughing. Mr. D said to me, "Beth, stop hugging them just for a minute you can do that later. Here have a seat." (Huh?)

All of a sudden they cue something on the computer and all the girls and boys turn towards me. Then one of my students, W, steps forward with a sheet of music and he starts singing a SOLO. They had practiced a song for me!! It was absolutely beautiful. I felt like I was in a movie. I was overwhelmed. They sang "Thank You For the Music" by ABBA. I couldn't believe that they had been practicing this with Miss B and Miss L during the week. It was the best gift I could have received from those music classes! I will always remember that afternoon in 2H. Thank you again to Miss B and Miss L and all of my students who worked to make this so special! Thank you to Mr. D for being present and supportive.

I will continue to update this blog with reflections and adventures from my ten months in Belize (there are plenty more stories!). I will write a little about my transition back into America in my other blog that is located on the side of the page entitled "My other blog". Thank you for all of your support, generosity, prayers, and comments! There were times when it was very difficult and those prayers held me up.

God Bless. Over and out.

The Skinny Jean Fiasco

Your Parents Picketed against Vietnam. We picket for skinny jeans.

One crisis. Two frazzled administrators. Ten confused teachers. Two hundred distraught fifteen-year-old girls. The culprit: skinny jeans.

It was community service day. The sun shone brightly and faces and necks glistened with sweat. It was a day like most others in our beautiful town in Belize. Today students would be displaced throughout the community in order to complete acts of service, anything from cleaning yards to getting prolife-petition signatures. We split into groups with a teacher in charge of each group and prepared to leave the campus in order to execute our mission. As we gathered in the yard, tensions grew at the gate. Why weren't we leaving yet? We were all supposed to be on our various community service routes. We come to find out we are not leaving because the girls in skinny jeans are being examined and placed into two groups. The girls were specifically asked not to wear skinny jeans this day and were now facing the consequences. Miss B., like myself, was growing impatient to begin our service day.

Miss B: Why hasn’t your class left yet?
Mr. M: If your class isn’t going, then my class isn’t going. If your girls won’t work then my boys won’t work. We have to show them that we are serious about this. We have a sit-in so they will give us what we want.

Girls passionately plop onto the grass, justice blazing in their eyes. I can hear echoes in the distance of my mind: We won’t go down without a fight (a fight for trendy jeans?). Second , Third, and Fourth Form girls line up on the streets with jeans of a casual fit, jeans of a snug fit, and jeans in a third category of fit that is simply unable to be defined. Administration points to the “pass” and “fail” lines of skinny-jean acceptability. Young ladies everywhere erupt in disbelief and cry out against those chosen to “pass” and those chosen for the “fail” lines. (Is there such a thing as Calvinist predestination for skinny-jeandom?)

We, the other teachers, look around us in confusion: How much longer is this going to take? The boys classes, on the other hand, don't seem to mind the delay at all. They are stretched out on the field or busy chatting with the girls. The principal is then seen coming out of the building and I run to his side in order to find out a way to taper the tension rising on Mt. Carmel High School grounds.

“Mr. R,” I say, “I think we are losing the letter behind the law here.”
“Yes, yes, Miss Bethany, I agree.”
“Well maybe next time we have a casual day…”
Mr. R’s face grows serious and he looks at me and says, “Miss Bethany, there will not be a next time.”

Alas, casual days have become a rarity at MCHS. There was, though, a fashion show that displayed proper attire for MCHS dress-down-days at one point. The horror that next year’s casual day could bring is unknown to me and perhaps it will become a lost art for community service day. We can only wonder.