As the students arrived for the first day of their academic year, I was yet again surprised by all the pomp and circumstance surrounding school activities in Turkey. When I was in school, many years ago in south Texas, there were no ceremonies to mark the beginning of another year of learning. We simply arrived at school, usually laden with school supplies, found our classrooms and desks and then our year began. Parents were not expected to participate in the process, but were instead later invited to attend the school open house that was scheduled for an evening after classes had gotten under way. The purpose of the open house was to give parents the chance to meet with the teachers and discuss their child’s progress. The only time I remember my mother accompanying me to school was on my very first day of kindergarten and, even then, parents were urged to drop their children off and go on their way so that the teacher could begin her work. At Ali Adem’s school, however, there are drawn out ceremonies at both the beginning and end of the school year. And, as usual, I appeared at the school expecting to just take him to his classroom, help him arrange his locker with all his school gear and then head off back to home and work.
This past Monday, however, my husband, Ali Adem and I arrived at school to find all the students gathering in the garden in front of the school. The children lined up in front of their teachers and, as parents milled around in clusters, my husband and I went into the school and up the stairs to the classroom. We noticed as we passed into the building that all the parents had cameras ready. Perhaps to snap a quick photo of their child heading into the school, I thought.
My husband and I, unaware that the first day of school was such a big deal, were the only parents without a camera in hand. We had assumed that the students would line up alongside their teachers and sing the İstiklâl Marşı, the Turkish national anthem, as they do every Monday morning and Friday afternoon, and then file into their classrooms. Since we were in the dark about the rest of the formal procedure, we had gone upstairs to our son’s classroom and unloaded the bags with all his school supplies into his locker while he was downstairs with his class. It was not until we began to head downstairs to the garden that we discovered we had missed almost half of the formalities to celebrate the first day of school.
Peering out from one of the second floor windows my husband and I watched as events unfolded below us. Several students made speeches about the importance of education and their love of their school. The sixth-grade choir then proceeded to sing the school song, which was followed by another speech, this time from the director of the school. Finally, much to our relief, the Turkish flag was unfurled; everyone stood at attention and sang the national anthem. The İstiklâl Marşı was the only time that the parents stood still and stopped snapping with their cameras for any length of time. Puzzled, we continued to watch from above as the students entered the building, following behind as their teachers led the way to the classrooms. We noticed many of the parents in the garden becoming misty-eyed as they watched their children disappear into the school.
Because of my own relatively non-eventful school experiences, it always comes as a bit of a surprise to me to see how important such ceremonies seem to be in Turkey. I often wonder what the other parents make of me. It is quite possible that since I do not bring a camera to all of the school events that they feel I may be a bit uncaring, or unsentimental. I have to confess, I do enjoy watching the various formal presentations at the school, but many times I sit through them in confusion as I try to piece together what is happening. With my limited grasp of the language, I am sure that I miss out on quite a lot. Hopefully, this year I will understand more of the important school events. And I will try to remember to bring a camera along, just in case.
Send comments and questions to k.hamilton@todayszaman.com. 
