Wednesday, June 22, 2011

...From Where It Is That I Come From...

The Clap Out....

If you are from Wyckoff, you know what I mean.... and I don't know, even if you are not from here, you may still know...but I didn't know what a Clap Out was until last year at this time, when Ellie was a 4th grader...

Now she's a 5th grader...the oldest kids in the school...and Thursday afternoon Ellie and Washington School 5th grade Class of 2011 will exit their classrooms at 12:55 p.m., walk through the hallways passing every classroom along the way...they will pass the art room and the resource room and the media center and the gym and the main office until they come to the front door. During the walk, the rest of the students and all the teachers and staff will stand outside their rooms and offices, cheering and applauding the 5th graders as they walk out of Washington School for the very last time as a class...as students...as little kids. A Clap Out. And we parents will be waiting on the front circle clapping as they exit...though I don't know how I will do that because I am weeping just imagining this taking place...shaking a little as I write this down.

This is one of the traditions that reminds me why we are lucky to live in a small town...how we all know one another's kids and parents and dogs and we look out for each other....and we know each of those kids that will be Clapped Out Thursday afternoon...and the next day we will turn around and they will be graduating from College...just like that.

When it came time to have children and settle in a home of our own, we considered the entire New York metropolitan area...we thought maybe we would stay in Manhattan...but one thing of which we were certain was that we wanted more than one child, and that seemed difficult to impossible for the City living we envisioned. So we looked in Fairfield County for a while...and we drove around Garden City looking at Open Houses for a day too. The front-runner had been Northern Westchester for a while... But who was I kidding? I was lying the whole time...I had a different front-runner in mind. My family is here...it's where I am from...I knew I was coming back all along.

I always say that I from here...but truth is, I am not from Wyckoff, per se...I am from Franklin Lakes...the next town over... And you may not believe that these little towns that share a high school could possibly be anything but carbon copies, but as connected and
related as the two towns are...sister towns, even...they are different...and the people they breed are different from each other too. When we settled in Wyckoff, much to my own surprise, I
was kind of a stranger to the way of life....I mean, we had just left The City, where I am pretty sure we said hello to our next door neighbor only once in 4 years...and that was when we found him making out with some girl in our doorway... And you know, I expected this place to be just like my hometown less than a mile down Franklin Avenue... See, growing up in Franklin Lakes our social scene had revolved around seeing our neighborhood friends at The Indian Trail Club and 11:15 Mass at Most Blessed Sacrament...we had tennis lessons and swim team and cookouts in The Club's "Grove" every Friday in the summertime. But we lived on properties that distanced you from your closest neighbors...and we didn't play in the street or the front lawn very much...it was backyard living all the way. And Franklin Lakes was a fantastic place to grow up...it still is... But I was unprepared when I moved here, and frankly, not all that comfortable with my Wyckoff neighbors out mowing their lawns wanting to talk to me and comment on the color of my front door or the fence we put in
or the tree that was creaking near the swing set. I was surprised on Labor Day that first year when people parked all up and down our street so they could easily walk to the fireworks at Memorial Field... I was confused when
the whole town lined Wyckoff Avenue to watch the kids walk in the Memorial Day parade together... And there were block parties and
playground visits and fishing derbies and Friday nights at Brookside...all these picture-perfect, small town moments for our family to become a part of...

Soon I got used to it here and I immersed myself in the scene... I began inviting neighbors for a Labor Day barbecue and letting the kids walk in the parade and making appetizers for the block party and planning my day around the playground and talking to the neighbors about my new fence and paint colors and the creaky trees....


And my kids grew and I volunteered and hosted parties and made very dear friends...and in the
blink of an eye, we arrived at this year and I became PTO President. And even then...with all that "immersion," I found, truthfully, that fish-out-of-water feeling comes back sometimes. As much as I love being involved, sometimes being a part of all that overwhelmed me...sometimes I felt...I still feel...like it can be hard to hide...that everyone knew my business...that we shared our lives so openly with so many people here... It can be a difficult balance to strike...I want to be a part of the community...I want to have an impact and for people to know our kids and my parents and the dog and I want people to look out for us...but I want to be alone sometimes too. I don't know...was it possible all along I was meant to be somewhere else? I began to wonder when, if ever, I would...or could...retreat...

Then late this Spring the town, and the school, suffered a tragedy...a heartbreaking loss that shook us all....and it was then that I was again reminded of the beauty of being from a small town... Being surrounded by people, even those who aren't in your social circle, who will step up to help you...to support your family...to band together...without a second thought. I know this phenomena often occurs surrounding tragedy...but being in a position now where people came to me for direction, I saw the overwhelming outreach that was offered firsthand...and to say I was beyond moved is an understatement...

And I remembered why I wanted my family rooted here in the first place...because we are the kind of people who stand outside the elementary schools and clap as loud as we can for our kids...because most of these 5th graders have been here since they were babies...and they are a part of all of us...the future moms and dads who will carry on these close-knit traditions and love for what makes us the community of families that we are...

And so...the Clap Out...

Maybe our Principal said it best the night of the 5th grade musical...his words straightforward, but filled with meaning...we all knew, even as he commended the kids and their terrific performance of, fittingly, The Wizard of Oz...we knew that he was referring to the outpouring of heart and passion that had flowed this Spring...and I can't think of a better way to express how I am feeling...what I want these kids to remember when they look back upon this moment in time...when we turn around in a second and they are graduating from College...

"There's no place like home..."


Photos:
1. Kindergarten Ellie...2005
2. 5th grade Ellie, with great pal, Alysse...2011
3. The Wyckoff train stop...where I have never seen a train stop...
4. At the Labor Day fireworks, my boys and Matthew...2010
5. Will's first Wyckoff Memorial Day parade...2011
6. Some friends from town commonly known as The Sistas...2010
7. My three...enjoying a summer afternoon at Indian Trail Club...just like I had before them...