Goodbyes can be messy, awkward and for many of us, the instinct to rush through them with distracted (or active) avoidance can be strong. As someone who has lived most of her adult life away from family on the other side of the world, I’m very familiar with the rushed, frenetic airport goodbye. As painful as goodbyes can be, not taking the time to do them properly somehow always feels worse. It wasn’t until I started working at Cheerful Helpers that I really learned the power of the thoughtful, intentional goodbye.
Here, July is a month of the long, but necessary goodbye. Children who are graduating are reflecting on all they have learned and getting ready to take the next step on their school journeys. Many interns who have completed a year or more of their clinical training are moving on. A teacher is also saying a “big” goodbye. Returning children and interns are talking about “medium” goodbyes, thinking about their breaks and knowing they will reconnect in September. Some things will stay the same and some things will be different.
The language and rituals around the Cheerful Helpers goodbye are special. As we watch our caterpillars turn into butterflies before finally releasing them, children reflect on the year that’s passed and how they feel about saying goodbye to some of their classmates. In these small groups, the bonds are strong and anticipated departures are deeply felt. As graduation day gets closer, we start practicing for the sweet graduation ceremony that everyone is a part of. We sing our special Cheerful Helpers anthem as well as the familiar “Green Grass'' song that despite its comforting repetition and familiarity, always feels unique for each fresh batch of graduates. After several years of this ceremony, I’ve learned that this lead up can be fraught. There are tears and protracted protests, but somehow, on the day of, it feels joyful and our students rise to the importance of the occasion.
Cheerful Helpers is a hard place to get to and a hard place to leave. I’m not sure who coined this phrase originally, but it’s one that feels especially meaningful that last Friday in July.
