It was one of those moments that make you feel like you’ve arrived. Those moments that you had previously thought: only other people can do these things, can be in these places, witness these things, and photograph these subjects.
Standing in a kindergarten classroom in a small brick school house in rural Ethiopia, the feeling hit me. Somewhere in between unbelief, pride, and thankfulness. As I stood off to the side of the classroom, and snapped a few photos, I marveled at the opportunity that I was in the midst of. The children sat in small plastic chairs, their teacher, a girl seemingly around my own age, stood up front, and I was the only foreigner in the room.
The children were preparing for their kindergarten graduation. Half of them wore dress clothes, while the other half wore little black caps and gowns. On the other side of this small school building, a classroom packed with parents, waited patiently. I listened as the teacher instructed the students in their language that I obviously couldn’t understand. After taking my few snapshots, I stepped out to rejoin the other adults so as not to linger and cause a distraction to the kids.
My team, along with a couple parents, and the school administrator waited in the yard for the children to come out, line up at the flagpole, and say the pledge of allegiance. During this time we spoke with the tall African man who ran the school. He wore a suit and spoke perfect English as he thanked us for attending, and for visiting their small town. As foreigners we became the honored guests at the graduation, along with Melaku who was regarded as an elder.
As the ceremony began, the children began with the pledge, and then we all joined the other parents in the packed school room. The children presented songs, competed in buzzer challenges, and received gifts and awards for their good grades. The event then moved on to cutting bread, eating lunch, and drinking coffee as the ceremony continued.
We made a new friend that afternoon, as this beautiful little girl joined her mother and sat on her lap directly next to us in the row. No surprise, Caleigh and her hit it off. For the next hour we played with our new friend; she braided Caleigh’s hair, put on my hat, and took some pictures with us up to the end of the long ceremony.
At the end of the festivities, everyone was dismissed, the children ran out to the yard to play with their friends, we said our goodbyes to the people we had met, and we gathered our group to return home. The house mothers from the orphanage helped to organize the kids, and help move us all across the town back to the compound again.
Looking back on the photos from this day, that feeling of unbelief resurges. How many photographers can say that they have gotten to photograph a kindergarten graduation in rural Ethiopia? How many people can say they became an honored guest at such an occasion? I am so thankful for this opportunity that I was blessed with, and will always value the photos I was able to capture.
