Commencement at this Santa Ana school was a serious ordeal. Boys had to wear ties. Girls' dresses required shoulder straps at least 2 inches wide. Families brought balloons and flowers and decorated their cars with white shoe polish. Five rehearsals ensured flawless filing in and out of the auditorium by students in red gowns.
But if something did go awry, it was hardly the end of the world. After all, they were only leaving middle school.
At schools like Spurgeon Intermediate in a hardscrabble Santa Ana neighborhood, graduation is a time of pomp and ceremony. And, officials and parents concede, there is resignation to the fact that some will never make it through the 12th grade. Administrators have cautiously maintained the tradition, but only while also urging parents to be restrained and save the climactic celebrations for future graduations, like those in high school or even college.
Schools throughout the country in recent years have eliminated or scaled back eighth-grade graduations, concerned that over-the-top ceremonies too closely resemble high school graduations and imply finality rather than a mere transition to further education.
It is a serious concern in cities such as Los Angeles with dismal high school graduation rates. Although state dropout statistics are notoriously hard to pin down, more than one-third of the students in the Los Angeles Unified School District -- about twice the state average -- will not make it through their senior year, and graduation rates at the lowest-performing schools hover near 40%. In the neighborhood where Spurgeon is located, nearly four out of 10 students do not complete 12th grade, state figures show.
The ceremonies take on a deeper significance and sometimes become a source of pride in cities with large Latino immigrant communities such as Anaheim, Santa Ana or Pomona, where many parents did not make it past eighth grade themselves.
In Santa Ana, officials have tried to temper the occasion by no longer referring to it as graduation. Instead, said Spurgeon Principal Robert Laxton, it is called "promotion," because "this isn't the end of the line; we are promoting them to high school."
That attitude is widespread.
In Long Beach, eighth-graders get decked out in their Sunday best but do not sport gowns at their "promotionals."
In San Bernardino, students attend a no-frills "promotion" with only a certificate and a few words from their principal.
