ジャッキーの これ、どう思う？ While we're on the topic ...

Cherry or plum blossoms in Vancouver just about to bloom JACKIE HOFFART PHOTO

During my first year as an ALT in Onomichi, I attended a graduation ceremony for the grade six students at one of my elementary schools. It wasn't required that I attend, but I bonded with that class so it was my pleasure to go. I had no idea what was in store for me.

The event was held in the school gymnasium on a bright March day, the kind where the cherry blossoms are just about to burst and the energy in town is hopeful. I couldn't understand what was being said at the ceremony so I relied on my senses to take in the event. The music played was melodramatic and sentimental, overly so, but it set a certain tone. It wasn't long before the children started to break down and cry, and nothing makes me cry faster than seeing other people, especially children, cry.

Strangely and surprisingly, I couldn't stop crying. I started to feel a little embarrassed. I mean, I barely knew these kids, but I felt so emotional. I still remember how the light spilled into the gymnasium, casting dusty spotlights on the procession of 12-year-olds about to leave behind the only school they've ever known. It was so dramatic and touching and sad. I must have experienced a kind of nostalgic catharsis. Bittersweet memories flooded my imagination and I was simply overtaken by emotion.

I remember that day fondly also because it taught me how emotional Japanese culture can be. There's a lot of sobriety in Japanese society, but also so much earnest and sincere appreciation of things and people.

And today I am moved in a similar way because this is the final installment of my column. I was surprised and sad to learn that the column was ending, but it's the nature of the industry that content needs to be changed and refreshed. I wish the ST the very best for its new approach.

What I want to say then, by means of epilogue, is that I am so grateful to my readers and the ST for the opportunity to sit down every two weeks, for the past two years, and try to tell a story that seemed worth sharing.

Looking back, it's not a coincidence that I have experienced some of the most profound changes of my adult life in that same time period. Two years ago I was living in London, in a relationship that didn't work, in a job that I hated, without a real sense of my goals. Now I live in Vancouver, have been to film school, and am working in the local industry. I experience more joy in my career than I ever thought was possible. And love, well, love will find a way back in, too.

It feels melodramatic to say this, perhaps a bit like the music at the graduation ceremony, but writing for the ST has changed my life for the better. With this column, I have tried to teach myself about how a delicate and personal story can be made universal if you try to be ruthless about telling the truth.

I have been and continue to be deeply moved by the emails that I receive from readers telling me how my little struggles and adventures have somehow touched their lives. People have written to say that they are quitting their jobs to go traveling, or to say that their opinion of gays and lesbians has been shifted by me writing so openly about my thoughts on marriage. I will cherish these notes forever.

Writing this column, I was also able to learn that it is the practice of doing something over and over again that helps one develop their talent into skills. This is common wisdom but to experience it firsthand can be something of a revelation.

Thank you for allowing me to be so sentimental, for allowing me to grow and change. And for letting me graduate and move on to other things. As the cherry blossoms appear again, I wish you all a lovely new year full of hopes and dreams, and the everyday practice of doing something you love.

With love, Jackie.