The Ongoing Ripples of Childhood Friendships

Written 20 October, posted 27 October 2024

1974, Class of 3rd Primary, European School Brussels I. Photo credits: school photographer.

(Approval gained from all those in the photo I am still in touch with, and with all names mentioned in the text below. Gracious thanks to you all for your rich contributions, friendship and trust).

The Ongoing Ripples of Childhood Friendships

It’s been 40 years since I took my Baccalaureate in 1984 and left secondary school at the European School I in Brussels. For some of my school friends, Brussels and our school were our wider home for over a decade; others passed through for a shorter time. But regardless of how long we were there, for me at least, it was an enormously formative period—one that shaped me, grounded me, and left a mark that continues to ripple through my life.

Every five years since the 20th anniversary of our Baccalaureate (in 2004), I’ve taken on the task of organising a reunion. It’s always been a chance to reconnect, reminisce, and reaffirm the ties that bind us across time and distance. I am the instigator of these reunions—hunting down, inviting, and cajoling people, generating interest in attending. A couple of friends still living in Brussels are invaluable in scouting venues for our gatherings and hosting those who prefer not to stay in hotels.

But in 2019, we didn’t meet. It was the year Julia died, and organising a gathering was utterly beyond me. When COVID struck the following year, I felt less alienated because we were all experiencing some form of isolation. I organised a virtual meeting, and a good number of us came together online, with old friends joining from Australia to the Dominican Republic, and from many places across Europe, the US, and Canada. It felt extraordinary to connect despite the distance, reminding me that these friendships, however sporadic or faded, are still alive.

This year, as 40 years loomed, I felt the need to close a circle—or complete a cycle. I had an urge to see those familiar faces again, the ones I grew up with when the world seemed simpler and kinder, and our destinies unwritten.

Why Did You Come?

I wanted this gathering to be more than just a weekend of light chatter and catching up. I had two questions in mind that I wanted to ask people: Why did you come? and What would you like us to know about how you are, how you have been since we last met?

Initially, I hoped to find a moment during the Saturday night dinner to convene everyone and share these questions live. But the restaurant was too noisy, and the opportunity slipped away. I did ask the questions to those I managed to have one-to-one conversations with, but I didn’t get around to everyone. So afterwards, I reached out to the group, inviting them to reflect on these questions. Amazingly, all but one person has responded.

These questions are not superficial for me; they are invitations to share at any level each person feels comfortable with, to truly be seen, and most importantly, to witness one another’s journeys through life.

Reflecting on my own reasons for organising the reunion, I noted: “Because 40 years is massive. We have had a reunion every five years from 20 years after the Baccalaureate. We celebrated 20, 25, and 30 years, meeting in person. But at 35 years, my youngest child took her life, and no one else organised anything—not that I could possibly have gone. But I felt, I noticed, the gap. A year later in 2020, during COVID, I felt capable of organising something online, which was a necessary step if I was ever to be able to reconnect with this group again. And now, this year, for our 40 years, I simply wished to complete a circle or cycle—to come back together one more time and see if and how ancient and precious school friendships might still support me when so much in my life has crumbled. While only a few of these friendships have lasted deeply and richly, the fact that they have lasted at all, given our geographic spread, feels incredible, and I feel blessed. I wanted to see these faces one more time—to be with people I was only ever innocent and hopeful with.”

I have had some rich responses from people. Many came to rekindle a shared history, as Antoinette expressed: “We shared something special and unique, somehow being together again brings us back there, even if briefly.” Rebecca said something that profoundly resonates with me: “We have shared experiences and memories that only we can truly understand, and that bond remains & will remain, no matter how much time or distance separates us. Despite living our own lives across the world and not being in regular contact, there is a familiarity with each of us that makes reconnecting easy…even & especially whilst speaking in foreign languages, all within a same sentence! I love it!” Yes indeed! I know very few people in the world who will understand a sentence I utter comprising three, or even four, languages. But European School buddies do!

Others came out of curiosity about where life had taken everyone since, like Geraldine, who said, “I like our class—I feel fond feelings for a lot of people, want to see them again, and am curious about life decisions they have made. Those teenage years are pretty intense, and relationships from then have a lasting impact.”

Some came for simple joy, as Tanya put it: “I have very happy memories of school, and it was a real treat to catch up with friends after so many years.” For Sarah, there was a deeper pull: “I have travelled around a lot, and when you are a global nomad, it’s easy to feel rootless. These friendships root me chronologically… As I age, and as I keep losing people, I feel that any opportunity to reconnect with people I don’t get to see very often, I should grab.”

Nathalie’s response spoke to the meaningful connections that emerged during the reunion: “I reconnected with several people in what felt like empathetic and genuine conversations. I rediscovered certain classmates and really like the people they have become. I noticed that people spoke less about their work and more about their parents and children—the relationships in their lives.” Her words resonated with a recurring theme of moving beyond superficial conversation to explore deeper aspects of our shared experiences.

There was also a shared sense of comfort in embracing how we are now. Antonia reflected on the genuine interest and acceptance present throughout the weekend: “It was comforting to be together over a weekend and share memories as well as stories about ourselves. There was a vibe of genuine interest in each other that was affirming—nobody had an agenda other than spending time together and sharing memories and life experiences.” It felt as though we were reconnecting not just with each other, but with our younger selves—accepting who we are now, without the need for masks.

Ian’s reflections captured a sense of both nostalgia and the passage of time: “I came to see old classmates and hear how they are doing, but also to reconnect with Brussels. The Deep Time Walk had a big pull for me, as it’s a subject I’m interested in, and it was great to have you lead us. There’s a growing realisation of my own mortality, and now that I’ve stepped off the professional ‘hamster wheel,’ I’m enjoying the present while also searching for meaning in the years ahead. These moments of reconnection remind me of happy times and help me find meaning at this stage of life.”

What Would You Like Us to Know?

The second question, “What would you like us to know about how you are, how you have been?”, opened up space for deeper reflections. I knew this prompt would be challenging, but I hoped it would offer a moment for authenticity. My own response is pretty raw: “I find groups so hard now. I feel dysfunctional and alien in a group, always on the outside, because that’s how I cope now in groups. It’s taken enormous courage for me to organise this reunion, and even more to come. I am grateful that I can still trust these old relationships.”

Some of the responses reflected similar struggles with belonging or vulnerability. Rebecca shared candidly, “I have always felt I am not good enough, a disappointment… I have been learning about myself in therapy for the past 4 or 5 years. It’s a slow process of becoming aware, understanding, accepting, and taking care of myself.”

Geraldine echoed this sense of growth and acceptance, noting, “Coming to a school reunion feels like looking after my younger self, and telling her that all will be well. I stayed for the whole seven years in one class, and my social confidence grew, but I still see myself as being most comfortable on the outskirts of groups.”

Others spoke of life transitions and the impact of time passing. Marianne reflected on shifting life stages, saying, “My mum died in 2022, but otherwise all is good. I am entering a different stage of life with the boys leaving home, working on my health, and spending more time with my husband.” For Charlotte, the biggest change was a recent move: “We moved from London to the countryside just before the reunion, and one of the aspects I love about the new house is that a kestrel comes to visit regularly.”

Sarah’s reflections encapsulated a shift in priorities: “Life has done what it does. You reassess priorities. The pandemic had a big impact on me in terms of becoming intentional about my relationships and friendships—really making time for people rather than crowding my time with other activities… One thing I love about ageing is I really don’t give a shit anymore about what other people think. I am considerate of others but much more comfortable in my own skin.”

Finding Meaning Amidst It All

The reunion also provided an opportunity to reflect on the passage of time and the longer line of living that has already happened on our planet. I offered to lead a Deep Time Walk, and a good number of friends joined; it stands out as being a particularly meaningful part of the weekend for many. Leading that walk was my way of inviting a deeper reflection on time—not just in our lives but in the world around us. During the long, slow walk through Deep Time, I find I touch into something deeper—a recognition of time’s vastness and our tiny flicker of a moment within it.

I am grateful for the ones who made the effort to come, especially those who travelled from afar. In quiet, buffered spaces—whether one-to-one or in small clusters—I found some of the deeper and more meaningful conversations I always long for. There was scope for genuine connection, deepening bonds, and enriched friendships through honest sharing of where we are in our lives today.

Looking Ahead

I don’t know what the future holds for more reunions. The emotional and time commitment it takes to bring us together is not small. But I am glad I overrode my hesitation this time and found the courage and determination to “boucler la boucle.” Whether we meet again as a larger group, or in smaller pockets of more meaningful friendships, I genuinely hope to see some of these old friends again.