Which rung holds your child on the academic ladder, and what does it say about you?
After many years in the field of education and in the deep emotional pool of parenthood, I've beenthrough the gamut. I have seen victorious young graduates move forward with clarity and strength, and
I have seen miserable waifs stumble in despair. I have worried and fretted and stormed with self-righteousness!
However, I have lately found a lulling peace that washes over me like the constant and
quiet waves upon the Gulf shores. That calm state of mind regarding the future of today's children in
our fast-forward world is not only possible; it's easily preferable to the agitation I witness in so many
others.
Just to set the stage, these messages and all they imply roll around in my noggin daily:
“There are no jobs once you get your degree
anyway; you'll be back living with your parents!”
“Oh, I love that book! That's the only one I actually
read in my entire high school career.”
“Your 2nd grade son, according to our test, is readingat the Kindergarten level.”
“Sure, Mom, I got it done. I just never turned it in.”
“If you don't get into the Top 10, you're a nobody.”
“Well, John never did all that well in high school, but he was in a private
school among all the elite kids, and now
he's at the top of his college classes!”
“I don't understand. He had a 4.0 all through highschool, and now college just seems to be so much
harder for him!”
“Well, she's Native, so she got a full ride to Stanford.”
“Oh, believe me, you don't want my child in your class.”
“These helicopter parents are driving me nuts!”
“If you don't advocate for them, who will?”
“They both went to a simple and small
university and now they both make millions.”
“I want to be in the advanced courses becausethat's where the kids want to learn.”
“Why are you pushing us so hard? I thought
this was 'regular' English.”
“Well, you know how it goes; he's from a broken home.”
“I've been accepted to my college, so I don't really
need to do all this work now.”
“I can't stay after for help; I havehockey until 11pm.”
“If you want to be in this class, you had better be ready to work
harder than you have ever worked before.
Some of you won't make it.”
“I didn't know I was plagiarizing.”
“You should go on the mission trip; it will
look good on your resume.”
“If your son doesn't graduate, what willthat say about you?”
“If your students don't graduate, what
will that say about you?”
“He's going to River Falls? Oh.”
“She's going to Furman? Wow!”
“Is he just gonna work at Menards then?”
“But if I don't take all the AP classes now, I
will have to take them in college!”
“Your father was class valedictorian.”
“These kids with professional parents have
no idea what it means to struggle.”
“The problem with kids today is theirsense of entitlement.”
“I can't stay after; I have to work. We
need me to work.”
“Dad, you can't write the paper for me!”As a woman, teacher, aunt, daughter, mother, step-mother, and member of the community in which I
have taught for over 20 years, I have had a wide range of observations, experiences and concerns. I
came from a family where higher education and multiple degrees were not just valued, they were
expected. It never hurt to have some public prestige as frosting on that cake. The pressure was real and
the idea that one might not seek such an opportunity was absurd. Things got dicey when I married into
a blue collar family who found dirt under your nails more impressive than proper grammar. What
should I expect now? What does that say about me? Luckily, I have come to some peaceful
conclusions.
What we are really dealing with here is a growing tendency to face our youth with a toxic overdose of
fear! What if he or she doesn't make it?!! What am I supposed to do?! In other words, we want control!
I am here to boldly and not-so-popularly state: Relax.
Now before you get your ire up, let me specify what I mean by this single word “relax”. I don't mean
kick back, smoke a big fat one and play some Candy Crush for the next few years. And I don't mean
lower your expectations to the point of “idiocracy”. Let's be clear: I love to learn and I fully intend to
promote learning and human development well into those years when my own ghost haunts all the kids
who deserve it. I also realize that reasonable economic stability and the capacity to pay basic living
bills may not match the affluence familiar to many of my students.
However, this hype, this intensity, this anxiety-promoting shove over the performance cliff is, in my
humble but serene mind, an unnecessary, ridiculous, soul-crushing buffoonery. Okay, I made that last
word up, but it is a great word and I refuse to delete it.
My point is that we choose to dive into an over-reactive state as soon as we experience fear of
mediocrity, or helplessly watch our youth make spectacularly poor and destructive choices. We fear that
it not only reflects poorly on us as parents, but we give our children little to no credit for working
through their own academic struggles or efforts at young adult independence. We think if they are not
at the top of the heap, and flawlessly driven by our magical parental force, they will rot and everyone
will smell it and blame us for the offense.
Charles Dickens and Victor Hugo seem to have had zero impact on our faith in human resilience. Not
only do we oversimplify why young people don't always do as we wish, but we also oversimplify why
they do. We harshly judge parents of struggling youth and we jealously suggest that those whose kids
find academic success know no real struggle. We can't imagine how a young person from an uneducated family might realize the American Dream and we jeer at the globetrotting beautiful ones.
What a bunch of egos colliding! I have decided not to participate in what I consider a shallow and
competitive race. I will dance to the beat of my own drum. I will celebrate all of it! The good, the bad,
and the unexpectedly lucky! I just think it shines on a more spiritual path.
These examples might drive home the tone with which I hope to be heard:
If a student comes in tardy every day for an entire year, I will discreetly grant a consequence. However,
I will not lecture, shame, judge, sneer, ignore or cringe. I will smile and say an authentic “Good
morning!” If they ask what they missed, I will gently ask them not to make me repeat myself. I will
NOT take it personally.
If my own child did not complete an assignment to the best of his ability, I will quietly tell him I am
sincerely sorry he did not get to feel the joy of success. I will ask him how he might do things
differently the next time. I will remind him that communication with the teacher, scary as it is, is the
most powerful way to get the support needed. Otherwise, the conversation is over.
I will not show worry. Instead, I will believe in him.
I will tell him, even when he is being stupid, that I believe in him.
I will tell him that he is not alone, and that I know he will find his way.
If my child ends up living under a bridge or ends up driving a Mercedes across the bridge, I know he is
good and smart and will endure, since that is what I raised him to be.
Crude as it sounds, I have a theory that the toilet will rarely get flushed until they have a toilet to call
their own, in a home they must purchase with an income they earned. Miraculously, the toilet will now
get flushed every time.
If my child barely graduates and loses a job or two then finds that rock climbing should be his vocation,
I remind myself that this life he is choosing is not my life. It is his life and he may be my child, but we
are actually both children of God. Then I turn back to the task at hand, which involves cooking,
cleaning, gardening, some hard laughter with a good friend, riding my motorcycle, prayer, yoga, long
strolls over the hills of this beautiful town and another great book to read.
One last thought before I go. My oldest son barely graduated high school on time due to one single course in math. He hated math and he tested the teacher's patience to the final day, but he finished with a D-. He then took a year off and did nothing. I mean NOTHING. I did not allow him to live with me at that time. He eventually decided he was ready to attend a university. He was there for a year and then switched
majors. At the end of the second year, he felt lost and unsure of his new major. He decided to go live on
his own on the north shore, take a class at the local community college and mostly fly fish for an entire
year. He then returned to the first university where he currently is finishing his junior year with a new
major. He is now, for the first time, feeling an internal motivation to complete his new major in the next
year. He works two jobs, pays his own rent and insists he is deeply happy. One day I came to visit him
as his screenplay was to be shown in the university film festival. We were gathering his things in his
apartment and he said to me, “Mom, guess what happened to me this morning? I got out of the shower,
dried off and got dressed. I returned to the bathroom and pulled the shower curtain closed in order to
allow it to dry properly. And in that moment, Mom, I realized I had become you. Responsible.”
I smiled and chuckled a bit. “Well then. I guess my work here is done.”
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