These days, kids “graduate” a lot. Cap and gown ceremonies
mark the exits from kindergarten,
elementary school, and middle school. But no graduation is as life-altering in
its high and lows as the big one: high school. This clammy, hormone-lined
passageway, celebrated in movies and songs, is both feared and longed for by
students and parents alike. And with good reason.
As a teacher of 80+ college-bound AP Literature students, I
see the senior year as a recognizable pattern. At Parents Night in the fall, I
try to warn parents about the roller coaster ride they are about to take. But
generalities only go so far when you have such diversity in senior students! There’s
the girl who gets into multiple Ivy League schools and spends the spring
jetting around to various admitted-student events, all while keeping her grades
up. She basically glows in the dark. There’s the boy having a nervous breakdown
and can barely pass senior year over anxiety about his girlfriend going to
college in a different part of the country. There’s the party dude headed to a
huge university to join a fraternity of young men exactly like himself in order
to strengthen his fortress of homogeneous privilege, thus lessening his fear of
learning how to cope with human difference.
There’s the budding theatre major who just KNOWS she is going to be the
one to break through and make this passion a real career. There’s the “signed” athlete, experiencing a
peak of exultation that may not be repeated ever, despite his dreams of what
lies ahead in college sports. And these are just a few of the senior stories I
watch unfold. There are as many narratives as there are graduates, and some
don’t have any kind of goal or plan yet. Which is really OK.
Let’s face it—high school is a bubble, and they are about to
bust out, come what may. Graduation cards all scream, “Follow your dreams!” and
“The sky is the limit!” True, it’s a fantastic milestone. But the future is not
a slam dunk. And parents need to know this.
Everyone wants to imagine that their child will LOVE college
life and everything will fall into place. But about half the time, that dreamy
dream does not play out. And really, how could it? Despite a carefully
considered decision, these kids are still very plastic, forming creatures
according to brain development experts. So here are a few hard but true things
to keep in mind as you get ready to shove your golden young bird out of the
nest.
College is a big bunch
of personal freedom. We all know this. But the fact is that many kids will
not deal well with sudden self-regulation. Kids who have been in charge of
their own getting-up-and-out regimen in the morning fare better than most, but
it’s still a shock to the system. Nobody to nag you to do homework before fun. Nobody
to stock the fridge if you missed dining hall hours. Nobody to care if you come
home or not. Which brings me to the next
thing:
College is dangerous.
Yes, it really is. Drink-spiking, drunk driving, full on peer-encouraged
alcohol poisoning (and serious abuse of other substances), and plenty, plenty of rape culture. Despite the
discrediting of the infamous Rolling
Stone story of rape at UVA, this is a shockingly pervasive issue all over
this land. Misogyny and the dehumanizing of young women is probably more
intense in various pockets of American college campuses than anywhere in
western culture. It’s hard for the good guys in the crowd too—they feel
incredible pressure to join in the fun, whether it’s sexist (or racist) trash
talk or worse. This grimness is worth another post entirely, but trust me on
this one. If they experience this part of college life, and many will, your
kids will probably never tell you the unvarnished truth, because it would make
you cry.
Alternate reality: Some kids find their people early, even
without the benefit of paid social networks like Greek houses. They form
life-long friendships and steer clear of disastrous choices. Hurrah! But they
are living in the same petri dish as the others. The culture is unavoidable. Either
way, don’t hover. DON’T. They have to figure shit out without you.
Exclusion: If your
kid gets sick, pay attention. You might have to swoop in. Campus health centers
are notoriously lame. My daughter went to hers when desperately ill during her
second semester and was offered either a pregnancy test or narcotic pain
killers. I had to bring her home to get the triple threat diagnosis of
tonsillitis, strep, and MONO. Yikes.
College will make
them different. A year from now, you may hardly recognize your higher ed scholar.
Some boys get extremely scruffy and unkempt.
For girls, the weight thing is big. Don’t comment. Gain or lose, the
decisions that follow are not always the best, as in “let’s only do SHOTS
because it’s less calories than beer or wine.” (Yes, the drinking factor seems
to be a given. The question is what kind.) They experiment with styles and
personas. I moved my daughter into her freshman dorm with computer cords,
cleaning supplies, notebooks, and a poster of the Eiffel Tower. On move-out day
in May I carried a chocolate fountain, rose-patterned cowboy boots, and sexy
bras I had no part in purchasing.
But they will also change politically and socially, and THAT
is some excitement, people. Sophomore year Thanksgiving dinner is often the
scene for shocking revelations. Don’t get hot under the collar. This deliberate
separation from you is a healthy part of becoming themselves. Love them for it.
And warn Grandma.
They might F-ing HATE
college.
Well, it happens. It might be the wrong place at the wrong
time--no way to know in advance. They might transfer, take time out, quit and
get a job. They will learn, whether they are in college or not. This is huge,
crucial figuring-out time, and some kids take longer than others, and there is
nothing particularly magical about the year 18. You’ll do yourself and your
child a favor if you can be at least kind of OK with this rootless period of
questioning and ennui. Don’t get in the
way if you can help it. On the other hand, do not let them languish forever
living the life of young idle royalty in your home. The more personal
responsibility, the better. And the more honesty about all issues above, the
better.
Wallow in all the
“lasts.” These final days of your child’s at-home adolescence are like fitful
dreams. They will be vivid and ephemeral. Your kid will plan endless “last
chances” to get together with this or that friend as they take flight, one by
one, for brand new territory. And when they are gone, you will be OK. It’s a
tough passage; the emotion you will feel is the sister of grief. It flares and
wanes and finally changes into a quiet star that burns with nostalgia,
intermittent fear, and joy.
But even if it hits you like a spear to the heart, even if
this is the last chick out of the nest, keep reminding yourself that you would
not have it otherwise. It’s a great time to sit still and think about your own
sweet life in this new reality. Where will you put all that energy you have
beamed into your progeny for almost two decades? Savor the satisfaction of a
job well done; congratulations are in order. Breathe in the freedom. Get ready
for a personal renaissance. You are graduating, too.
...
Susan Lilley is a Florida native. Her work has appeared (or is forthcoming) in Gulf Coast, Poet Lore, The Southern Review, Drunken Boat, Slipstream, Sweet, and American Poetry Review, among other journals. She is the 2009 winner of the Rita Dove Poetry Award and her chapbook, Night Windows, won the Yellow Jacket Press contest for Florida poets. Her 2012 chapbook Satellite Beach is from Finishing Line Press. Her MFA is from University of Southern Maine. She lives and teaches in central Florida and blogs at The Gloria Sirens.
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