Saturday, September 8, 2012

School agony in 4-year increments


Our family is experiencing a monumental confluence of firsts as we march into this new school year. My niece is going to kindergarten, my nephew is starting middle school, my daughter and another niece begin their high school careers and my son and another nephew are one week into freshman year of college. Whew! So many departures into the great, wide, unknown for our young folks. I’m not sure who is more nervous, as we all peer into the future, the children or their parents.
            As a mom, I have now experienced all of these “first days” of school. Kindergarten, of course, is poignant in its adorableness. I did not cry when my oldest got on the bus, nor did he. I saved this embarrassing tradition for his first day of college. When my youngest finally got to go to “real” school, she was so ready that she forgot to say goodbye to me. Elementary years are marked by new lunch boxes and endless packages of band-aids. Homework was serious business but really didn’t get in the way of playground activities and riding bikes in the neighborhood.
            Middle school is another thing entirely. At this important crossroads, the young child is just dipping his toes into the teen pool. There is so much confusion that I wonder how any of us survive these tumultuous years. Changing bodies, changing attitudes, changing school schedules and increasing demands on brains and muscles are only the tip of the iceberg. Awkward social skills begin developing, premature ideas of independence manifest in shows of attitude that actually belie the childish need for parental hugs and support. A keen eye and open ears are important tools in the parental arsenal at this time. Such skills will be honed and used (overused?) as we move with mounting momentum into the most important four years of a young adult’s life: high school.
            It’s funny how the interpretation of passing time is relative to one’s age. When you are young, an hour is an eternity. As we advance into our 20s, weeks and months spin by. Well into your 40s, the years begin to accelerate and a fond recollection of high school is actually (gasp) three decades past.
            A friend has a theory that time passes faster as we get older because we have so many experiences stacking onto each other. Maybe this accounts for the maddening deterioration of our memory as we age. Personally, I like to blame my children for this phenomenon. If they didn’t distract me so much, I would know exactly where I left the car keys or why I phoned a particular number.
            Looking back, it seems as though some of life’s most important early chapters happen in four-year increments. The first four years are spent learning the most elemental things like feeding oneself, walking, talking and social skills. After that, reading begins and school is not far off. From there, every few years offers a new school environment, with high school, of course being the pinnacle of four-year experiences. That is, unless you go on to college or grad school.
            When one is actually in high school, four years can pass at a glacial pace. All of the agony of algebra, dissecting frogs, rope climbing in gym and getting to know the opposite sex converge to make every day interesting, memorable and sometimes awful. From my decades-long vantage point, those four years went by quickly. Why, I wonder, do they stand out so distinctly in one’s memory? The four years between 22 and 26, for example are not as clear as my days in high school. Sadly for the teenagers in my house, I remember a lot more than they would like.
            From the first day of 9th grade to the final strains of Pomp and Circumstance four years later, the change can only be described as stratospheric. Most freshmen look like kids; most graduates look like men and women. The trick is, to get their brains, hearts and moral compasses to match the exterior trappings of emerging adulthood. It is hard to believe that I was so impatient to get them out of diapers and on to the good stuff. Wish I knew then what I know now!
            My theory on why high school is so memorable hinges on the deluge of new experiences facing this age group. The learning curve is steep as our youngsters take on physics, calculus, iambic pentameter, passé compose, playing the trumpet, trying out for the basketball team, learning to drive, learning to navigate parties where alcohol is available, discovering the true meaning of friendship, failing chemistry, not getting a part in the fall play, being left behind my last year’s best friend, facing parents’ divorce, death of a grandparent, the break up of the first romance – all at the same time. These experiences carry with them such forceful emotions that they are firmly implanted into our brains. By design, these momentous moments serve to shape us and help us become our adult selves, but it sure can be an arduous process at times. It seems to me that no other chunk of life offers such a diversity of new, interesting and terrifying events, therefore, we can remember this time with clarity and even fondness.
            I clearly recall the huge lump in my stomach on the first day of high school. I was simply frozen with fear. Would I get lost? Would I be abused by upperclassmen? Would I know what to do in my classes? Would I ever feel comfortable in that huge building with so many other students? The answer to all of these would be “yes.” Despite the agonizing first days, I survived high school and even enjoyed a large part of those years. I did not think much about my life beyond the coming weekend at that time of my life. Our kids of today, however, live very differently indeed.
            Today’s high school freshman has already looked out over her four year schedule with an eye toward how many advanced placement tests she can take (and pass) before graduation. She is thinking of co-curricular activities based on her interests in addition to how they will look on her college applications. He already knows how to type much faster than I ever dreamed possible as I failed Typing I on the brand new IBM Selectric typewriters in the business department at my high school. He takes extra courses online to extend his academic skills and help him compete with the thousands of others who will vie for that opening at his first choice college.
            It is a different world for my kids than the one I faced hundreds of years ago. They remind me frequently of my naivete, stupidity and general lack of knowledge regarding the modern world and its demands. Thank goodness I have my husband to lean on. At least we will be able to take care of each other when we are overwhelmed by our inability to deal with the real world as it exists today.
            And what of the future? My own mother, herself a reformed stupid parent, assures me that the globe will continue to spin, my freshmen will become seniors will become functional and happy adults, and that I will likely survive all of it and come out with a smile of satisfaction, no worse for wear.

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