Hello and welcome to a graduation Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is May 28th.
Last night, Senior 2.0 graduated from high school, all ready for his launch into Life 2.0. But I'm writing this blog post ahead of time - to reflect and gather a few final thoughts before all the busyness kicks into high gear and the soda starts flowing at all the grad parties sandwiched into the 48-hour window between commencement and Memorial Day.
"What are you going to do with 40% of your kids out of the house?" the Oldest asked me a few weeks ago. What came to mind was more elbow room and fewer decibels of sound reverberating through the house. I thought about home renovation projects - how I might reconfigure our living space and convert the little people's bedroom into my new office. (I've got my eye on a particular IKEA desk.)
It's been a fast-paced year from my vantage point. A year ago, he was dreading the 2021 graduation ceremony (most of his closest friends were in that class) and skeptical about his mom's enthusiasm for our college road trip. As he put it: "Mom, I just want to hang out with my friends."
This college conversation has not been easy and he did not come to it willingly. Yet, he found himself enjoying our trip West. He gained experience driving through mountain ranges and major cities. He observed the aftermath of multi-car accidents on clogged highways and then narrowly avoided his own. In Bellingham, after lunching with a college professor before our last college visit of the trip, something clicked. When we pointed the car east on our return trek to Minnesota, his mood and perspective on college shifted. He came home inspired. He finally knew for himself he wanted to go to college.
With my rah-rah personality, I told him to think of his senior year as "The Year of Exploration." He is not his sister - who is engineering all the way. This kid is a little of this and a little of that - a jack of all trades. He spent this last year doing internships in three different departments at Marvin Windows & Doors. He took Calculus despite feeling really nervous about it. He embraced leadership roles in student council, Team Epic, sports, robotics, and band. He played trombone instead of the clarinet, his band teacher not realizing he'd never played trombone before.
A senior's final year is filled with far more than classes and extracurriculars. There are more college visits. There are ACT/SAT (re)tests. There's a learning curve that comes with applying to colleges through the Common App. The nailbiting while waiting to hear if he has been accepted. The stress of waiting for financial aid offers and praying that the gap between aid offered and the total cost of attendance will be manageable. There are lots of scholarship applications.
Many graduates of classes past have told me that the one thing they wish they had done differently was to start their application process sooner, sound counsel incoming seniors rarely heed only to offer the same advice to the next year's seniors - a one-way street of wisdom we've seen our own kids travel.
Scholarship season was in full swing by February and held steady through April, with the last application turned in on May 1, which is also National Commitment Day, i.e. the last day your senior can hem and haw about their college pick.
Then there are all those other "lasts." Last band concert, last recital, last prom, last meet, last robotics competition, last speech, last letter award, last slide show, last homework assignment, last exam, last day of school - a steady barrage of "lasts" that evokes every emotion from grief to elation. For me.
A wealth of raw feelings settled in, making me sensitive in a way that surprised me. But I didn't cry at the robotics wrap-up; I didn't cry at the honors banquet. I didn't even cry when Senior 2.0 thanked his parents at the senior piano recital. On the home stretch of "last" events this past week, I cracked just a bit at Baccalaureate when guest speaker, Alexandria Maxwell, gave a beautiful speech. "It's okay to make plans. And know that life may change those plans. And that's okay, too." (How would that not make a person tear up?) And I held it together long enough not to ball my eyes out during the Scholarship Awards night. Once we got home though, all of the stoicism finally gave way to a well-deserved cry.
What really hit home for me was the immensity of the amount of effort it took to get the Senior 2.0 to this point. With the work done, I can set aside the pom-poms and call it a wrap. Now that some tears have been shed, what remains is a warm pool of feelings bubbling like a nice bath just beneath the surface. Pride for our son's accomplishments and his willingness to do the due diligence required in his last year of high school to prepare for Life 2.0. Relief that the scholarships he received will close the financial gap, resulting in little (if any) student loan debt. And gratitude. Lots and lots of gratitude. Gratitude for his trust in me to guide him through the process. Gratitude for all the community support and the genuine care and esteem so many people who aren't even relatives have for my family. And maybe just a dash of annoyance at how effortless Senior 2.0 makes it all look. Then concluding with a joy so immense its physical expression takes on the form of tears (again).
I've spoken with a few other parents of graduating seniors and we all pretty much agree on the same thing: seniors need their parents more than ever in this last year. Having had two kids go through the process now, I speak from experience when I say that my teens have wanted me to be more hands-on, not less.
It takes a team to launch a kid. Family, friends, teachers, spiritual advisors, employers, and other compassionate adults - all lend a hand in shaping a young person's future. I joke with other moms that we need a support group for parents of teenagers like what we attended when the kids were toddlers. Imagine a fall mixer of parents gathering to share their plans, concerns, and advice over cocktails and appetizers. Regular check-ins with coffee and doughnuts. I'd go to that.
On graduation night, I'll be happy even if I am crying. Happy for him. Happy that the desired outcome I assured him would (most likely) happen, did happen. Happy watching him cross the finish line - not gasping for air, but breezily, with breath to spare.
On This Day
Historic Highlights (credits)
Happy Birthday to You!🎶
Remembering You
Kim
*Wannaskan Almanac Kid Writer-in-Residence
You two did it!
ReplyDeleteNow you can relax before Graduation 3.0 gets into gear.