Dear Kennedy,
Today is your first day as a high school freshman. This is madness.
When we dropped you off today, I remembered taking you to kindergarten and feeling nervous about leaving you to interface with what looked like menacing fifth graders-“big kids.” And then all of the sudden, you were a fifth grader and weren’t menacing at all! I’ll try to remember that when I drive up to the high school and see 18 (19?) year olds that you will interact with every day.
I’m often asked where you would be attending high school. The questioners always look surprised when I immediately answer: “Nacogdoches High School.” And then they ask why I’m not worried about gangs (?), they ask-in hushed tones-whether I’ve been to the high school between classes. Umm, yes, I’ve been there during lunch, during classes, and during the passing periods. Check, check, check. I am not afraid of the kids in our little town and you should not be, either. Sure, you will encounter people who are different from you in language, religion, dress, beliefs, attitudes, demeanor, life goals, you name it. I hope you reach out to people who are different from you and learn from them. Luckily, not everyone in this world is like us!
I wish I had done a better job of this in high school. I was pretty self-absorbed (which I suppose is typical adolescent behavior) and stuck with a tight-knit group of friends. Looking back now, I wonder how many opportunities I missed to get to know someone outside that group, how many chances I missed to extend a hand of friendship to a lonely or shy or new-to-the-school person. Look for those opportunities and try to miss fewer of them than I did.
You may not remember this, but a while back, you and your sibs were asking me what I did during high school-meaning, what kinds of extracurricular activities I participated in. I thought for a minute and said, “I didn’t do anything. I worked.” And that’s true. I got a job my sophomore year in high school and worked every day after school. I didn’t participate in any sports, I quit band after 8th grade (because I didn’t want to march), I didn’t do student council or Spanish Club or any other club. I didn’t go to homecoming or even prom. I was pretty much too-cool for school and graduated early.
I don’t regret having had a job or having graduated early, but I do regret the smart-aleck, superior attitude that allowed me to walk from honors class to honors class with a chip on my shoulder-all too smug in the feeling that I had earned my place in those honors classes by the sweat of my brow, when in fact it was more likely due to the serendipitous combination of my DNA and the social/cultural capital my parents had bequeathed to me. I regret how readily I made fun of the cheerleaders, the Grenadier Guards (dance team), the “kickers,” the “band geeks,” I could go on. In short, I regret not being nicer to more people. Those footsteps of mine aren’t worth following, so please take a different path.
For the first time, we dropped you off today without a carefully checked list of school supplies-each folder and Kleenex box neatly labeled with your name. I didn’t pack your lunch (shh . . . I know I haven’t done this for many years, but everybody else doesn’t need to know that). But I hope your dad and I have done enough other things right that you are not totally unprepared. I hope we’ve taught you enough about life that you will be able to walk in confidently-but not proudly-and embrace all the new and exciting things you will learn and the people you will meet. You looked like a dream this morning. I am awed that I’ve had the privilege of contributing in any way to the person you are becoming.
Most of all-know that we will always love you no matter the mess(es) you might get yourself into.That bears repeating in case you aren’t reading carefully: no matter what you do, we’ll always love you.
So go forth and dance, little missy. I promise not to laugh if I catch you enjoying a pep rally or having fun at a dance.
Mom
Beautiful. Yes, go forth and dance, little missy.
Aww, this made me tear up. What a beautiful tribute. I hope she has the first of many wonderful days.
Wow, I’m right there with you Heather. When we went to pick up maren from camp, we came into the concert hall and she happened to be there rehearsing. The light was dim and I really had to watch for a few minutes to be sure it was even her! The seem to transform overnight sometime.
High school is ups and downs, and such a foundation of life experiences. I’m confident that our public school (have had the same convos you are about where Maren is) is a good place for those.
Beautiful, Heather. Especially this:
Most of all-know that we will always love you no matter the mess(es) you might get yourself into.That bears repeating in case you aren’t reading carefully: no matter what you do, we’ll always love you.
This cannot be happening! I swear that it was only yesterday that I was watching Kennedy and Maren dance in the living room to Freaky Friday while Stuart munched on Lucky Charms that were charm-free because “he won’t know the difference!” How is Kennedy in high school and Maren in middle school and Stuart this lean, mean, dancing machine? What happened to that roly poly baby, that sweet, imaginative toddler and that bright, smart as a whip elementary school student? I am thankful that I got to know these three wonderful munchkins and that they just keep getting better and better as the years go by. Kennedy, I know you will do great in high school! Don’t get too bogged down by school and homework– even though some of the work can seem tedious at times just stick with it and you’ll be through and on to something new before you know it. Have fun!! Love you oodles!
Marin with an ‘I’, not an ‘E’! I swear, after I met Cupit, it’s been hard to remember which way to spell it. :( Oops!
I know! And another friend has a daughter named Maren with an “e.”
Those are just such beautiful and honest sentiments. I loved the thing you said about your parents and all they bequeathed to you. They are incredible people and there is one thing your father ALWAYS said about kids…..He’s a good kid, she’s a good kid. Everyone to him was a good kid. That’s how it should be and thank goodness the world is full of people so different!
H — I assume that’s your high school picture on the left. Has anyone told you that it looks a lot like Natalie Portman? Well, I think it does.
Umm, Michael–yes, that’s me on the left. And no, of course no one’s ever told me I look like Natalie Portman. Whah?? Do you need to visit the eye doctor?
I actually agree with the comment that you look kind of like Natalie Portman – and I’m married to an eye doctor. So, I’m sure my vision is fine. I think it’s the smile.
Anyway, nicely written – I had to think that even though I keep reading from you that motherhood isn’t your cup of tea, it keeps shining through (to me at least) how much you love your children, and how involved you are in them becoming great people. Isn’t that what motherhood is? I think packing lunches has almost nothing to do with motherhood. Most of the time it probably has more to do with vanity and/or fear.
Good job. I hope your daughter has an awesome experience.
You’re too kind, Fran.
And yes, you’re right–I do write a lot about how motherhood and me aren’t a very good fit . . .
What I really hope is that my kids know that I tried. They know there’s lots of things I’m not good at. They know I lose my patience and get frustrated and selfish about my time and feel resentful at times. I also think they know how much I love them and how freaking amazing they are. ;) I hope they know that, at least.
And I always remind them that if/when they become parents, they’ll know they can always be honest with me about how hard it is because they’ll know how it was for me!!