When I first sent Cindy off to the 'big city' for a high-falootin' snazzy education, I thought the transition would be, well, a piece of cake. After all, why wouldn't it be? She breezed through the first 12 years, so the next four would follow suit, right? No? Let's make that a Hell No.
I had thought, naively, that her school had done it's job, by preparing her educationally. I had done my job, preparing her emotionally. Unfortunately, whoever was in charge or preparing me, dropped the ball.
Going into the Marine Biology program, had been her goal since she was 8. It never veered off course, it never changed, it just 'was'. I sat with her when she went to orientation. I listened as this smart, articulate girl spoke with the Dean of the program, asked the right questions, took notes, she ran that show. She knew it would be tough. She was ready. Bring it on.
Or not.
Educationally, I think she could have stuck it out. Unfortunately, college math is geared towards kids who have come from larger populated schools, with more advanced math programs to offer students. For a kid who's graduating class consisted of under 50 students, the campus in and of, itself is overwhelming. Going from having a name, from everyone knowing you, your folks, what you did on the weekend, what you did at 4:08 p.m. on January 8, 2006, to where you are just another body, or tuition payment, is pretty scary stuff. Toss in parents who didn't have this experience, who don't understand how incredibly difficult this is, who assume the problem must lie within her, and let's face it. This could have gone either way.
First semester...1.9 GPA. Academic probation. Every conversation with mom and dad turning into an argument. Toss in the college night life, which I now understand, is an outlet. Frankly? I'm surprised she didn't pack up lock, stock and barrel, move home, lick her wounds, and chalk it up to experience. I would have. I can sit here, without a hint of a doubt, and tell you I would.
No. She dropped back, stared failure in the face, and punted. "Social Work"? We asked? Never once, had she hinted for a career that involved nurturing humans, in anyway shape or form. "Whatever", was our response. She's in college. "Shrug". Switching gears mid-stream, had us thinking she was crazy, but we went along with it.
In this process, I think it's me who's done the learning. There was a moment, where it hit me with crystal clarity. "She needs to enter adult-hood the same effed up way the rest of us have". It's time to stop parenting, and start supporting. When that happened, she sailed right through. She was wrong about Marine Biology. It may have been her chosen career, but the good that she will do, and IS doing in the field of human relations, is not always rewarding, it's not always pleasant, but it's a field that needs what she brings to it. That, no-fail, you won't beat me, and I won't give up, attitude. Working with low-functioning high needs children and families, is not made for someone who is going to pack it up and go home, every time things get a bit rough.
This all came to mind, as I was posting on my Facebook wall. I tried to tag her in a post, and when I highlighted her name, one of the options was to search her name on Google. I thought 'why not'. This article popped up. I remember this incident, as it caused yet another argument. Not one to get hysterical over underage drinking, I was appalled at police involvement. Not that I was innocent at her age, I certainly wasn't. However, none of my 'mischief' led to police involvement. Pure luck. Again, I had never lived in a college town, and I didn't realize that police are very different there, than in the small town I grew up in. As I read it now, 4 years, many learning experiences (my own) later, I see something that I chose not to see then. "Bergin, who also admitted to drinking,"
I ignored that part earlier. The part where she admitted to it, owned her behavior, and took responsibility for her actions. That line is significant for more than my ignorance to the larger picture, it's significant, because 4 years later, I can read it, not focus on behaviors that I can't control, but to look at it with the realization, that my kids are good people. At the end of the day, it's enough. Despite bumps, blurbs, and tears, it's enough. The rest, my friends, is gravy. For without the guts to own up to something you know will land your ass before a judge, you don't have what it takes to stand before a football stadium and receive a diploma, and enter the world prepared to give direction to other people.
Life is a journey. It's a path. It's not a stone walkway, impossible to move. It's yours to maneuver as you see fit. And you will. Not because of a degree, but because when something isn't working, you can drop back, and punt, and send it sailing in the direction you want. Through MY mistakes, of not supporting you when you needed it most, and not trying hard enough to understand, you became stronger, and wiser. I will spend the rest of my years being your friend, your mother, and your confidante. THESE are things that I learned in college.
I love you.
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