Confessions of a Not-So-Super Mom


This week, our oldest grandchildren are starting high school and junior high (still can’t get used to calling it, “middle school”).  What I observed was how the surface manifestations of going to school can change, but the participants stay the same.  For example, the entire incoming freshman class received laptop computers compliments of the school district.  That seems like a millennium change from my high school, where you took the bus to the book depository downtown, gave them your schedule and paid to rent either a new or used book for each course. 

[Anyone who knows my mother knows I was in the, “used” book line!  You, too?  And yet we all grew up with no emotional scars.  Can I get an, “Amen” for the used book line?]

My husband and I, both retired teachers, were eager to poke our noses in each classroom.  Tom was pleased to see lab tables for each pair of students in the science classrooms.  I was impressed with the printed lists of expectations, both general for the school and specific for the class, on the walls of each room. 

When we went to the granddaughter’s locker day we were treated to seeing the Super Moms decorating their daughter’s lockers.  Stick on designer paper was being cut and applied to the locker interior, along with stick-on mirrors, memo clips, photo frames—the sky is the limit! 

I feel a certain amount of shame here.  I was not a decorator Mom.  I was a, “Try your combination three times to make sure it works,” Mom.  Sorry, girls!

We were also able to attend a marching band concert topping off their first week of band camp.  Grandson plays the trumpet.  This is where you realize that despite a modern building and 21st century technology, high school is still high school.  All the usual suspects were there.  The band parents: the organizers, the enforcers, the servers and clean-up crew, all feeding hundreds of burgers and hot dogs to the kids and parents.  The parents bringing the fruits, veggies, chips and desserts they had signed up for. 

Again, this is where I always fell down on the job.  While I would like to bring homemade cookies, I knew I would have ended up buying a box of Oreos on my way to the barbeque.  So I signed up for dish pig.  There is no way you can screw up doing dishes and mopping the floor.  

The students, themselves, were the same ones you would have seen at North High School in 1964.  There were the seniors walking around like they own the world (they do).  There were the freshmen, all looking so very young, tentatively trying to figure out their place in the social structure.  But when this chaotic group of hormone laced, judgment impaired youth got into marching formation they were transformed. 

There is something about the sound of a drum line, pounding out the cadence of the band taking the field that sends chills up my spine.  These kids were having fun, but still displaying remarkable discipline and effort—which shows you what can happen when students have a reason to be in school, other than because they have to!

I was never a Super Mom, but I did always show up, which is all these kids really need.  Given all the time our kids drive us crazy, I don’t understand why a parent wouldn’t take advantage of the times we get to see them at their best: band, athletics, performance, arts, debate, science fair…the list is endless.

Value your child’s education and keep the faith. 

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