Well, I've finally lost the baby weight. All 120 pounds of it. And it only took me 18 years, five months and 22 days.
Earbaby is now at Her State U, thousands of miles away. And my husband and I, who more or less centered our lives around her since we knew she was on her way into making us a family, are empty nesters.
And I must admit, I'm not devastated.
The thing is, EB has been separating from us for a couple of years now. She was never much of a homebody with us. Her homebodiness meant being holed up in her room by herself, texting with her friends, watching Netflix, eating, napping, everything, by herself with the door closed. I've joked to people it's no different now that she's gone. If we close the door to her room, it's like nothing has changed.
EB spent practically every waking hour this past summer looking for the next party. She didn't want to spend any time at all with us, although she and I did get in one scary movie together before she left. She was almost manic in "wanting to spend time with my friends." Even when two cousins from Chicago came to visit for a couple of days, even when another cousin, who lives in China, came for a few days, EB was more hit and miss than sit and visit. Her friends took priority over everything and everybody, including friends that she had only recently made.
Now I understand all of this is normal behavior, that their friends become the priority and why should she spend any time with her parents? Why sit down and have a meal when you can grab what you want, go upstairs and shut yourself off and eat while you search online for some sketchy party somewhere in town?
EB did somewhat enjoy her first real job, although she got paid that last week to do nothing. Literally. The kids' camp ended the week before the program, so there were a couple of days, she was told to stay home, because there was nothing for them to do. She only called out sick one day because she just didn't feel well, but really, this particular summer job program, funded by the city, didn't do much for promoting a strong work ethic. I hope she realizes the rest of the world doesn't work that way. For most of us, if we don't work, we don't get paid. She's had 18 years of watching her parents work for a living, so I'm hoping that's the lesson she will eventually learn.
But the summer of endless partying finally came to an end. EB actually showed a lot less maturity as the time approached to leave. She wouldn't settle in and pack. When the last night came, she stuffed one suitcase full of shoes, and packed so few of her clothes, you would have thought she was leaving for a few weeks instead of a few months. She worried more about makeup and hair products than she did basic clothing like jeans, shirts and tops. When she unpacked at her dorm room, her closet looked woefully thin. She will be getting a big box with the clothes she will need for the fall next week.
We spent nearly the entire weekend at Target, Sally's Beauty Supply, and Bed, Bath and Beyond, all for those thousands (of dollars worth) of things to make a dorm room home. We met her roommates -- she has three of them, and went to dinner with the family of one. Everyone seems nice, friendly, and even though EB was overwhelmed with the newness of the experience, she bonded quickly with the one roommate in the same partition and connected with another friend from her orientation.
Our final night together was the day of the Solar Eclipse. Her dad and I went off to see it and she went with her friends. This was such a big deal, with her school close to the 100 percent path of the phenomenon, they cancelled classes that day and organized trips for the students.
She met us for our last dinner together and our last trip for odds and ends. She cried a little when we said goodbye. I didn't. I'm not sad. We will be seeing her in October for Family Weekend and she will be home in November and then December.
So her first class was the following Tuesday and it was the Modern Dance 2 class, which was kind of like an audition. She would be judged by whether she could keep up. She told us she had a tough time following the fast choreography and wasn't sure she would be allowed in. But of course she was. She also is looking to try out for a hip hop dance team. She worried that she never has had to come with her own choreography, and was already talking herself out of auditioning, until she talked to the team president, who encouraged her to try out.
As for my husband and me, we have our own time of transition. He will be leaving his job tomorrow after more than 30 years. He hasn't decided where his next journey will take him, and like I did a couple of years ago, will have a year's time to decide. He isn't ready to retire, and he now understands why when I left that job I didn't want "a retirement party." We'll see what happens in our lives next, as we rediscover what it is like being a couple without being day-to-day parents. As a night worker, I've always had the luxury of having the place to myself during the day when he was at work and Earbaby was at school. Now, he'll be around the house during the day. I wonder how long it takes to drive each other insane. I've told him my new blog will be Wild ride with My Earbaby's Daddy.
No matter what he, and we, decide to do in our next chapter, this one is over. I have entertained writing occasional updates when we visit EB, or she comes home, but I hope I'll resist. It's been interesting, entertaining, vexing, frustrating, disappointing, and exhilarating to try and rear this child into adulthood. Her time, mistakes, good and bad decisions, and consequences, are now her own. It hasn't always been the best of times and it hasn't always been good. But it's been a great adventure and Earbaby, I only want what's best for you, and wish you only the best. But you've left our nest. We love you, little bird. Fly safely. And soar.
Showing posts with label Kansas State University. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kansas State University. Show all posts
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Friday, June 30, 2017
Friendship rings
Earbaby is all graduated. Her two maternal aunts, a cousin, a new baby cousin (the next generation!) and her 94-year-old grandma, all came to the Northeast corner of the country to celebrate the last grandchild's foray into the new world. It was a fun, momentous occasion. She was later joined by cousins, an aunt and an uncle from her dad's side for a dinner in her honor.
And now the real world beckons.
As EB prepares for this next part of her world, it's been interesting to note how she balances her old life with the impending new. She's been out of school and adrift for almost a month and a half now, sleeping late, going out with friends, spending the gifted money she's received almost faster than she gets it (a physical impossibility that still baffles me), and yet becoming more anxious, not only about the fall, but the rest of the summer.
She's got to get a job. And she's actually turned down two jobs, because she's been promised another one through the city resources. She's been through workshops, CPR training, and yet the days drag on, with no start date in sight. After several emails to the coordinator, she was told she had mandatory three-day training for 2 1/2 hours in the middle of the week she had an intensive (and expensive) dance camp. When she told the coordinator those didn't work for her, she went into panic mode, thinking she had turned down two birds in hand and would be denied the promised one in the bush.
Now that mandatory training has been moved to the first week in July, since apparently she wasn't the only one who couldn't make it. There actually are some kids who were still in school until the last week of June. This has been quite the messy process to get a summer job, that will eventually last only a little more than a month before she is off to the wheat and sunflower state.
But she has occupied her time (between sleeping and Netflix) with lots and lots of friends. It seems every day she finds a new group or friend or two to just hang out with. It doesn't hurt that she has access to a car, but at least a couple of her friends have also been willing to drive to go to the beach, or to the mall, or to just get food. I figure they are all trying to squeeze in their last summer before they scatter to the winds of college or trade school. Interestingly, many of her friends are male and all platonic. She doesn't seem interested in dating any more, and we don't even talk about it. There will be time for the warning talk before we say our goodbyes, but for now she seems much happier with herself as a single lady than she ever was as half of a dysfunctional couple. This summer is definitely a turn for the better.
But June has been quite the swoon. Three straight weekends of whirlwind activity included her final dance recital, her graduation and her college orientation.
The trip to formerly my state U, and now Her State U, was for the most part good, but where would we be without the occasional return of the snarky attitude?
EB is a small city kid. I'm snarky enough to consider our place of residence a little city, because I grew up in what was then the second (now third) largest city in the country. But she's still a city kid, and she's going to a country college town, albeit one rated one of the top college towns for satisfaction, etc. Anyway, we spent a hot weekend in the middle of the country. Her dad and I got to spend a couple of days alone tooling around the countryside, since we both like long drives. EB went to two-day summer camp on steroids.
Of course she was snarky and crabby about it, texting us to ask if we could pick her up from the dorms early (we didn't) because it was boring and a waste of her time. Then she was tired, because they never let them rest. But even though she wouldn't participate in some of the goofiness, she couldn't keep from having somewhat of a good time, despite the fact that the temperature was 90-plus degrees every day. And she did make friends. One can only keep from smiling a little for so long in the face of all that relentless cheerfulness.
But the other part of her crabbiness came from the constant contact with her friends who went to Punta Cana, in the Dominican Republic the same week she had orientation with the country mice. The Snapchat stories and texts that she saw seemed as if everyone was having a much better time than she was, even with a few hiccups. (The stories ended up being a lot less fun, and a lot more dark when everyone got home, and she realized that even had we allowed her to go, her friends would have gotten on her nerves.) So EB spent way too much time comparing getting herself ready for college with the kids who work so they could go on the trip where there was drinking, drugs and sexual misconduct. After she heard the stories, she seemed to stop wishing she had gone.The reality didn't sound nearly as glamorous in the cold light of day. But she couldn't know that while she was turning her nose up, resisting the charms of the Wabash Cannonball dance.
Next month, God and the city services willing, Earbaby will have her first steady job. It will only be for the summer, but I'm hoping she will plan on saving something for college. I can't keep her in Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts for the next four years. In the meantime, she's waiting to hear from the dance department to see if she can start right away with her minor selection, since she didn't get any help in that department from the adviser who helped pick her classes in the psychology department. She was reticent about contacting the instructor we met in October, but I'm trying to make her see that she will have to advocate for herself in the coming years. We pay the bills, but we can't do everything for her anymore. Those days are over.
But it's going to take a minute before she's ready to let go.
And now the real world beckons.
As EB prepares for this next part of her world, it's been interesting to note how she balances her old life with the impending new. She's been out of school and adrift for almost a month and a half now, sleeping late, going out with friends, spending the gifted money she's received almost faster than she gets it (a physical impossibility that still baffles me), and yet becoming more anxious, not only about the fall, but the rest of the summer.
She's got to get a job. And she's actually turned down two jobs, because she's been promised another one through the city resources. She's been through workshops, CPR training, and yet the days drag on, with no start date in sight. After several emails to the coordinator, she was told she had mandatory three-day training for 2 1/2 hours in the middle of the week she had an intensive (and expensive) dance camp. When she told the coordinator those didn't work for her, she went into panic mode, thinking she had turned down two birds in hand and would be denied the promised one in the bush.
Now that mandatory training has been moved to the first week in July, since apparently she wasn't the only one who couldn't make it. There actually are some kids who were still in school until the last week of June. This has been quite the messy process to get a summer job, that will eventually last only a little more than a month before she is off to the wheat and sunflower state.
But she has occupied her time (between sleeping and Netflix) with lots and lots of friends. It seems every day she finds a new group or friend or two to just hang out with. It doesn't hurt that she has access to a car, but at least a couple of her friends have also been willing to drive to go to the beach, or to the mall, or to just get food. I figure they are all trying to squeeze in their last summer before they scatter to the winds of college or trade school. Interestingly, many of her friends are male and all platonic. She doesn't seem interested in dating any more, and we don't even talk about it. There will be time for the warning talk before we say our goodbyes, but for now she seems much happier with herself as a single lady than she ever was as half of a dysfunctional couple. This summer is definitely a turn for the better.
But June has been quite the swoon. Three straight weekends of whirlwind activity included her final dance recital, her graduation and her college orientation.
The trip to formerly my state U, and now Her State U, was for the most part good, but where would we be without the occasional return of the snarky attitude?
EB is a small city kid. I'm snarky enough to consider our place of residence a little city, because I grew up in what was then the second (now third) largest city in the country. But she's still a city kid, and she's going to a country college town, albeit one rated one of the top college towns for satisfaction, etc. Anyway, we spent a hot weekend in the middle of the country. Her dad and I got to spend a couple of days alone tooling around the countryside, since we both like long drives. EB went to two-day summer camp on steroids.
Of course she was snarky and crabby about it, texting us to ask if we could pick her up from the dorms early (we didn't) because it was boring and a waste of her time. Then she was tired, because they never let them rest. But even though she wouldn't participate in some of the goofiness, she couldn't keep from having somewhat of a good time, despite the fact that the temperature was 90-plus degrees every day. And she did make friends. One can only keep from smiling a little for so long in the face of all that relentless cheerfulness.
But the other part of her crabbiness came from the constant contact with her friends who went to Punta Cana, in the Dominican Republic the same week she had orientation with the country mice. The Snapchat stories and texts that she saw seemed as if everyone was having a much better time than she was, even with a few hiccups. (The stories ended up being a lot less fun, and a lot more dark when everyone got home, and she realized that even had we allowed her to go, her friends would have gotten on her nerves.) So EB spent way too much time comparing getting herself ready for college with the kids who work so they could go on the trip where there was drinking, drugs and sexual misconduct. After she heard the stories, she seemed to stop wishing she had gone.The reality didn't sound nearly as glamorous in the cold light of day. But she couldn't know that while she was turning her nose up, resisting the charms of the Wabash Cannonball dance.
Next month, God and the city services willing, Earbaby will have her first steady job. It will only be for the summer, but I'm hoping she will plan on saving something for college. I can't keep her in Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts for the next four years. In the meantime, she's waiting to hear from the dance department to see if she can start right away with her minor selection, since she didn't get any help in that department from the adviser who helped pick her classes in the psychology department. She was reticent about contacting the instructor we met in October, but I'm trying to make her see that she will have to advocate for herself in the coming years. We pay the bills, but we can't do everything for her anymore. Those days are over.
But it's going to take a minute before she's ready to let go.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
School's Out! ('Til college)
This is the end of an era. And it's pretty much all over until the cap and gown ceremony. And the parties that come before and after.
But suffice to say, Earbaby is more than ready to turn the page on high school. She's been at her venue for six years, starting there as a seventh grader. The school was huge then. She was coming from an almost all-white, smallish Catholic school. She stepped into so much diversity, she immediately stopped feeling like "the other." There were so many "others." There were other biracial kids, there were plenty of kids who spoke Spanish as a first language, plenty of black kids, white kids, Asian kids. Her friend circle quickly widened to a United Nations, in ethnicity, religion, and orientation. This school has served her well.
And now it's time to go. And she's ready.
EB started her countdown, probably around February, even as we were still stressing about college acceptances and where her next residence would be for the foreseeable future. But it really started in earnest around April. She only had a month and a half to go, and while we urged her not to start slacking up on her work (all college acceptances are provisional, dontcha know), there were some days of senioritis. The kid who practically had to be on her deathbed to miss school, suddenly acquired the constitution of a butterfly, and a prolonged case of the sniffles (or, I don't know, vapors?) would have her begging to stay home from school. No money on Netflix was ever so well spent.
Once we were all set with preparing for the prom (her date was a really nice and good friend, and they all had the time of their lives), she started getting ready to say goodbye. There were plenty of days she would come home and say, I am so ready to get away from these people, and many other words to that effect. Yes, she would surely miss her friends, but after so many of them flaked on her when she would try to make plans this entire school year (!), she was sarcastic when they begged her not to go so far away to school.
Oh, now you're going to miss me? she told me she would say. Yes, we both remembered the weekends she would make plans, and one by one, her friends would bail on her. One time, after she had gotten all dressed to go out, and everyone stood her up, she cried in frustration. Yes, she's ready to leave the high school drama behind, even the drama of her own making.
And she will leave with some good memories.
She's gotten closer to some acquaintances, who have now become good friends. She's regained a stronger sense of herself, something woefully missing during the lost junior year of heartache, headache, and out and out betrayal. Hard lessons learned need to remembered as she gets ready to strike out far away from parental involvement. Actions have consequences, snakes show themselves early (and often), and manipulators and controllers shouldn't ever be given the time of day.
But Earbaby is worried too. She knows she's in for a culture shock. But no matter which school she had chosen, it would have been a culture shock, whether HBCU, Midwestern or Southern. It was not going to be anything like home. While she's excited for the change, some of her teachers, well-meaning maybe, but short-sighted definitely, have warned her about going to a red state.
When I pointed out that none of these naysayers had ever been at the campus she chose, she accused me of sugar-coating my alma mater. I wish I could tell these teachers to skate in their own lane. They are contributing to the general anxiety she is starting to feel about moving away, but can't recognize it if her teachers are warning her about white supremacists, which (1) exist every where, even in the bluest of blue states, and (2) are less likely to be tolerated in a college town and on a college campus.
Incidents have been swiftly rooted out and shut down. Stupidity is embarrassing for college campuses and schools who rely on good press and alumni dollars. Racism is everywhere teachers. Stop telling my kid to be afraid. You're actually hurting her growth. You're not more concerned about her welfare than her parents. We would never send her anywhere we didn't think was safe, and you feeding her anxiety about leaving us, makes her think otherwise.
So yes, I'm ready for her to be done too. She's got a couple of weeks of inactivity, before the whirlwind of graduation, orientation, dance workshop for a full week and then a full summer of a job. She will end the roller coaster ride with her first semester in a state far, far away.
She vacillates between poisoning the nest with snarky comments and attitude, and being clingy and needy. This is her final stretch run, and I can tell she's not sure she's ready for it. It's going to be a long, complicated summer.
Sigh.
But suffice to say, Earbaby is more than ready to turn the page on high school. She's been at her venue for six years, starting there as a seventh grader. The school was huge then. She was coming from an almost all-white, smallish Catholic school. She stepped into so much diversity, she immediately stopped feeling like "the other." There were so many "others." There were other biracial kids, there were plenty of kids who spoke Spanish as a first language, plenty of black kids, white kids, Asian kids. Her friend circle quickly widened to a United Nations, in ethnicity, religion, and orientation. This school has served her well.
And now it's time to go. And she's ready.
EB started her countdown, probably around February, even as we were still stressing about college acceptances and where her next residence would be for the foreseeable future. But it really started in earnest around April. She only had a month and a half to go, and while we urged her not to start slacking up on her work (all college acceptances are provisional, dontcha know), there were some days of senioritis. The kid who practically had to be on her deathbed to miss school, suddenly acquired the constitution of a butterfly, and a prolonged case of the sniffles (or, I don't know, vapors?) would have her begging to stay home from school. No money on Netflix was ever so well spent.
Once we were all set with preparing for the prom (her date was a really nice and good friend, and they all had the time of their lives), she started getting ready to say goodbye. There were plenty of days she would come home and say, I am so ready to get away from these people, and many other words to that effect. Yes, she would surely miss her friends, but after so many of them flaked on her when she would try to make plans this entire school year (!), she was sarcastic when they begged her not to go so far away to school.
Oh, now you're going to miss me? she told me she would say. Yes, we both remembered the weekends she would make plans, and one by one, her friends would bail on her. One time, after she had gotten all dressed to go out, and everyone stood her up, she cried in frustration. Yes, she's ready to leave the high school drama behind, even the drama of her own making.
And she will leave with some good memories.
She's gotten closer to some acquaintances, who have now become good friends. She's regained a stronger sense of herself, something woefully missing during the lost junior year of heartache, headache, and out and out betrayal. Hard lessons learned need to remembered as she gets ready to strike out far away from parental involvement. Actions have consequences, snakes show themselves early (and often), and manipulators and controllers shouldn't ever be given the time of day.
But Earbaby is worried too. She knows she's in for a culture shock. But no matter which school she had chosen, it would have been a culture shock, whether HBCU, Midwestern or Southern. It was not going to be anything like home. While she's excited for the change, some of her teachers, well-meaning maybe, but short-sighted definitely, have warned her about going to a red state.
When I pointed out that none of these naysayers had ever been at the campus she chose, she accused me of sugar-coating my alma mater. I wish I could tell these teachers to skate in their own lane. They are contributing to the general anxiety she is starting to feel about moving away, but can't recognize it if her teachers are warning her about white supremacists, which (1) exist every where, even in the bluest of blue states, and (2) are less likely to be tolerated in a college town and on a college campus.
Incidents have been swiftly rooted out and shut down. Stupidity is embarrassing for college campuses and schools who rely on good press and alumni dollars. Racism is everywhere teachers. Stop telling my kid to be afraid. You're actually hurting her growth. You're not more concerned about her welfare than her parents. We would never send her anywhere we didn't think was safe, and you feeding her anxiety about leaving us, makes her think otherwise.
So yes, I'm ready for her to be done too. She's got a couple of weeks of inactivity, before the whirlwind of graduation, orientation, dance workshop for a full week and then a full summer of a job. She will end the roller coaster ride with her first semester in a state far, far away.
She vacillates between poisoning the nest with snarky comments and attitude, and being clingy and needy. This is her final stretch run, and I can tell she's not sure she's ready for it. It's going to be a long, complicated summer.
Sigh.
Sunday, April 30, 2017
Cheers, fears, tears, and the decision
In my idyllic scenario, this is how Earbaby chooses her college: We visit the last three of the four colleges where she's been accepted. She either likes one or two more, or maybe even all three, with all their relative merits. She, along with her dad and I, thoughtfully weigh the pros and cons of each school, taking into account the way they woo her with scholarship and/or grant offers, the opportunities in her particular fields of study (psychology with a strong dance minor) and how they will work to meld those two interests. Knowing that wherever she will choose, it will be far, far away, we then come to a loving consensus that will make us all satisfied, with a little melancholy.
It didn't work out that way.
We (her dad and I) pulled a bait and switch. It wasn't intentional, and I regret the way the decision-making process played out. We're all in accord now, but not with the beatific smiles all around that I pictured in my college decision fantasy.
So here it is: EB didn't know if she would be celebrating being a Bear, Panther, Tiger or Wildcat. Four acceptances meant she would have to make a tough choice, especially if she loved all four, and could see herself on all four campuses. After a day at Morgan State, in which there was a rah-rah open house, replete with tours, marching band, all kinds of bells and whistles, EB decided that the student body of 8,000 in this historically black college/university wasn't the right fit for her. It was nice, but she wasn't feeling it. Cross the Ursine off the list of mascots. Her decision was now down to three felines.
EB had already visited my alma mater in October, applied when we returned, was readily accepted, and given an incredibly generous heritage scholarship. So the money was a major factor. Her dad and I figured it would come down to one of the predominantly white institutions she got into. EB is coming from an incredibly diverse high school after being one of less than a handful of children of color in private elementary school. Good academic education aside, she wasn't happy about going back to feeling like an "other."
Next on our list was another HBCU, even smaller than Morgan State. But EB has a friend at Clark Atlanta, who gave us a tour. EB (and her parents) liked it more than we thought we would, EB liked the vibe of the southern campus, found a positive in the fact that it was in Atlanta, because she despaired of not being near a big city. But there is precious little scholarship or grant money for people in our income bracket (although we're hardly in rich people category, we do only have one child and two incomes). So we're outside of consideration for money at either HBCU. Because we're from out of state, we would be paying full price, so that others wouldn't have to. Although Clark Atlanta had much charm, its facilities were limited, so she wouldn't get what she was paying for. So we had to take the Panthers off the list.
Her dad and I always figured it would come down to one of the large PWIs. Louisiana State had been on EB's list since a college fair a year ago, and then a friend went for a semester. She ended up returning to the Bay State after a semester because of the price tag, but urged Earbaby to go there because it was so great, so much fun, and the people were so nice. So would it be SEC or Big 12?
Well, we visited for their big kickoff weekend. EB was given a badge that stated she was LSU bound, showing she was already accepted, a personalized schedule, which was essentially one visit for a talk in a classroom with a psychology teacher who had only been there two years, and a whole lot of rah-rah places you could go on your extensive free time. The kickoff actually seemed more geared toward the large number of juniors who were looking for a school to apply to than to the students who had already gotten in. There was talk about financial aid and scholarships that didn't apply to her. A couple of promises of one-on-one sessions with financial aid and someone in the dance/theater department didn't come through (EB was given a phone number to call to talk to someone about dance on the following Monday, because apparently only one person in the entire university could speak to a prospective student and they had no idea where she was). At the end of the day, EB's dad just said, "they didn't blow me away."
For EB though, she didn't see the dismissiveness, the lack of personal attention, the casual quick reference to the celebration of "plantation days" (though that made all three of us cringe), as negatives. She didn't want to follow in my footsteps. She was ready to Geaux Tigers, even at $40,000-plus a year. But she also liked the vibe, and it was more diverse than Kansas State. She couldn't quantify why she loved it, only that she could picture herself going there.
We couldn't. But after looking at the numbers, had we really believed she could thrive there and not get lost in the impersonal nature of it all, we would have tried to make it work. At my state U, I wanted her to go for several reasons, including the award she was given which would put the numbers she was paying closer to instate. When they really want you, you don't pay full price. When they don't care, your full price pays so the ones they really want don't have to. We couldn't make her see that.
I decided I would back off until we had time to talk about it as a family, weighing the real pros and cons of culture, diversity, opportunity, and of course, money. College is a business first and foremost. We wanted her to see that the school that was willing to make an investment in her, that kept wooing her, checking up on her, was probably going to be best for her. My sister said, you go with the boyfriend who treats you best. EB was enamored with the one who ignored her.
My husband said he would talk to her. And that's where we both blew it. Instead of us all sitting down, he just told her she was going to Kansas State, and that was that. She cried all night, didn't go to school the next day, she and I talked, then the three of us talked. We apologized for the ham-fisted way of coming to the decision we had told her she would be able to make. But she wasn't able to see the forest for the trees. I did tell her that if she absolutely hated K-State after one year, she could transfer, a gamble I'm willing to make, but a promise I will absolutely keep. She decided she could go to LSU for graduate school. At least this way there will be money for graduate school. And who knows what she will want a year, or four, from now?
Gradually, she is warming to the idea of the Little Apple (the nickname for Manhattan, Kansas). I started warming to it even more when I went through the paperwork and saw the president of the university had sent her a letter way back when, welcoming her to KSU (Where was yours, LSU? One measly folder, two emails, then crickets). Once we signed up for orientation, she started getting more excited.
Yes, we handled it badly. I hope she will forgive us that. But we think this will be a place where she can make her own path, and if not, she will be able to find a new one. It was a bloody battle to get to this point. I hope it will make us all stronger. In the meantime, Go Wildcats.
And you'd better take damn good care of my Earbaby.
It didn't work out that way.
We (her dad and I) pulled a bait and switch. It wasn't intentional, and I regret the way the decision-making process played out. We're all in accord now, but not with the beatific smiles all around that I pictured in my college decision fantasy.
So here it is: EB didn't know if she would be celebrating being a Bear, Panther, Tiger or Wildcat. Four acceptances meant she would have to make a tough choice, especially if she loved all four, and could see herself on all four campuses. After a day at Morgan State, in which there was a rah-rah open house, replete with tours, marching band, all kinds of bells and whistles, EB decided that the student body of 8,000 in this historically black college/university wasn't the right fit for her. It was nice, but she wasn't feeling it. Cross the Ursine off the list of mascots. Her decision was now down to three felines.
EB had already visited my alma mater in October, applied when we returned, was readily accepted, and given an incredibly generous heritage scholarship. So the money was a major factor. Her dad and I figured it would come down to one of the predominantly white institutions she got into. EB is coming from an incredibly diverse high school after being one of less than a handful of children of color in private elementary school. Good academic education aside, she wasn't happy about going back to feeling like an "other."
Next on our list was another HBCU, even smaller than Morgan State. But EB has a friend at Clark Atlanta, who gave us a tour. EB (and her parents) liked it more than we thought we would, EB liked the vibe of the southern campus, found a positive in the fact that it was in Atlanta, because she despaired of not being near a big city. But there is precious little scholarship or grant money for people in our income bracket (although we're hardly in rich people category, we do only have one child and two incomes). So we're outside of consideration for money at either HBCU. Because we're from out of state, we would be paying full price, so that others wouldn't have to. Although Clark Atlanta had much charm, its facilities were limited, so she wouldn't get what she was paying for. So we had to take the Panthers off the list.
Her dad and I always figured it would come down to one of the large PWIs. Louisiana State had been on EB's list since a college fair a year ago, and then a friend went for a semester. She ended up returning to the Bay State after a semester because of the price tag, but urged Earbaby to go there because it was so great, so much fun, and the people were so nice. So would it be SEC or Big 12?
Well, we visited for their big kickoff weekend. EB was given a badge that stated she was LSU bound, showing she was already accepted, a personalized schedule, which was essentially one visit for a talk in a classroom with a psychology teacher who had only been there two years, and a whole lot of rah-rah places you could go on your extensive free time. The kickoff actually seemed more geared toward the large number of juniors who were looking for a school to apply to than to the students who had already gotten in. There was talk about financial aid and scholarships that didn't apply to her. A couple of promises of one-on-one sessions with financial aid and someone in the dance/theater department didn't come through (EB was given a phone number to call to talk to someone about dance on the following Monday, because apparently only one person in the entire university could speak to a prospective student and they had no idea where she was). At the end of the day, EB's dad just said, "they didn't blow me away."
For EB though, she didn't see the dismissiveness, the lack of personal attention, the casual quick reference to the celebration of "plantation days" (though that made all three of us cringe), as negatives. She didn't want to follow in my footsteps. She was ready to Geaux Tigers, even at $40,000-plus a year. But she also liked the vibe, and it was more diverse than Kansas State. She couldn't quantify why she loved it, only that she could picture herself going there.
We couldn't. But after looking at the numbers, had we really believed she could thrive there and not get lost in the impersonal nature of it all, we would have tried to make it work. At my state U, I wanted her to go for several reasons, including the award she was given which would put the numbers she was paying closer to instate. When they really want you, you don't pay full price. When they don't care, your full price pays so the ones they really want don't have to. We couldn't make her see that.
I decided I would back off until we had time to talk about it as a family, weighing the real pros and cons of culture, diversity, opportunity, and of course, money. College is a business first and foremost. We wanted her to see that the school that was willing to make an investment in her, that kept wooing her, checking up on her, was probably going to be best for her. My sister said, you go with the boyfriend who treats you best. EB was enamored with the one who ignored her.
My husband said he would talk to her. And that's where we both blew it. Instead of us all sitting down, he just told her she was going to Kansas State, and that was that. She cried all night, didn't go to school the next day, she and I talked, then the three of us talked. We apologized for the ham-fisted way of coming to the decision we had told her she would be able to make. But she wasn't able to see the forest for the trees. I did tell her that if she absolutely hated K-State after one year, she could transfer, a gamble I'm willing to make, but a promise I will absolutely keep. She decided she could go to LSU for graduate school. At least this way there will be money for graduate school. And who knows what she will want a year, or four, from now?
Gradually, she is warming to the idea of the Little Apple (the nickname for Manhattan, Kansas). I started warming to it even more when I went through the paperwork and saw the president of the university had sent her a letter way back when, welcoming her to KSU (Where was yours, LSU? One measly folder, two emails, then crickets). Once we signed up for orientation, she started getting more excited.
Yes, we handled it badly. I hope she will forgive us that. But we think this will be a place where she can make her own path, and if not, she will be able to find a new one. It was a bloody battle to get to this point. I hope it will make us all stronger. In the meantime, Go Wildcats.
And you'd better take damn good care of my Earbaby.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)