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Made lists
Cleaned bathrooms for no good reason even the toilets
Threw away old stuff
Poured more Drano down the shower drain
Checked pantry for mouse poop
Washed hands many times
Started laundry and sprinkled in essential oils to combat stink
Washed all the clothes I wore in the hospital and thought of Avett Brothers lyric
Ate a brownie
Finished the milk
Went through the accumulated mail
Found another speed camera ticket
Answered 12-year-old’s question “what happens if you can’t afford to pay a ticket?” by explaining they just keep doubling the fine until you can’t afford it even more and there’s nothing you can do about it
Perused the library books I checked out
Put several in the pile to return
Read a chapter or two of several others, mostly about British witches
Had hot flashes
Changed pajamas
Had hot flashes
Changed pajamas
Ate saltines
Tried to plug in 12-year-old’s phone but couldn’t find the charger
Dust-busted some lint in a corner
Looked online for used loft beds and chairs
Wondered why people use strange names for chairs
Thought about measuring space where chair would go but didn’t, again
Wondered why resale economics is so confusing
Put stuff in Amazon cart for when money appears in bank account
Felt guilty about using Amazon but not enough to stop
Rearranged apps on phone screen to reflect current realities and also make pretty patterns
Checked location of daughter out late at college and remembered it’s ok to go out late at college
Checked location of daughter to make sure she was no longer out
Piled up trash by the front door
Scowled at heap of recycling that has not broken itself down or taken itself out
Checked all social media platforms for anything important, found nothing
Couldn’t stop thinking even for a second during all this activity about the fact that there’s a tumor in a lab somewhere that was recently in my husband’s brain and how that clump of cells has changed all of our lives and we don’t even know how yet
The night before we drove to Georgia to take my daughter to college, we stayed with my cousin and his family, which includes a clever and adorable toddler. While Zoe had never met the little guy until that night, coming off her summer as a camp counselor and years of babysitting gigs, they became fast friends. Around 4am, I heard Mr. Toddler crying and wanted to give his parents a break and tend to him. He was happy to have a new diaper and I tried to get him back to sleep, but he was not having it. He raced into the living room and I assumed he was heading for his parents’ bedroom. Instead, he veered toward the air mattress where Zoe was sleeping. I tried a few times to scoop him up and redirect him back to his room or just onto the couch with me, but he was insistent on being with Zoe. He snuggled up with her, she curled her arm around him, and they both fell back asleep.
Naturally, I took this as a sign. Here was my baby girl–preparing to make her own way in the world–and instead of seeking comfort, she was providing it to someone else much younger and more vulnerable than she is. Of course, it’s not quite that simple, but it made for a nice metaphor and a sweet photograph.
It’s been two weeks now since we moved Zoe into her freshman dorm. I have reminded myself 1,000 times that Zoe’s experience in college will be different from mine. Our personalities and ways of being in the world are distinct. No one had smartphones or even email or the internet when I started college. Her college–which I think is exactly right for her–emphasizes different values and opportunities than mine did (at least at the time). And, humans are still human and the mix of emotions and desires and fears and aspirations remain the same. I’m so excited to be on my own and I’m terrified to be on my own. I can’t wait to meet new people and make new friends but the ones I have already are so good why do I need others and what if people don’t like me and what if they do and who do I want to be in this place? What if I don’t know what to do? What if I make a mistake? Am I ready for this? This is all so different from what I’m used to and there’s so much to take in–when will I be able to relax and feel like this is home? But I already have a home 600 miles away. Big sigh.
I’m pretty sure all these questions have been swirling around in Zoe’s mind, even though she’s only articulated some of them to me. And while I am absolutely confident that Zoe has what she needs to thrive in college, I have all the correlating parent concerns. Zoe is great at making friends and has demonstrated that in particular throughout the years she’s been a camper and camp counselor. She proved at camp that she can learn new skills and excel at new responsibilities. She’s overcome homesickness and learned from mistakes. She’s planned and taken trips with friends, she knows how to cook, and she’s handled more than her share of car breakdowns. So there is no doubt in my mind that she can do this. It’s more about the how and when. How will she find her people and how long will it take ? Thankfully, she already has a fantastic roommate who she met on Instagram over the summer (which apparently is how many college kids match with roommates these days). Having a great roommate is an ideal foundation, but you can’t put all your social eggs in one person’s basket. Will she take advantage of the opportunities offered to her? Will she go after things that might be outside her comfort zone without me there to encourage her? Will she ask for help when she needs it instead of struggling in silence? Specifically, will she ask for help from people who aren’t me?
This was the primary focus of the day-long family orientation we participated in the day after moving Zoe into her dorm and taking her on what seemed like the 77th Target run of the week. While the students engaged in their own orientation activities, Randy and I heard from deans and department heads and staff and students about all the ways the college works to educate our kids, enable them to become leaders, and teach them to become global citizens (all while providing emotional, social, and physical support and care). Just as life for students is different than it was 30 years ago, so is life for parents. I’ve heard from friends who are college professors and admissions staff the absurd lengths that some parents go to once their children are enrolled to make sure their needs are met–unwilling or unable to let or make their kids figure things out for themselves. (“My child is sick, can someone please bring them some chicken soup?” “I see that it’s raining there, can someone at the school give my child an umbrella?”) So the orientation was provided so anxious parents would know what’s what and how things work, so when our kids inevitably ask us for help or tell us they don’t know what’s going on or how to do what they’re supposed to do, we can tell them with certainty that there’s someone or some office that they can visit. This was a common refrain throughout the orientation sessions, “If you student says they don’t/can’t/haven’t/are confused about something, your job is not to try to fix the problem, or to call us. Your job is to tell your student, ‘Ask your advisor/RA/professor/dean/any of the people at the college whose job is to help you.'”
Two of the deans who we heard from were especially kind and reassuring in their words to us. It was clear they weren’t chastising us for wanting to help our kids. It’s our Mama (or Papa or Auntie or Grandma or Grandpa, etc) Bear instinct. We never want to see our kids struggling or in pain, so we want to make whatever is troubling them go away as fast as possible. Turns out that college is a lot like preschool in some ways. It takes longer and a lot of patience to get your kids to learn to find and put on their own shoes and coat than when you do it for them, but if you do it for them, what incentive do they have to learn to do it themselves? Some kids might decide they want the autonomy, and some kids won’t. I suspect that college will be like preschool sometimes in that I won’t always be able to stop myself from trying to solve a problem instead of encouraging Zoe to solve it herself, but I promise I’m going to try.
The Dean of the College shared in her remarks that she is the mother of a college student herself, and that last year her daughter was a freshman at a college far away from home. Her daughter called to say she was sick–congested, coughing, and generally feeling awful. Often when you feel like that, you just want your mom. And the dean was ready to get on a plane. She said she even had the flight selected on the computer when she called her friend –the other dean–and asked if she should go take care of her daughter. The answer, unsurprisingly, was no. The daughter was not in grave danger–she had a yucky virus. The Mama Dean took some deep breaths and closed her laptop. And it turned out her daughter’s roommates were happy to go to the store to get her some medicine, chicken soup, and gatorade. Her daughter’s professors understood why she missed a couple classes and she was able to make up her assignments. And most importantly, both daughter and mom knew that daughter had made it through being sick far away from home and felt better knowing it. When the dean was telling this story, I started to tear up. I really hadn’t cried the day before–there was so much to be done and so much adrenaline and I didn’t have to say goodbye to Zoe yet–but right then, hearing from Mama Dean, my emotion started to leak out. After that session I went up to Mama Dean to thank her for sharing that story and she said she saw me there in the second row tearing up and that she knew exactly what I was feeling. That was one of the many moments during those two days when I knew that Zoe would be well looked after.
I didn’t realize how soon after hearing these wise words from the college staff that I would have to challenge myself to follow their instructions.
“I got an email from the professor of the class I was on the waitlist for. I didn’t really understand what she was asking us to do and it seems hard and I don’t know what to do should I just drop the class? “
“Why don’t you email the professor and ask her your questions directly?”
“I shouldn’t just drop the class?”
“Well, you could, but I think it would be better if you asked the professor your questions in case you want to take the class or another class from her in the future, so you can get a better understanding of what she’s doing.”
Zoe did email the professor, got more information, and decided she would like to take the class in the future but didn’t feel ready for it yet, which she told the professor. Other questions, “What should I do this weekend? I don’t know anything that’s going on and I don’t know what anyone is doing.” were trickier to answer. I admit I offered some combination of “ask around, look around, what about x or y?” but was met with some resistance. Eventually Zoe said some friends were going thrifting after seeing a movie, and she wanted to go thrifting but not see the movie, and she didn’t know how to accomplish that. At the moment I was tired and I texted, “I trust that you will figure it out.” And lo and behold, she did. She has skipped a few of the activities where I thought she might meet people, but she swore she would attend the student engagement fair tomorrow. I asked her to promise me that she would talk with people at at least four tables and sign up for at least two things. She said she would. I am optimistic.
Meanwhile, she’s been doing her homework. She is excited about her professors and the readings. All her classes are subjects she is genuinely curious about and interested in. I am trying not to ask her too many questions about what she’s doing in class, but am always happy to engage when she brings it up. I learned long ago that I tend to ask more questions than most teenagers (or at least Zoe) are interested in answering. I’m a work in progress. Zoe’s called several times. I’ve learned that if I’m in the middle of something I can text her back to ask if it’s urgent. Usually it’s not and she says I can call her back later. I did pick up right away when she called to tell me about Taylor Swift’s and Travis Kelce’s engagement. Some news just can’t wait.
Even though she was away most of the summer working at camp, this feels different–because it is. I know she’s coming home for a weekend in October, and then for Thanksgiving and winter break. But knowing just how far away she is and everything she’s working to figure out–and how much energy that requires–it’s hard to be the Mama Bear right now. She’s been right here with me for 18 years and suddenly she’s not. My heart hurts.
Some people are more private about their emotions and their family life, which I respect. I tend to share (some might say overshare, but oh well) because I need the solidarity and affirmation and encouragement that my community provides. A couple days ago I posted on Facebook about overwhelming feelings of anxiety brought on by a variety of things, including Zoe’s absence. The responses I received were reassuring and comforting. In particular, a friend of mine from church who has two grown daughters of her own, said this: “Remember that you are with Zoe – as cells created in your body, as a lifetime of wise actions you modeled, and as loving words that will follow her the rest of her days. And she resides in your heart.” Rereading it now makes the tears come again.
Zoe gives me long, emphatic hugs. When we said goodbye the night before we left Georgia, I thought she might hold on forever. I was a little teary then, but I was proud of myself for keeping the sobs in until we were far away from her dorm. As she continues on her college adventure, I’ll be here to listen to–and try not to solve-her problems. And I’ll look forward to that hug when she comes home.
It is true that I like to plan and organize things, particularly if they are related to something I’m excited about. I will never become a corporate event planner or a travel agent, but I like planning things that matter to me. Right now, for example, I am in the midst of planning an event at my church for families with LGBTQIA+ kids. I love to plan trips for my family, complete with detailed itineraries that everyone makes fun of and we always stray from but at least we have a starting point and options. I love options. Which is why I have thoroughly enjoyed envisioning and implementing my 16-year-old’s college search process. Why am I doing this instead of her, you might ask? I’ll tell you.
- I understand what college is and how it works much better than she does, since I went through the search process and attended college and graduated, and I know many other people who have done the same. At first I thought she magically knew all the things I knew about college, but it turns out that’s not the case.
- One thing I’ve learned about parenting her over the past 16 years is that I have a pretty good sense of what she wants and what she needs even if she doesn’t realize what she wants and what she needs at the moment. I am proud of my track record of things I’ve mildly coerced her into doing (which she resisted simply because they were unfamiliar) that she ended up really loving. So I have come to understand that she often hesitates about jumping into something she hasn’t seen for herself. I think she connects with experiential learning. It turns out that our college visits have helped her learn about her interests, or at least reveal to us interests we didn’t realize she had.
- I like to plan ahead. See above comment about often-mocked but still appreciated vacation itineraries. I’ve wondered for a while why so many families and schools wait until it’s almost time to apply to colleges to start looking at colleges. By the time you’re a senior, or even well into junior year, your GPA is pretty firmly established. You may not have the opportunity to sign up for any more classes. When you’re touring colleges, they say they want to see that you’ve challenged yourself in high school. By late junior year or early senior year, you’ve already taken or at least signed up for all your high school classes. You’ve already been doing most of the activities you’re going to do. It’s certainly possible you will take up a new sport or learn to play a new instrument as a junior or senior, but probably not likely. So that’s why I started this process when my daughter was in 10th grade, so there was still time for her to absorb the information we learned from college visits and act on it. I also anticipated that she would be unavailable for the entire summer between 11th and 12th grades because she aspires to work as a camp counselor at the sleepaway camp she attended for eight summers. That would mean no college visits during that time, which is often when families have the opportunity to tour.
Many people have asked how I started the search, since the universe of universities can seem so overwhelming, given that there are approximately 4,000 of them in the US. So the first thing is to narrow the scope. This does not mean that the initial list you make will be the final list, or that your kid won’t change their minds about what they want many times. And that is totally fine. But you have to start somewhere. Here’s the path we’ve taken so far. (Disclaimer: I am not saying this is the path for your kid, and I am not inviting debate or discussion here. Just explaining our experience).
- During her freshman year, I was concerned about the lack of self-confidence she expressed when talking about people she knew who were being accepted into colleges that she felt sure she could not get into. Similarly, she seemed daunted by the prospect of taking AP classes because she had heard how hard they were. Of course this prompted me to launch into one of many “you can do hard things” speeches that parents pull out of their back pockets when needed. I attempted to explain to her that she did not have to go to any particular kind of college, or a famous or prestigious college, and that she could take a gap year if she didn’t want to go to college right after school. She could work or volunteer or take time to think if she wasn’t ready for college. We’ve emphasized this a lot. But that she does eventually have to go to college and she does have to take hard classes because she is capable and it’s important to challenge yourself. At this point it was still all theoretical.
- While we were on vacation, we toured a well-known college in that city. Not because of any particular program that school offered, but simply because it was there. As in, “hey, here’s a college! Let’s look at it just for fun!” I hadn’t really prepared her for this tour and she mentally freaked out, as demonstrated by total silence, walking 20 feet ahead or behind us at all times, refusal to discuss anything during or after the tour, and unwillingness to read the brochure. So that didn’t go super well.
- Later, when everyone was in a better mood. Perhaps this was days or weeks later, I don’t really remember, she asked me a lot of questions about how college works which I didn’t realize she didn’t know. After that, she seemed to feel reassured that she could, in fact, handle the concept of college, and was more open to thinking and talking about it.
- One of her teachers suggested to me that my daughter might be interested in one of the Seven Sisters women’s colleges. My first reaction was, “Whoa aren’t those super expensive? We are not rich!” But her teacher assured me that these schools give generous scholarships, which turns out to be true, and was one of the first lessons I learned during the search process, which is that the sticker price of a private university is basically meaningless. I am still trying to understand exactly why that is the case, but I know that it is. There is a lot of money out there, whether or not you qualify for need-based financial aid. For example, at one school we visited, they give you an automatic $25,000 scholarship if you were a member of the National Honor Society. I felt so vindicated when we learned this in an info session because I made Zoe apply to her school’s NHS even though she didn’t understand why it mattered. Another school that we’re planning to visit this fall just sent us an email saying “every admitted student receives at least $24,000 in renewable scholarship upon admission.” Like I said, the way this works does not make sense to me, but there it is. What I have told my daughter is that she can apply anywhere she wants, and we’ll see where she gets in and what aid they offer her. Anyway the point here is that we took a day trip to the nearest Seven Sisters school, which was beautiful, and my daughter was receptive to learning about the school, appreciated its intimacy and traditions and proximity to a cool city, and she was able to start seeing herself as a college student.
- At this point I was able to start asking questions, since she had some context for coming up with answers. We discussed geography, and she said she wanted to stay on the East Coast, basically within a day’s drive. A smaller school where she can get to know professors appeals to her, so we’ve concentrated on schools with populations roughly 5,000 or fewer. However, a few larger schools with smaller programs in her area of focus have recently made their way on to the list, but she definitely wants to be part of a tight community. We’ll get to that later. She also mentioned that she did not want to go to a school with a Greek system or a big focus on sports. It turns out, we’ve since learned, that this means Division III athletics. I think almost every college we’ve visited is Division III, which means they definitely have sports but sports are not the most important thing at the school. At one college we we toured, when they took us to the gym, I asked if many students attend games. The tour guide said that their women’s volleyball team had recently won the division championship, and that volleyball games in that gym were usually standing room only, better attended than basketball or football, which my daughter and I both thought was awesome. She knew that she wants to study abroad so it was important to find a school that offers plenty of opportunities for that. And I knew, even if she didn’t yet realize it, that we needed to look at schools that offer generous financial aid.
- Armed with this information, I started looking at lists. My first stop was Colleges that Change Lives. I don’t remember where I first heard of this book, which is now also a website and a whole organization, but it seemed like a good place to start. First of all, college should be a transformative experience, and second, I liked the idea that someone had already vetted these schools and decided they were special in some way. I read about many of the 44 colleges, focusing on those within roughly 600 miles north and south of us. I requested information from any of them that seemed even remotely like a good fit. At this point, my daughter didn’t really have any idea what she wanted to study. The only class she was especially interested in was psychology, so we used that as a placeholder. Most colleges have psychology programs, so we weren’t ruling anything out based on academic offerings yet.
- I created a spreadsheet with a row for each prospective colleges, and columns to fill in info like location, size, admission rate, average GPA of admitted students, percentage of students of color (we wanted a school that is diverse, like our high school and community), percentage of students who study abroad, etc. I’ve modified the spreadsheet many times and it has given birth to baby spreadsheets with subsets of information.
- Understanding that Colleges that Change Lives is just a small slice of the big pie of possibly great colleges, I opened up the Fiske Guide. This is one of the few nods to my own college search process, which was much narrower and seemingly haphazard. I love a nice big reference book, and Fiske is just that. I had bought a copy earlier when I was introducing the idea of the Seven Sisters schools, so my daughter could get a little insight into them. Each entry is only a couple pages long, and they include ratings on social life and environment and cost and things like that. She underlined and highlighted elements of the entries that interested her. This was kind of a baby step in terms of her engagement in the process, but it was an important one. One of the most useful parts of the Fiske, in my opinion, is where they say something like “people who applied to this school also applied to these other five schools.” If you liked this book, be sure to check out these other books with a similar vibe. So I looked up every school on our list in Fiske, and added relevant details to the spreadsheet. Then I looked up every school listed in the “if you liked this school” part of the entry, and read about them to see if they met our other criteria. If they did –or came close–I added them to the spreadsheet and requested information on their websites.
- A friend whose daughter had just gone through the college search process mentioned Niche.com. This is a handy website where you can look up a college and find a lot of information at a glance, including their “grades” for each school based on value, academics, campus, etc. These may be useful but should not be taken as gospel. Different things matter more or less to different people. Overall it’s a great resource, but I have two favorite features on Niche.com. 1) a more robust version of the “if you liked this college…” component of the Fiske, which suggests schools that similar to the one you’re looking at based on several different metrics, like “here’s another school with 2,000 students or fewer,” or “here’s another school with a top nursing program,” or “here’s another school in Pennsylvania.” So you can certainly go down many rabbit holes, but eventually you feel like you’ve thoroughly examined each category. 2) You can compare schools side by side, just like you would when you’re buying a refrigerator from Home Depot or a coffeemaker on Amazon. Comparing schools has been useful when looking at net costs, acceptance rates, and other numbers. I will reiterate that these are all numbers and not the only factors in decision making. Niche.com can’t tell you if the vibe at a school feels right to your kid. But it may be able to tell you if your kid is likely to get in or not, so you can make sure they’re applying to some schools they definitely will get into, as well as maybe some schools they’d like to attend but might be a reach. So I added several schools to the spreadsheet that Niche.com suggested.
- We started to schedule visits. I’ve heard from many experienced parents that it’s just as important to tour schools you don’t like so your student continues to sharpen their sense of what appeals to them, what matters to them, and what they might want to avoid. So, while I didn’t want to waste our time going places I thought my daughter would hate, I definitely included some maybes on the schedule. Here’s what I’ve learned since we started doing tours. 1) Don’t schedule more than one school in a day, even if they’re in the same town or city. It’s too much, mentally and physically, to absorb and process. 2) Do schedule an info session and a tour. You will get different information and perspectives from each. Info sessions are typically (but not always) led by admission staff, while tours are led by students. 3) Ask questions during both the info session and the tour, but also remember you can read the brochure and look things up online, so you don’t have to ask everything. 4) Bring a water bottle and wear comfortable shoes. Maybe a raincoat and umbrella. Some people I know like to eat on campus when they visit. I do not, because 1) I feel like it’s weird to eat there when you’re not a student and you have other options, like a real restaurant. 2)You can find out how the food is from other sources, and 3) a given meal might not be an accurate representation of the food overall.
- Somewhere in the middle of all this, my daughter discovered what she wants to study and do for a living, which is something in the realm of filmmaking, video production, photography, broadcast journalism, or media arts. Every school seems to call it something different, and she is still exploring what areas of the field she wants to dig into–which is great–she has so much time ahead of her to figure it out. But once she had this epiphany, that definitely changed the shape of our search. We started looking more intentionally for schools with film/video/media arts programs. This is slightly tricky because, as I mentioned, different schools label these things differently. She doesn’t want to study film, or theory, or just communications. She wants to make things. So that has added and eliminated schools to and from our list. It is important to note, however, that we have not struck a college from the list simply because it doesn’t have a media program if it is in a consortium with other schools that do offer great options in this field. It’s quite possible that she could attend a small women’s college that has amazing leadership opportunities and a progressive vibe and close-knit community while also taking film and photography courses at one of its partner institutions. We have learned that most schools, at least in big cities, are part of these consortia and you can easily cross-register for classes and basically have the resources of several schools available to you.
- And that brings us up to speed. So far we’ve visited 8 of the 14 colleges currently on our list. We have tours scheduled for three more this fall, and are planning to take on two more next spring break. We have one late-breaking entry that we haven’t schedule yet, but it’s relatively close by, so we can squeeze it in. And there are few more schools that are basically like notes in the margin of the spreadsheet right now. Maybe someone suggested we check them out, or we heard them mentioned somewhere, so I will do a little research to see if they merit a trip. I’m sure that some of the schools will be crossed off the list after we visit, and some may rise to the top. We still have 14 months until any applications are due. I imagine by then my daughter will have forgotten her impressions from some of our trips. Between now and then she will probably meet with some admissions officers when they visit her school, or at college fairs. Her school counselor encouraged her to contact the admissions office or professors in the departments she’s interested in to ask questions, as colleges look favorable upon applicants who have demonstrated a deeper than average curiosity and interest in the school. The list of schools where she actually applies will probably look pretty different from our current list. We have time to sort it all out. Once she knows where she’s been accepted, she can always visit again for admitted students day or an overnight.
- Of course I’ve already been thinking about next spreadsheet. This one I’m going to have her create, but I’ll help. This one will include the name of the admissions officer and the application requirements and deadlines, and the requirements and deadlines for the scholarships each school offers. And of course there will be another spreadsheet for other scholarships. Thank goodness for the internet. When I was in high school I had to look these things up at the library. I think I only knew about a fraction of the opportunities that were out there. Fortunately, I found one school I wanted to attend, and I applied early and got in and I loved my time there and it all worked out. But I was a different kind of student with a different personality than my daughter, and the world is different than in was in the 90s, so I want to open up the world for her as much as it’s in my power to do.
In the meantime, I will keep loving our road trips. Our next one is to upstate New York, to a city neither of us has ever seen. Every time we travel–for college visits or otherwise–we get excited about finding local coffee shops with resident cats, browsing through independent bookstores, and eating at funky little restaurants. We usually end up walking for miles. We listen to our favorite music and stock up on snacks for the car and notice weird and wonderful things outside as we drive. We laugh a lot. I’m soaking up every minute with her before she leaves on this grand adventure that I’m helping her imagine into being.



