A Mother's Perspective

As My Michelle sets off for her final year at Keene State College, my thoughts turn to the past. Prompted by an assignment she has been given that is due on the first day of class, I write my own vignette about Michelle's first journey off to college.


A mother's perspective: Firsts.

 We had done other "firsts" before: first day of preschool. First school bus ride to Charlotte Ave Elementary School. First day of dance class. First bat-mitzvah party. First day of USY overnight camp. First day at Nashua High.
But this was the first dorm  move in day 
I fought back my own memories of my 1ST day of college. I tried to keep from comparing it to move in day of her older brother. This was HER day. But here we were, big brother, Mom, and Michelle dutifully toting the items to her room that would serve her creature comforts for her first year of dorm life.

We had always been like the llama in Dr Doolittle . A "push-me/pull-me"relationship where she was pointed in the opposite direction from me. Always pulling, not allowing me to lead. Yet we were connected, and I felt her need to remain a part of me. 
" I can do it myself, Mom!" 
"let me show you first, child."
So different from me in my naivety. So like me in my desire to show my mom that I could make it in the world without her.

We had done all the college tours. I, in the role of good mother, tried to take her to a variety of campuses. We toured Johnson and Whales in providence rhode island. We had a lovely trip to Roger Williams university. We chose the coldest day of the year to walk around UMass Amherst. We toured UNH. 

 The big campuses were beautiful. You could feel college life pulsating around you. Dreams and hopes, energy and youth vibrated from every building.   I wanted her to see what money could buy. I wanted her to know that her education was important and I, as her parent, was encouraging her to make her own choice. After each visit I would ask her if it felt right. Are these the kind of people you wish to associate with? Money can buy anything in life, but is that the life you want to live?
 I had told her she owed it to herself and to me as a new Hampshire resident to visit the state's only state college. We had nothing to lose, and there was always a nice breakfast offering at these events.  Michelle did not see the point of even visiting the one place she knew she would not attend.  "There's nothing there for me. I want to go to a university with a true college experience" was her battle cry.
We finally took the obligatory tour of KSC, but at Keene, my petulant daughter kept an attitude of distant skepticism  Our first step on campus was greeted by a woman who, based on her appearance, we guessed to be a professor. She smiled and offered direction and wished us a good day. Hmm, friendly people here. The tour of the campus yielded an atmosphere only found in new Hampshire. The late winter day was cold, the sun was warm. The buildings were modern, the people were down to earth. But it was the presentation of the academics of the college that caught Michelle's attention. The program appealed to her. She related to the course offerings and the philosophy of the college's education plan. 
"I wasn't supposed to like it here" she announced. 
And I smiled and felt the relief only a mother can feel when she knows her child has found the place to take her first steps into this big scary world.

We shopped. I tried to think of everything that would keep my baby girl comfortable. Towels and pillows, lamps and desk accessories, posters, shower caddy, trash basket, snacks,  silverware, pencil sharpener, laptop...the list danced before my eyes. It kept me up at night. I didn't want to forget anything. I wanted her to be comfortable.

So we schlepped it all into her dorm room at Keddy Hall. As a mother, I was calmed by this building. It was small. Her first experience away from home would not be in one of those crazy dorms. I noted the security of the building and her room. Locks, fire extinguishers. Her physical safety could be assured. 

 We met her roommate and her family. I liked them. Her roommates Mom gave the girls gifts. I sensed the push-me/pull-me relationship that they too shared and I prayed these girls would find their own place in the world. We discussed furniture arrangement and poster  placement. We set up her laundry hamper. We stowed her snacks. I made her bed and hid our book in the bed caddy. Her physical comfort was assured.

I wanted her to choreograph her own dance as she journeyed forward into life. I wanted the steps to hold echoes of her past only going forward while remembering the steps she had already traveled

What was next? There was supposed to be a meeting for these new honor society students. Where was it to be held? I had not paid attention to the instructions when we first entered. I was too concerned with Michelle's physical safety and comfort. I suppose I already expected that Michelle would take responsibility for the rest. But we did not know where to go for that meeting. Where had everyone disappeared to? Why did they all know where to go, but we did not? We went outside. No one was around. We walked down the street, rushing now, searching for where we were supposed to be.
 We asked a man in a kitchen uniform if he knew anything about the meeting. Yes, he told us, there would be a bar-b-q later for the new dorm students.  We were still unsure of where Michelle should be at that moment. We went back to Keddy Hall hoping to find someone to direct us. We found another mother who pointed the way. The students were in a room down the hall. The meeting had already started which meant Michelle would have to walk into this room with everyone watching her. No graceful,
inconspicuous entrance here!
The tears began. This was suddenly too much to handle. It was all too new! Uncertainty crept in. The desire to go home cried out. 
There were never tears at any of the other firsts. Through my own tears I hugged her and pushed her away at the same time. I hoped my words would soothe her. I whispered in her ear "You can do this, Michelle. You can walk into that room. You will find your place."