Major (In)Decisions

by Judy Merrill Larsen

You know, when I think about it, I have no clue what most jobs entail. I mean, okay, a heart surgeon probably operates on hearts (I do watch Grey's Anatomy after all.). I'd guess a ditch digger spends most of his or her time digging ditches.

When I went to college, I quickly became an English major. It meant I could read books (one of my favorite things to do) and write (another favorite thing to do). I gave very little thought to what I "would do with it." Much to my father's dismay. I still have no real idea what an English major does . . . for a living wage, anyway.

Near the end of my junior year, I called my folks and braced myself. I'd decided to double major by also getting a degree in secondary education. I worried that they'd be upset that it was going to take an extra semester and summer school. They were so thrilled that I'd be employable that the extra money never mattered. Teaching is sorta like heart surgery in that most people have a general sense for what the job entails (until you're actually in the classroom and facing those kids for the first time. Then you think, holy moly, what did I get myself into?).

This is on my mind because my younger son recently informed me that he's probably changing his major and he wondered what he should switch to. And even though I sent him an e-mail full of suggestions (mostly culled from his college's website of "available majors"), I have no idea what to suggest for him and he's at somewhat of a loss too.

Because, other than some very specific majors, we have no real sense of what jobs any given major will lead to. I mean, take "Business" for example. What does that mean? (Other, of course, something I'd have no interest in.) Or Poli Sci? (I mean he's never going to run for office.) Geography?

And even more confusing, when he thinks of a job he might want, no specific major screams out at us. Wouldn't it be nice to go back to the days of education for education's sake? When the idea was to learn things, to broaden your mind, and become a thoughtful thinker? Then, you would go and apply for a job and simply having the diploma was what mattered.

But no, now kids practically are supposed to decide in middle school. And start preparing right then and there. Am I the only one who thinks it's a little depressing that high school kids have to use their summers to pad their resumes rather than work on their tans? (Hmm, I can hear you muttering, Well, Miss-Not-Mother-of-the-Year, maybe your son wouldn't be in this quandry if he'd done something other than work at pizza parlors all through high school.)

But I'm still a big believer in kids being kids. In kids having enough free time to get bored and figure out what to do about it (hopefully without involving drugs and alcohol. Oh, and sex.).

Is it just me? And my sweet, hardworking, but slightly unfocused kid?

We're leaning to general business, but not with much excitement. And that makes me sad.

Ideas, anyone? Anybody out there have the answer? Anyone? Bueller?

What a Week

by Jenny Gardiner

Sometimes as a parent of teens you have to just thrust the white flag of surrender as high up as you can get it, and give in to everything. And other times you just have to let the steamroller crush you, crush your willpower, crush your stamina, sometimes even crush your hope (but just don't let it stay crushed).

That was the kind of week we had in my town. Last week we'd been dealing with our youngest struggling with a tough transition to a new school. Nothing was clicking and we watched a happy, cheerful, very agreeable kid become sullen and obstinate in the blink of an eye. Which was frustrating, because you hear stories of kids who reach these crossroads moments in their lives, when something changes and it's something that person simply does not cope well with. And they change, often for the worse.

Over the weekend I think a full moon settled over this part of Virginia. Labor Day weekend, kids intent on a last hurrah before school started (except that for most kids here, school had already begun). A big college football game supercharged the atmosphere that day to begin with, and those teen revelers had to keep the momentum going at game's end.

For the younger teens? A night of egging houses, knocking down mailboxes, and just general mayhem that causes homeowners hassles and a bit of agita.

For the older teens? Milling about near the pool, kids hooking up in all sorts of places (rumors of a naked girl near the pool and another naked one in flagrante delicto in the pool (with, if rumor stands, a host of onlookers).


(In case you were wondering, it wasn't a kitty and a puppy in the pool...)

Did I mention that some of the teens broke into the pool--broke the fence down, broke into the pool house, stole all the beer and candy and snack food, partied all night poolside, trashed the place, and then denied it?

Now, we live in a small town. Everybody knows everybody. And I feel extremely fortunate that our oldest child is not even in town, and our other two were home with us that night, so we didn't have to worry whether our kids were either involved or on the periphery of the events that unfolded. But we know plenty of kids whose names have been bandied about as participants or at least onlookers. And a few parents who are mortified and mad as hell at their teens' abysmal judgment.

Monday at the pool saw a revolving door of cops questioning kids. A lot of sober-faced kids coming to reckoning with their idiotic wilding behavior. And no doubt a lot of regrets. Of course for a few of these kids, regrets won't count. Rather they'll face breaking and entering, vandalism and theft charges. They'll lose their spots on their sports teams and positions of leadership at their schools. And deservedly so, though guess what? This will only provide them with far more idle time in which to wreak havoc upon things.

Of course the pool on Monday was chock full of folks with immense outrage, and rightly so. And plenty of finger-pointing to go around. there were a couple of girls with dreadfully tarnished reputations (one of whom apparently was not naked as reported, but had been at the wrong place at the wrong time making out with the wrong guy and got pulled into the whole story because of her proximity to it. The other girl? I hear she's denied it, though apparently it was caught on security cameras. Maybe she can see herself on YouTube...

We took away plenty of lessons to harp on with our kids: guilt by association can be just as damaging as guilt itself. Just because you say you didn't commit the act doesn't mean people are going to believe that, and when rumors take on a life of their own, it's hard to dissipate them. A lesson you can repeat ad nauseum, but until they witness it in action, is meaningless. So perhaps those of us who were merely sideline witnesses owe a debt of thanks to the boneheads who committed the offenses.

And then it all got put into perspective Tuesday morning with a phone call my daughter received first thing. Some girl at her high school killed herself over the weekend. Reports are the usual teen angst was to blame: she'd broken up with her boyfriend, had a fight with her parents. And the rest, sadly, is irrevocable history.

And this morning, an obituary for a baby born several months ago to a teenaged girl whose brother played on a soccer team with our son. He apparently died from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Such hard and cruel life lessons for someone who is still a child.

Those teen years are tough. Tough on everyone. Tough on the teens, tough on the witnesses, even, and sometimes tougher still on the parents. No one comes out of the teen years unscathed. But it does make one so grateful for small mercies, so thankful when things go right. Because sometimes it can go so horribly wrong.

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

by Jenny Gardiner

Thirty one years ago this summer, I had my heart broken for the first time. I was in high school, and my boyfriend, my first love, departed for college, leaving me behind to wallow in tears as he launched into a new life in a new town, with new friends, worse yet, new girlfriends, and no me.

I remember with clarity the pain and the tears and the fact that there was no way to get out of it: I had to forge through the hurt and become a new version of me, a little tougher, a little more mature, having been fortunate to have had such a wonderful relationship and trying not to be bitter about being left in the dust.

My boyfriend at the time did the right thing in breaking up with me---it wouldn't have been fair for him to have embarked on this new life with baggage left behind. It didn't make it any easier knowing that, though.

I'm feeling the heartache once again. Only this time it's vicariously through my own teenaged daughter, whose unexpected vacation friendship with an adorable young man blossomed into so much more. And because of the late nature of the relationship, from its inception it's been a countdown of sorts until he departed for his college, far away from here.

They've made a different choice---they are going to try to maintain the relationship, a tact made easier with text messaging, IM'ing, and webcams. I wrestle with whether this is a good idea for either of them, but I respect them for whatever decision they make, and hope it is for the best and holds neither of them back.

I try to latch onto hopeful stories about relationships that somehow last through lengthy separations, knowing the odds are against them remaining together. I was heartened recently to hear that a friend's son, who dated the same girl in high school and part of college, then broke up, reunited with her a few years out of college, promptly got engaged, and will be married soon. My husband's best friend's mother was widowed unexpectedly a decade ago, and is now betrothed to her high school sweetheart. These things can happen, I tell my daughter, hoping not to dash her hopes.

More than likely they'll end up like me and my old boyfriend. Once I graduated from college we went out on a date. But that magic just wasn't there for me any more. I'd grown and changed and wasn't interested in reviving what had been.

Ironically, after all of these years, he and I have become friends again. I guess being an author and having a name somewhat in the spotlight enables long-lost friends to find one easier, and through a series of funny circumstances he got in touch with me a few months ago.

I'd like to tell my daughter that maybe some day, if she and her boyfriend don't make it through this transition, perhaps they can become friends again. Maybe even more. I actually find it comforting to have re-befriended someone with whom I was so linked in my past. We exchange stories about our kids, our lives, our careers. We'll never be what we were, but a friendship mellowed with age is often a much nicer outcome than it otherwise could have been.

I know my girl has got a lot of heartache to come. This is compounded with the fact that she's a junior, and we're not so inclined to send her off to visit him at college at that age. But in the meantime, I'll hold onto the romanticism of their long-distance young love. And if nothing else, hope for them both a friendship that will withstand the test of time.