Semester's Worth of Papers

Day 311: Semester's Worth of Papers

I generally try to refrain from bragging about my children. Bragging about your children awakens unpleasant feelings in the listener, ranging from boredom (amongst the childless) to anxiety (for those with children or grandchildren). My swings between anxiety about their well-being and pride in their accomplishments - as frequent and dramatic as weather changes on a San Francisco summer day - make it next to impossible for me to speak a word of praise anyway. By the time the praise is uttered, I've become convinced that one or the other will end up homeless, jobless, or a permanent resident of my basement. Also, they don't like for me to talk about them, positive or negative, brag or worry. It's all just plain embarrassing.

Today, I'm breaking my resolution because - YAY - Sam's junior year winter finals are over, and he did well! I won't go into detail (embarrassing! anxiety-producing!) but I will just mention that he got 101% on his science final, even though there was no extra credit on the exam. I'm even prouder because he was struggling a little bit with the concepts earlier this semester. Perseverance pays off.

The reason this all rates a day for the stuff project is not just the six-inch stack of exams, study sheets, xeroxed articles and worksheets that I threw in the recycling this morning. It's that junior year is such a terrible, awful, stressful, mindboggling year. The pressure cooker of having all your work reviewed and judged by unknown bodies - college admissions offices - adds that modicum of unbearability to all your efforts junior year. And the consequences seem so profound: Harvard versus community college, a career at McDonald's versus a career in a law firm. Of course, it's not really as dramatic as that, but it feels that way. At no other point in your life is all your work put forward for a judgment that will have long-reaching consequences. It's a crazy system, and it's a wonder the kids survive it with as much grace as they do.

So, good riddance junior year winter finals! One more semester of pain and suffering. Then college selection. Then college, a place where education is its own reward. Or so one hopes.

Good job, son.