When I was a junior in high school, I cared more about my perm (it was the 80s) and my boyfriend than I did about my grades and college entrance exams. I chose a college, but, now that I think about it, I don’t know why I chose the one I did. I loved my college experience, and I received a great education. However, I didn’t have a plan. I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Okay. This one will work.”
When my son entered his junior year, I viewed it as a do-over, even though I didn’t admit that to myself or my family. My kids would take a thoughtful approach to choosing the university that would propel them into their careers. I could see it. My son and I would walk hand-in-hand into this college-going process. As a team, we would identify the best school for the field he wanted to study, learn the individual college requirements, and prepare for the ACT and SAT. Man, I thought to myself, he is so lucky to have me.
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In the end, my son found a school he loved, and while I anticipated learning a lot about preparing for and getting into college, what I really learned was much different.
Discovering the college search is about the student, not the mother
At the beginning of my son’s college search, I found a Facebook group for parents of college-bound students. I found out what questions to ask on college tours, where to find scholarships, and whether to hire a tutor to help prepare for the entrance exams.
There was also a lot of bragging masked as anxiety over a son or daughter’s future. There were many posts along the lines of: “My son received a 32 on the ACT. He is so disappointed. Should he take it again?” Cue my eye rolls. The highest possible score on the ACT is 36. There were also a lot of good tips I passed on to my son. After a while, however, I began to feel the mood in the room change whenever I said, “I was reading on that Facebook page that…”
Finally, one evening, after my son had taken his second ACT, he came into my room and sat in the chair beside my bed. He sat up straight, put his hands on his lap, and said, “Mom, I need to talk to you about something. Every time you mention that Facebook page, it makes my stomach hurt. It is stressing me out more than I already am. I need you to back off a little.”
I stared back at him. I didn’t know if I should cry because I had piled more stress onto him or congratulate myself on my effectiveness at teaching him how to set boundaries. I didn’t do either. I rallied, and said, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to stress you out more. I appreciate you telling me how you are feeling.”
I backed off, but then we both fell in love with the University of Missouri -- home to one of the country’s best journalism schools. The campus was beautiful with its own street of coffee shops and restaurants that reminded me of UNC’s Franklin Street. And the J-school, as they call it. The students and faculty promised real-world broadcast journalism experience, a city-wide newspaper, a radio station, and podcasts. I could not imagine that he would choose any other school. How could he?
When we started the process, my son said he wanted to major in journalism and international studies. As we visited more colleges and universities, he became less interested in pursuing journalism and less interested in the school I had my heart set on. It didn’t matter; I was too busy playing his future out like a movie in my head. The day after graduation he would travel to the Middle East as an on-the-ground reporter and videographer for a new, edgy online news channel.
Turns out, he wasn’t playing the same movie.
When he and his father just happened to drive through Furman University in South Carolina, they returned home with an announcement. My son found his school. I shook my head and said, “What? I mean, what?” I was standing in the kitchen, and I felt like a balloon that had just been pricked by a pin.
It didn’t take long before I realized what you may have already determined. I was making his college search about me. Now in my mid-fifties, I sometimes wish for a do-over. I know what I would do differently and the professional path I would take. It’s too late, yes, but can’t I do it all over through my son? No, I can’t, and I really don’t want to.
This is his journey and his decision. I am proud of him for setting boundaries and drowning out the noise to identify what works best for him. I changed my role in his college search. I quit visiting the Facebook page, and I embraced the Paladins.
I did indeed learn a lot about the college-going experience. The most important lesson, however, is that it is time to let go with love, letting him find his own path.
Mindy is a public relations consultant, wife, and mother to Elias and Gabriel. She is also the proud human to four cats Henry, Rory, Cookie and Niki.