Read an Excerpt
I'll Miss You Too
The Off-to-College Guide for Parents and Students
By Margo Ewing Woodacre, Steffany Bane Carey Sourcebooks, Inc.
Copyright © 2015 Margo Ewing Woodacre and Steffany Bane Carey
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4926-1568-2
CHAPTER 1
The High School Senior Year
The Revolving Door
Entering the senior year of high school is like moving through a revolving door: attention needs to be focused on making a good exit! The senior year calls for careful planning for that exit, whether it be to college or to a job. Either way, it is a year full of activities that focus on the child's future. If the goal is college, much of the school year revolves around choosing and getting into a college.
It is also a year for those parents facing an imminent empty nest to reflect upon the past and think about their future. Just as high school seniors remind themselves, "this is the last game, the last test, the last dance, the last play," the parents begin to realize that they too will be involved in a series of "lasts." Questions suddenly enter their minds: "What's next?" "What will be my future role as a parent?" "How can I handle this?"
Mom
The term "empty nest" really hit home for me during my daughter's high school senior year.
The first college night at the high school was overwhelming to us when we learned about all the decisions we'd soon have to make about final SAT schedules, applications, essays, and college interviews. It brought back memories of my own high school senior year. I remembered how taking the SATs was nerve-racking, but it started to become clear to me that the pressures on today's student to get into college are much heavier than in my years. The demand for robust SAT scores certainly seemed more of a factor now than it did twenty years ago. Another new factor was the abundance of choice! If my memory had it right, my friends and I applied to maybe two or three colleges, which, in most cases, were local. The college counselor, on this evening, recommended applying to many schools.
I glanced around the band room to see if the other parents appeared as surprised and overwhelmed as I was. I felt somewhat relieved as I heard some of their questions and concerns. I was not alone. We all seemed to want our children to follow the right course and, given their interests and capabilities, get into the best school for them.
As a congenital worrier, I left the meeting feeling a need to get started on what seemed a large list of college-related chores. I became torn between my good intention to hand over responsibility to Steffany and my worry-based, impatient need to jump in and help her get them done.
Fortunately, Steffany was somewhat diligent (with some coaxing) about meeting her responsibilities and deadlines. Others helped with this seemingly large task. Steff's high school counselor was very important in keeping her on her toes with the deadlines. Her dad helped her with applications and took her on some of the college visits. My husband, her stepfather, supported Steffany by helping proofread her essays.
I felt it important to support my daughter's choice of schools. As matters developed, I was surprised but pleased to see that she seemed to have definite opinions about where she wanted to go and what she wanted to study. In contrast, I remembered making my personal choice of colleges according to my then-boyfriend's choice. My choice turned out to be the right school for me, but I was proud that Steff seemed to be making her decisions for herself. I felt that this truly was a healthy sign of independence.
I must admit that the location of the school that she chose bothered me because I held hopes that she would not be far away. My view was that a reasonable car ride from home was okay, but an airplane ride seemed too far. Although I struggled silently with this, I did not mention it to Steff and continued to show my support for her choice.
According to comments from many college counselors, some parents often want to make the college decision for their child. Unfortunately, some parents favor schools connected with prestige or family tradition. Parents need to be careful in this regard. Obviously, their input is important, but it should be based primarily on consideration for the student's aspirations. When undue pressure is put on the child to get into their parents' or grandparents' alma mater, the child can feel forced and unhappy. As one counselor from a Maryland private school advised:
The choice should not be what college sticker a parent wants on the car, but what college is a good fit for the child.
With the costs of tuition climbing so high, the family financial situation is becoming a bigger issue in the selection of a college. Often, the child's choice does not fit the financial capabilities of the family. With financial aid widely available, however, it is likely that financial matters can be worked out. Also, keep in mind the price tag given to you by the school does not take the student's financial aid package into account. In the end, it's possible that the expensive school will end up costing less than the school with the cheaper price tag. For whatever reasons a college is chosen, it is imperative that the child feel good about it.
Once Steffany's applications were sent in, we began the anxious wait for responses. For some of her friends, acceptances arrived early. The word would come: "So-and-so got accepted." These announcements placed more pressure on us. Steffany had applied for early acceptance; she knew with certainty which college she wanted and had applied to second choices only at the suggestion of her counselor. This approach had its benefits, but it also had its risks. In Steffany's mind, there was only one college for her, and if she were accepted there, her enthusiasm for college would be sky-high. My unspoken fear was that her first-choice college might not select her.
We waited for the mail like we were waiting for a lucky lotto number. We had been told that acceptances would be in bulkier envelopes. One day, a thin envelope arrived from her chosen college. I was traveling and intuitively called home. On the other end was a tearful, depressed daughter who felt that her world had ended. Steffany had been deferred. At that moment, she could not distinguish between deferred and rejected. She clearly needed a shoulder to cry on. A thousand miles from home, how helpless I felt!
The universe smiled on Steffany, however, when, during the following month, our mail included a bulky envelope from college choice Number One. I remember pulling it from the mailbox and feeling my heart race. I nervously held it up to the light and attempted to read through the envelope. I did see the word "Congratulations!" and as a parent, I felt relieved and ecstatic. We had hit our lottery!
Throughout the senior year, it had been helpful to share feelings with other parents. At sporting and school events, we found ourselves talking about joys, fears, and the growing sense of sadness about the approaching transition. It was helpful for me to know that I was not alone with my feelings. I remember one mother telling me:
Each time I drive down the driveway at school, I am aware that I won't be doing this next year, and I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I have already planned an alternate driving route for the next year so I won't have to go by the school!
I also remember prom night, when parents gathered at each other's homes to take the last high school dance photos. As our well-coiffed, elegant, and handsomely dressed young people smiled for the cameras, we shook our heads in disbelief that this was yet another school last. We reminisced about the memories of our children's first dance at middle school and once again asked each other where the time had gone.
Senior year was filled with many emotions and culminated with graduation. For many parents and their children, graduation was an emotional experience. For months, we were wrapped up in the excitement leading up to the actual event. Suddenly, there we were, sitting at the final high school event. One teary-eyed father of an only child whispered to me as we watched our children receive their diplomas:
It seems like I have been sitting in this gym for five years cheering on Jim's teams. I'm excited for him, but I know I've become very attached to this era, and it saddens me that it's over.
For that parent and the rest of us, an era was over. We were now aware that the college era would provide its own mixture of feelings and, no doubt, challenges.
Steff
Finally, I'm a senior and among the oldest kids in the school! Even before I was a teenager, I dreamed of being a senior and ruling the school. When senior year arrived, I was ready for it. This meant senior privileges, my own parking spot, more free time, and not to forget, college was right around the corner. We all threw around the word "college" like it was no big deal, and we felt extremely cool saying it.
I found my long-term friends increasingly important to me as we went along with the flow of our last school year. We had had so many good times, and we cherished them. Now we sensed that our closeness could be ending.
College was becoming more of a reality than a fantasy because of the forms, essays, and everything that had to be done for applications. Although I had visited my favorite college choices, my mother and I were still making weekend trips to nearby colleges. During this period, my schedule was jam-packed with priorities involving schoolwork, sports, and applications. I felt I had never been faced with so many deadlines in my life.
I never realized how much preparation was needed to even apply to college. Standardized testing — my nemesis. I had never been a fan of bubble testing or any kind of computer that graded me. SAT prep courses were taken at school, and a bunch of my friends took classes after school as well. I'd see them carrying around these huge workbooks and reading materials. The whole idea freaked me out because 1) I had never excelled at timed, standardized tests, and 2) it was hard to imagine that a college could accept or deny me based on a random number.
I felt I was more a personality than a test score! I would much rather be interviewed by an admissions department. At the same time, I realized it might be a bit tiring for them to interview a twenty-five-thousand-student applicant pool. I couldn't bear the thought of going through it again. I did find out my first-choice school was coming to do interviews in my area, and I rushed to get my face seen and known. Some people work best behind a pencil, and others work best face to face.
The whole idea of going off to college was exciting: new places, new faces, choice of major, and a class schedule that I could select on my own — so much freedom! My friends and I would meet during our breaks at school and chat about how we were ready to graduate. By midyear, our familiar, robot-like schedules were becoming a bit boring, but we still felt comfortable and safe.
Over the past twelve years, I had grown up with the same people at the same school. While we always separated and did our own things in the summer, we would return in the fall to the same friends with new stories and experiences to share. It was exciting to hear what travels and stories accumulated over these long three months. After doing this for twelve years and knowing next year there was no school schedule to bring us back together, I started to sense that the life I was used to was about to change.
Students can react in different ways to their last year in high school. Some feel few emotional ties to their schools and are ecstatic at the prospect of leaving. However, along with most of my friends, I was starting to feel a bit melancholy about the approaching end.
I think I felt this first through my involvement in sports. While suiting up for my last basketball game, I realized that I would never again put on my high school jersey for a game. There were five seniors on our team, and we were all close. After our last game, there was complete silence on our bus ride home. This was when I lost it. My sports career as a senior was over. My senior teammates felt it too. The final basketball game was a catalyst for what became a downward spiral of worries. There were so many "what ifs" clouding my head: What if I don't find happiness out there? What if I don't get the opportunity to play team sports again? What if my friends move on and forget me? This was the first time I truly realized how important this passing phase of my life had been to me. I began to think about all my lasts — my last game, my last prom, my last performance, my last test, my last class — all the way up to my last day as a senior.
I also made myself focus on what was ahead. There was something both scary and soothing about the unknown. Although I must admit, constantly hanging over me was the fear of not getting accepted into my first choice or even any of my college choices. Each day, my heart pounded as I checked the mail. Knowing how eager Mom could be, I had asked her not to open any responses from colleges. One day, I returned home to find a thin envelope embossed with my favorite college logo. Aware of the bad reputation of small envelopes, I tore into it with shaking hands and read:
It is very difficult to get in through early application, and your application will be placed in blah blah blah ...
I only focused on the opening words; the rest of the letter was a blur. I had completely zoned out, because I was now an official basket case! I was devastated. Mom was away on business and not around to console me. She was the one I needed the most.
Hearing Mom's voice on the phone that night, I got emotional and sobbed like a baby. To me, my fear of not getting accepted had become a reality. Despite my parents assuring me that my chances were still good, I was deeply disappointed, somewhat embarrassed, and fell into a slump for the next week. I did not mention the letter to my friends.
As things turned out, I hadn't been rejected. That "blah blah blah" had actually read, "... you will be placed in regular admission." Within the next few weeks, I arrived home to find a thicker envelope from my favorite college. I opened the letter to find a congratulatory letter of acceptance. Mom put a baseball cap with the college logo on my head (somehow she knew what was in the letter), and I felt on top of the world. I had no idea of the emotional journey that lay ahead.
After our celebration, my efforts turned to getting ready for the next phase. Now I couldn't wait to head off to college. With my biggest fear removed, the road ahead seemed clear, and I felt ready for the challenge.
Here's a sample of our survey of parents and high school seniors. We separately asked parents and their son or daughter the following questions.
SURVEY 1
QUESTION:How prepared do you feel your child is to go off on his own?
DAD: Lord knows, I've tried! Honestly, I don't think he will make it. At home, he can't even get himself up for school in the morning.
QUESTION:How well prepared do you feel to be on your own?
SON: I'm ready! The only fear is that my dad will be on my case all the time.
SURVEY 2
QUESTION:How prepared do you feel your child is to go off on her own?
MOM: She is ready. She's happy and confident and very mature for her age. She will probably be everyone else's "mom" on campus!
QUESTION:How well prepared do you feel to be on your own?
DAUGHTER: Not sure if I'm ready. I've worked at the beach for a summer on my own, but going as far away as I am to school, I am beginning to feel scared.
Trap Doors
TIPS FROM MOM FOR PARENTS
* VALIDATE YOUR FEELINGS: Accept and respect your feelings during this stage of your life. Facing change is one of the biggest human fears. The "Launching of Children" phase is a major life transition, and feelings of apprehension on the part of all family members are normal. Be thankful to know that these feelings represent a positive attachment between parents and child.
* TALK ABOUT YOUR EMOTIONS: Share your experience with and get support from your partner, your family, or a friend who has been through or is going through this kind of a transition. You will not feel so alone with your feelings, and you might be able to help each other get through this experience.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from I'll Miss You Too by Margo Ewing Woodacre, Steffany Bane Carey. Copyright © 2015 Margo Ewing Woodacre and Steffany Bane Carey. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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