Tuesday night I attended college night at H’s school.  We feel fortunate that she is at a school with an incredible college counseling program.  Now that she’s in 11th grade, the “counseling” portion of it is beginning…with a vengeance.  She’s doing SAT tutoring, in preparation for her first test in December.  She went on a college trip through her school last summer, and visited nine colleges/universities in 4 days in Philadelphia and Washington, DC.  We are planning on visiting a few in March before our annual ski trip for spring break.

I know I didn’t do this kind of preparation when I was in school.  In fact, I don’t remember thinking about college until Christmas of my senior year.  One of my girlfriends and I decided we’d go to MTSU.   Then, the spring of that year she decided not to go to college.  So I decided to enroll at David Lipscomb College.  Two years later I wanted to major in communications, so I decided to transfer to the University of Tennessee.  *Note, “decided”…not in the vocabulary of today’s current high school students.  They actually have to apply, write essays, get recommendations, have 4.0 averages and take honors and AP classes, as well as do sports, volunteer, start clubs, write for the school newspaper, and God knows what else.  At Tuesday night’s college night, H received her Planning Handbook, a three ring binder chock full of 13 divided sections, from college search information, website access, testing, college visits, interviews, resumes, application process, essay writing, and financing.  On top of my daughter’s extremely demanding academic schedule, her extracurricular activities, and leadership roles, now she has more information to digest.  While the colleges I “decided” to go to were not on any lists of great schools, even though I graduated in the top 10% of my high school class, and graduated “with high honors” from UT, today I might not get in because my ACT score is well below the average for UT freshmen.

It makes my stomach hurt.

So, my mommy mode kicked in.  I have been on multiple college search websites, College Confidential, College Prowler, College Board, etc., trying to narrow down the lists of schools so that H can have a more manageable list.  Some stretch schools, some safety schools, and some in between.  I signed her up for the SAT in December, so she can take the ACT in the spring, and then decide which one she wants to concentrate on to retake next year.   H is my only child…I’m kind of a control freak…so it’s what I do.  But, Tuesday night, H’s counselors emphasized that we should be stepping back…letting our daughters do the research, fill out the forms, register for the tests. 

Step back.  Whew.  It makes perfect sense.  She has to learn to do these things on her own.  She already does a fabulous job in those things that I don’t get involved with,  so I know she can do it.  But when I start stepping back, what am I going to do with myself?  I am H’s mom.  It’s who I am.  It’s what I do.  I’ve cuddled, encouraged, kissed boo-boos, made lunches, cooked nutritious dinners (even learned to cook tofu when she became vegetarian),  comforted, cheered, driven around,  prayed with and for,  advised, worried, planned, shopped, and basically lived for her the last 17 years.   I’ve loved every minute of it. 

But I can’t go to college for her.  Hopefully all those things that have been so much a part of who I am will help her become who she is.  But she can’t become who she is unless I step back.  I will still encourage, cheer, and pray for her.  I will probably always worry about her.  Maybe I will advise her…if she asks.   It might be a little painful, but watching her become her own woman will be a magical thing.

Have you, like, noticed that there’s a new word that everyone, like, uses all the time? It’s everywhere, and I hate to admit it, but I even find myself using it. It’s pervasive…not only from teenagers, but on television, in the movies, even in books.

“Like as a quotative — has spread like wildfire, with no ethnic or social confines. Over the last 25 years, the use of like to report quoted speech has swept across the English-speaking world. Nowadays a stretch of conversation may sound like this one:

He was like, “Where do you wanna go?”

I was like, “I dunno.”

He was like, “Okay.”

I was like, “Where are we going?”

He was like, “Don’t worry about it.”

Within the US, it isn’t just white or middle-class speakers who use the like quotative. Regardless of ethnicity or social class, virtually every young person uses it at least some of the time. And it’s not just young people any more, as the following two examples show:

When they said no one could figure out the Holy Trinity, I was like, “Why not?”

It was like, “Arthur, the deal here is we’re gonna listen to you but I’m makin’ my own cartoon.”

The speaker in the first example is Pulitzer-Prize-winning playwright August Wilson, and the speaker in the second is filmmaker Robert Altman. Wilson was born in 1945, Altman twenty years earlier. (Wilson was quoted in an interview in the New Yorker, Altman in an article in the Sydney Morning Herald.)” See full article here.

The headmaster at H’s school, Ann Teaff, is on a mission to eliminate the use of like as a quotative, or at least reduce it, among the student body at her school. The following is an excerpt of an essay Teaff wrote last year, that was published in the Tennessean.

“Precise wording and beautiful language lay the groundwork for our country, and we still hold precious our forefathers’ words. Language has the power to change hearts, to end wars, to inspire, to challenge. Yet as adolescents increasingly use shortcuts to express themselves, it is at great cost to vocabulary and grammar.
I was surprised to learn that like has new place in the dictionary. A colleague recently showed me its placement in an elementary grammar textbook. Will students soon be contemplating how to fit like speak into a sentence diagram? Like is now acceptably used as an adverb (I, like, almost died!), as a quotative or shortcut introduction to a quotation (I said, like, no way!).
It can also be used to paraphrase a sentiment (I was, like, what was he thinking?) Most often, though, like is used as an interjection. Like has replaced “um” and “er” as a way of stalling while we prepare our thoughts.
Although some may consider like speak merely an annoying trend, I argue that its movement into mainstream Americana is cause for concern.
A Wall Street Journal suggested like speak makes language more colorful and fun. However, the reporter writes, “when you ‘fun-up’ language, you trivialize thinking, fueling the already unhelpful suspicion among young teens that someone who talks seriously is ipso facto boring.” How unfortunate to think that the eloquent speeches of Winston Churchill, John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan and others would, by that definition, be labeled “boring.””

I just wonder how my grandchildren, and their kids, will communicate in the future. With text messaging, instant messaging, and email, they barely ever have to write anything with a pen or pencil, they shorten their words and phrases to initials (OMG, LOL, ROFL, etc.), and now they’re inventing new uses for words that make no sense whatsoever. We don’t speak like the Quakers did anymore, but is “proper” English morphing into something we won’t understand in 50 years?

My daughter is entering high school next year. She’s been at the same school since kindergarten…9 years. It’s a wonderful school, and we have had an incredible experience here. It’s a private school in an urban setting, very diverse population, the academics are incredible, SAT scores high, college acceptance rates recognized nationally, etc. She decided last fall that she wanted to take a look at another well respected school here in town, an all-girl’s school. She’s very intrigued by the single sex aspect of the school. She toured and visited classes last fall with a couple of the high school students and fell in love with it. So we applied, thinking she’d still have several months to think about it and if she got in, would then make her choice.

It’s been an extremely difficult choice for her (and for us). She has a few very close friends at her current school who she will have to leave behind. She’s also leaving behind the opportunity to play varsity basketball in 9th grade, since her current school has a very small high school basketball team. She’ll have to try out for a much more competitive team at the new school.

When she got the acceptance letter, she was shocked to find out she only had 12 days to decide whether to go or stay. It’s been a very emotional, stressful week, as she weighed the pros and cons of making the change, in addition to a very full academic load and her athletic commitments. She made several phone calls, returned for a second “visit” at the new school, suffered a stress induced migraine (we think), begged J and I to make the decision for her, (which we did not do), and in the end, decided the only reason she had for staying was because it was familiar and her friends were there. She feels very lucky to have the chance to experience either school, but decided to think positive and make the leap. She’s had a few tearful conversations with her friends, made vows to stay in touch, but on the most part, she is excited, although not a little bit nervous.

There are those who believe in positive thinking, and there are those who may be more realistic. We’re in the positive thinking camp. If H thinks this is a positive change, and goes into it with that attitude, then I believe it will be. There may be disappointments along the way. Sure, there’s the chance she won’t make the basketball team the first year. That’s O.K., she is a very hard worker, and if she decides she wants it, she’ll work extra hard and try out again the next year. If her friends don’t stay in touch as much as she’d like, she will make new friends.

I appreciate the people we know who have supported H in this decision. The admissions director at our old school who shed a tear or two with me and assured me that H would be missed and that we were always welcome back. The parent’s of H’s friends who were sad she was leaving but understood that we made this decision based on what we felt was right for her. H’s friends who have promised that they will stay in touch.

Will things change? Sure they will. They will change whether she stays at the old school or not. I am so proud of her for making this decision. For taking a leap of faith to something she’s not familiar with. For taking a chance. If no one ever took chances, where would they be? There might be regrets. But for sure, there will be new experiences, new opportunities, and if she doesn’t try them she’ll never know what’s out there.

For those who have expressed negative opinions. That is your right. You have the right to any viewpoint you have, and decisions you make for your family. But this is our daughter, and our family, and we are making the choice we feel is right for us.