First Day of School

This afternoon, I found myself climbing flights and flights of stairs in a subway station, struggling up from the underground “R” line to the above-ground “F” line. Our ride included the highest station in the NYC Subway system, so it’s not surprising so many stairs were involved. It probably wouldn’t have been so strenuous but for the 24-pound child in one arm, the stroller and essentials bag in the other, and the 50-pound 4-year-old ambling along next to me. Slowly but surely, as I walked, Rory would begin slipping down until he was below my hip, and I was forced to stop and switch him from one arm to another, alternating with the umbrella stroller and bag. Reaching the platform meant a momentary respite, until it was time to take the whole parade onto the train. Such was my experience of being a mother of young children today.

I took the day off from work today not to haul kids up stairs, but for a very special reason. Today was Callum’s first day of pre-kindergarten. Unlike in many other school systems, in NYC there’s free, public, “universal”* pre-kindergarten for 4-year-olds, so the school he will attend this year could be the same one he attends until middle school. Essentially, Callum began an educational journey that won’t end until he graduates from high school at 18, or, hopefully, college. It’s a momentous thing.

We’re handing him over to the community, and he’ll spend as much time there, from now on, as he will at home (at least waking hours), on weekdays. He’ll have good teachers (this year’s seems like a good one!), and probably some mediocre ones. He’ll experience bullying and taunting; he’ll make close friendships; he’ll be challenged; he’ll be bored. We’ll do everything we can to smooth his path, but it’s not all up to us now. In not too many years, the opinions of his peers will outweigh those of his parents. The influence of the rest of the world will continue to grow.

It’s been said before that parenting is a continuous process of letting go, and I agree completely. The scenario I described above — in which Callum and Rory were entirely dependent on me to guide them through tunnels and up stairs, even hefting one of them — is today’s reality, but, with age, with our teaching, and with school, I won’t be needed in quite the same way for too much longer. I’m sad, and I’m happy. Mostly, I just want to acknowledge this important rite of passage. Happy first day of school, Callum. We love you always!

(* I put universal in quotes because it’s theoretically available to all, but, in practice, there are fewer spots than applicants.)