The evening before my son’s freshman orientation, I found myself reminiscing while watching a classic film, one that shaped my teenage years. It took me back to my own high school days, where I vividly remember being a wide-eyed freshman on the cusp of my school’s senior prom. My best friend and I, not invited to the dance, spent our day at the movies instead. The joy I felt back then is still with me, especially my admiration for the character Jake Ryan.
Now, three decades later, I am the parent of a 14-year-old boy stepping into the ninth grade. What once filled me with happiness now brings a wave of anxiety. I can’t help but wonder: Will he sneak out, attend wild parties, or experiment before he’s ready? Not if I can help it!
The following day, as I navigated the halls of his expansive high school, nostalgia washed over me. I recalled my own trepidation on my first visit, overwhelmed by the sheer size and distance between classes. Would I make it to my classes on time? Would I remember my locker combination? The fear of encountering upperclassmen was palpable—where would I sit at lunch?
My son’s school dwarfs mine, with nearly 800 freshmen compared to my graduating class of 344. I didn’t have a computer during my schooling, while he has access to technology I could only dream of. Textbooks were my constant companions, yet he carries none. The library, stark and uninviting in comparison to my memory, offers a different atmosphere. Lunchtime options have transformed into a food court, a far cry from our limited choices.
Everything has changed, yet some things remain the same.
As I observed the other freshmen, I could read the mixture of eagerness and apprehension on their faces. They hovered near their parents, seeking reassurance but careful not to appear too dependent. I remember feeling that way myself; high school was the time I began to distance myself from my own parents, convinced I knew everything. I see now how mistaken I was.
The cliques were evident in the students’ attire. Boys in khaki shorts and polos smiled at the girls, while others in gym shorts and T-shirts exchanged high-fives. Some students wore board shorts, exuding a laid-back vibe, while a few in jeans and button-downs seemed eager, distracted by their phones. Couples walked hand in hand, and the girls appeared more self-assured than I remember.
There were posters encouraging students to sign up for senior pictures, and the student council was actively recruiting new members. The cheerleaders were selling spirit wear, and for a moment, I was transported back to the mid-1980s, surrounded by laughter and the familiar scents of school life. I could almost hear the soundtrack of The Breakfast Club echoing in my mind.
As my son embarks on this new chapter, he feels the weight of the heightened expectations that accompany high school. He’s not only navigating academics but is also preparing to be a high school athlete—a runner. This is fitting as he embarks on his own marathon of experiences: early morning practices, late-night study sessions, and the social dynamics of dating, Homecoming, and parties. With each step, he’ll gain confidence and independence, slowly moving away from my guidance.
I want him to succeed, but the thought of him crossing that finish line and leaving me behind is bittersweet. It brings to mind that iconic line from a beloved song: “Don’t you forget about me…”
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In summary, as my son embarks on this pivotal journey into high school, I am flooded with memories of my own experiences. While the landscape may have changed dramatically, the feelings of excitement and nervousness remain the same. I hope he cherishes these moments and carries them forward into his future.