From kindergarten through 11th grade, my mother was deeply involved in my school’s Parent-Teacher Association (PTA), often serving as its president. While I fully appreciate her intentions, as I transitioned into motherhood, I made a conscious decision not to replicate her level of involvement.
My mother was a stay-at-home mom, and I was her only child, which meant she was always available to chaperone field trips or volunteer for events like bake sales. Her presence was ubiquitous; she would drop me off at school and then pop up throughout the day, offering her help.
This didn’t bother me until fifth grade when some classmates accused me of receiving special treatment because of her constant presence. A group of girls suggested that my role as the lead in the class play was due to my mom’s frequent volunteering rather than my own talent. It hurt, and I carried that feeling of inadequacy with me for years.
Throughout junior high, I felt resentment but couldn’t articulate why. I knew my mom was trying to help me get the best education possible, yet I wished she could have done so without being in the spotlight. I wanted to experience high school like any other student—without the anxiety of running into her during lunch or worrying about teachers reporting my absences to her (yes, that happened).
While I appreciated her efforts, like when she helped reinstate my favorite history teacher who had been unfairly dismissed, I often felt caught in the crossfire of her battles with school administration. It was this experience that ultimately made her step back, and it solidified my commitment to approach my own parenting differently.
As my son approaches school age, I find myself reflecting on how involved I want to be in his educational journey. Working from home allows me the flexibility to volunteer for class trips or contribute baked goods for fundraisers. However, I plan to do something my mother never did—I will actively check in with my son to gauge how he feels about my presence in his school life.
Children can be tricky, and they often hold back their true feelings, so I’ll be observant for signs that he might prefer a bit more space. My parents didn’t ask my opinion on their involvement until I was an adult, and by then, it was too late to change the dynamics.
I wholeheartedly believe in being involved in my son’s education—there’s no question about that. I’ll always be available if he faces challenges and will ensure that teachers know I’m an engaged parent. However, I also recognize the importance of him developing his own identity in school. I don’t need to attend every PTA meeting or accompany him on every field trip. I won’t run for a board position in the PTA; that’s just not for me. Instead, I’ll make it clear that I’m available if needed.
I don’t want my identity as a parent to be inextricably linked to my son’s school life. I want him to be known for who he is, not merely as “the kid whose mom is always around,” unless he desires my involvement. While I cherish the dedication my mother showed, I aim to be a supportive figure in his life without overshadowing his experiences. I want him to know that I will always be his biggest advocate, but he should also feel empowered to set boundaries regarding my level of involvement in his school activities.
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Summary
In this article, the author reflects on the challenges of having a highly involved parent during their school years and the decision to adopt a different approach as a mother. While recognizing the importance of parental engagement, the author emphasizes the need to respect their child’s autonomy and feelings about their involvement in school life.