What do a wig, a cheese grater and a knife sharpener have in common?
Well, if you’re a parent of a Grade 12 student, you might know that those items — plus a cardboard crown from Burger King — are key props for the Hamlet and Laertes duel being videotaped the night before this critical, end-of-year English project is due.
Did mom come up with those three items? Yes, she did, saving the day.
Were there any thanks given for this generous offering of support? Ha!
Did the cheese grater and knife sharpener look like swords? Not really, although the wig did give the football lineman playing Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother, a certain stylish air.
Such last-minute saves are the stuff of parenting, I've found over two overlapping public school careers for two sons over 15 years — and they will be missed, despite the stress they cause.
While School District 43 valedictorians will be summing up their past education as well as their hopes and dreams for graduates attending grad ceremonies, what words of inspiration will parents hear?
How do we get over the feeling of loss and uncertainty as our role changes from indispensable to superfluous (except as provider of room and board) while your once-toddling children take their now giant steps onto the world’s stage?
We don’t, I’ve been told. We just take our cue and exit the theatre until our next curtain call.
For this particular son, my job as chief advice provider, project co-ordinator and pit crew member became redundant at the beginning of his graduating year, when he opted to take online courses for a number of his academics, thus removing his need to get to class by 8:35 a.m.
That’s exactly when he began to take charge of his own education and I became like Polonius, father of Ophelia and Laertes, little more than a nagger (e.g. "How many units of math do you still need to do before you finish Grade 12 calculus?").
To my son’s Hamlet, I was naught but a “rash and intruding fool.”
There were benefits, however, as I faced less stress on a daily basis (but more anxiety overall).
In the dark, no longer called upon for advice or help, I had to trust that my son knew what he was doing and everything would be alright in the end.
Fast forward to the weekend before the Hamlet project is due...
• 9 a.m. Sunday — the day before project is due: “If your brother is going to help you videotape this thing, you’d better get him up now.”
• 6:30 p.m. Sunday: More queries, entreaties, no video action taken. I am greeted with a stoney gaze, leading me to give up and go to the driving range to hit some balls.
The next morning I hear the Hamlet-Laertes duel video was completed at 4 a.m., in time for morning English class and, surprisingly, it wasn’t half bad, although of course, no mention of role as key prop provider.
In parenting, there is no end game. It’s all process: waiting, hoping, consoling, supporting and, in the end, we are just the guides on the side, as the educators call themselves these days.
We are not key actors in our child’s drama as they become adults, no matter how much we would wish it otherwise.
Senior reporter Diane Strandberg writes about education for The Tri-City News.
