During a recent college visit, we attended a presentation by an admissions officer who emphasized the remarkable diversity among students at the institution. This variety of backgrounds and interests fosters an environment where students inspire each other to excel. Throughout the visit, I found myself repeatedly encouraging (or perhaps pestering) my daughter to embrace the myriad opportunities that college has to offer.
She is particularly interested in small liberal arts colleges, much like the one I attended. I often sing their praises, much to her chagrin. “Mom,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I don’t need a sales pitch on liberal arts schools.”
I was eager for her to immerse herself in experiences like lazy afternoons on the lawn, reading under trees, engaging in spirited late-night discussions, or enjoying folk music. As we strolled through the campus and peeked into dormitories, I couldn’t resist pointing out flyers for glee clubs and dance competitions—activities I knew she would relish but simply doesn’t have time for in high school, along with a plethora of liberal political organizations that her own school lacks.
“Yes, Mom, I see,” she said, gently pushing my hand away from yet another flyer while the tour guide continued speaking.
In truth, my concern for what she engages in during her college years is minimal. She is a proactive individual with strong values, and I am confident she will seize outstanding opportunities wherever she goes. My feelings, however, are more about my own nostalgia—longing for the days when I had such choices available to me, surrounded by an abundance of options, each calling out, “Choose me! Choose me!”
After the tour, we hurried home for my first choir rehearsal. The car ride was filled with chatter—boosted by our favorite Broadway songs—about her excitement for the school’s distinguished guest speakers, study abroad programs, and the vibrant student community. Upon entering the choir room, I was met with a wave of culture shock—an assembly of silver hair, sweater sets, and polyester pants. I couldn’t help but think: Where were the youthful ideas, the optimism, the lively exchanges? Oh, right! That was my daughter’s new reality, not mine.
As we began to sing, the chatter resumed between phrases. I discovered that the woman beside me taught music at a nearby Christian school, showcasing the array of ideas and impressive skills present in our group.
However, I quickly realized that my time away from consistent choral singing would require some adjustment. I hadn’t participated in a choir since my high school days. While the harmonies enveloped me, I struggled to keep pace with the music. My previous experience of never missing a day of choir for eight years felt distant, and the complexities of syncopated rhythms and changing time signatures were as bewildering as advanced math.
After an hour, my eyes grew weary from trying to read the music through my contacts, forcing me to squint and hold the sheet farther away until I thought my arms would give out. I leaned closer to the singer on my right to catch her pitch.
As the evening progressed, I felt increasingly removed from my college days, when I maximized my course load with philosophy, English, French, musical theater, dance, and just enough math and science to earn my degree. I aspired to major in “Life,” seeking knowledge and skills, ultimately becoming a versatile individual who spent years tutoring and assisting fellow students.
Reflecting on my current life, it’s not so different from my college experience. As a freelance writer and editor, I’m constantly exploring diverse topics and learning from various clients. Occasionally, I teach writing and have directed, choreographed, and acted in community theater. I’m expanding my fitness instruction skills beyond yoga to include senior aerobics and Zumba, and I’ve also been involved in political activism. I’m still majoring in Life, and I’ll always be a Jane-of-all-trades. By the end of the season, I even managed to secure a small solo in the choir performance. Perhaps college is about discovering your passions, while adulthood is about remembering to seek out opportunities—or even creating them yourself.
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Summary
This reflection highlights the author’s journey of letting go of the desire to vicariously relive her college experiences through her daughter. It emphasizes the importance of pursuing one’s own passions and opportunities, while recognizing that both the parent and child are on distinct yet parallel paths of growth and exploration.
Keyphrase: College experiences and personal growth
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