Last night I took my son Tommy to his high school's freshman orientation and hot dog roast. When returned home an hour later, I went into my bedroom, shut the door, and allowed myself a good cry. I don't usually react emotionally to the challenges Tommy has to face. I guess I am used to having him surprise me at how well he can handle difficult situations. Tommy has come such a long way in his development and becoming a high school student will be just another transition he will pass through. But I have to admit, this time, I am nervous.
First of all, the students at the freshman orientation were big! My son is a good size, but many of the boys surpassed him in height and weight. Many of the girls looked like they belonged on a college campuses. It seemed like nearly all of Tommy's peers had already shed the awkwardness of the middle school age. As I was looking around at all of these young adults I began to shudder at the thought of the size of the upperclassmen. All of these students will be passing through the corridors at the same time. Tommy will encounter them in the halls and in the cafeteria, before and after school, on the campus grounds at one point or another. What if he gets pushed and shoved? Will be able to fend for himself?
Fears such as these escalated the more I looked around the crowded halls at orientation. Students and their parents were gathered around tables, taking brochures about after school activities and buying sweatshirts with the school logo printed on the front. The marching band was playing music while students the color guard were twirling flags. Groups of friends walked around together, socializing with each other and pecking on their cellphones. It was loud and chaotic. I could feel my chest tighten as I wondered exactly how my son will fit into this environment. How is he going to communicate effectively with all of these people that he does not know, people who do not know him, people who do not understand who he is and what his challenges are. How will he fit in?
I remember Tommy's first day of school. It was May 13, 2003. He was three years and one day old. I was terrified when I put him on the bus. He screamed and cried. I knew I was making the right decision for him, sending him to a special education preschool class. Even though he was young, he needed to start learning his basic skills. It was a rocky start for sure, but with the patience and kindness of his teachers and his ability to adapt and learn, Tommy succeeded. Transitions became easier as the school years progressed. I learned how to prepare him for challenges he might face. We used pictures and social stories to help him understand what he had to do. Tommy always tried his best, with a bright smile on his face, and surpassed everyone's expectations.
During Tommy's elementary and middle school years I remained cognizant of his educational needs, but I was able to feel more comfortable and relaxed. I felt like I suppose other parents do, aware of how their children are doing but not overly worried about them. But that feeling of calm has ended, for now at least. The terror I felt when I watched the bus leave my house when Tommy was three has returned. Deep down I know that Tommy will do fine because he always has, but there will definitely be issues, and worries, and battles to fight and overcome in the high school years ahead. I know that Tommy is ready, but I am not sure if I am!
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