May 25: Middle Schooler, Son, "On My Son's Future"

You know, I've been focusing a lot on my daughter's impending graduation these last few weeks, while my son is also reaching a milestone in his education.  Next year, he will no longer be in elementary school.  He will be a middle schooler.  Sixth grade.  Things are about to get a little realer for him, as well.

My son has struggled a lot in school.  Every teacher he's had has said to us, "You know he's really smart," or some version of that.  He IS really smart.  He's also really stubborn and impulsive, which has gotten him into quite a bit of trouble over the years.  We've spent a lot of time talking to the principal and guidance counselors.

Now, I worry how he is going to do in his new school environment.  I worried with my daughter, too, when she moved to middle school.  However, those worries were not quite as severe.  My son is an individual, with very clear ideas of what he likes and dislikes.  He's sarcastic sometimes.  Likes pointing out absurdities and inconsistencies and perceived injustices.  He's funny as hell and gets bored easily.  

In short, he's me when I was going into middle school.

So, just as much as I worry over my daughter as she moves on to college, I worry about my son, as well.  Hope that he adjusts well.  Finds something that he's passionate about--art, music, geography, science, math, sports.  Anything.

Saint Marty just wants his kids to be happy and successful in life.  All the time.

On My Son's Future

by:  Martin Achatz

I meet with his future
Teachers today, a man, a woman,
To decide how we will
Mold him into something
Acceptable, a straight “A”
Football player valedictorian
Who will speak without
Sibilance or stutter,
Will eat brussel sprouts
Without glottal gag
Or plosive retch,
Will recite the alphabet,
Count to one hundred,
Name the bones of the hand
Before kindergarten,
Memorize Lincoln’s
Gettysburg Address for kicks,
Recite it on the playground
As he lobs the ball
Over the fence, takes
His victory lap around
The bases as the other
Boys glare with envy,
The girls admire
His easy, confident
Gait that will carry
Him through high school,
Into college on scholarship,
Medical school on fellowship,
Johns Hopkins, onto missionary
Work where he’ll discover
The cure for some
As yet unknown disease
Decimating sub-Saharan
Africa, for which he’ll
Win the Nobel Prize
For Medicine, thank me
In his acceptance speech
For the choices I make
Today, for asking
Whether he will get
A nap in the afternoon
Next year.