scribblechic

If I were on a high this afternoon from last night’s homework endeavor, I was soon to discover the balance of the Universe in a humbling exercise in helplessness. My mind contentedly and completely absorbed with my daughter’s confidence, I wasn’t anticipating the sad eyes that met mine at the end-of-day dismissal; the slow walk to my car or the heavy sigh into a chin up, crocodile tears heartbreak.

My daughter’s new school organizes a service club that empowers children to serve as ambassadors to other new students. It is a position my daughter coveted for the chance to translate her experiences this fall for the benefit of other new students in the year to come. From the moment her application came home, she was already outlining how she might help; cataloguing her expertise and projecting purpose.

For the past week she’s talked herself into certainty with the same confidence that lead her to assign herself a more challenging math assignment. Today’s form letter declining her application was a humbling disappointment.

There were, however, a few beautiful moments I want to salvage from the loss.

To my daughter,

The sweetest part of your disappointment today was your sensitivity to language. That you felt “crushing” news was worthy of a more personal communication says something of your respect for others and sense of empathy. I hope you always recognize the value in handwritten notes and direct conversations.

You cried openly, allowing yourself to indulge in an honest acknowledgment of a difficult loss, but you also accepted as a new student those teachers or administrators who made the final selection did not know you well enough to judge your character or ability. Here you resisted the temptation to let failure define you.

These may seem like small observations, but they acknowledge an awareness beyond your years. In a moment of disappointment you weren’t pointing fingers or placing blame, but rather using the experience to grow. Learning in a way you might not have if you had found an easier success.

There’s something else. I owe you an apology; I didn’t have enough faith in your strength.

When you applied, I was tempted to stack the deck; to beg someone to offer you a safe place to shine. I knew you would be an ideal ambassador and I felt confident the experience would help you navigate your transition to a new community. I didn’t, but I dearly wanted to.

Your father and I agreed that helping you in this way would be cheating and, worse, would undermine any certainty that you could have earned this accomplishment independent of my meddling good intentions. This afternoon I was tempted again to fix your disappointment, to orchestrate success with a last minute interference.

It is so much easier watching you smile, than standing helplessly while you hurt. There was nothing to do but listen as you sounded out your emotions.

Know this: you would have been a wonderful ambassador, but you are an exceptional individual. I’m sorry for your disappointment, but I’m so proud of your heart. I hope you dream a new goal with the same courage.

Love, Mom

Tagged: Daughter, Musings