You sniffle watching your kid pack a few meaningful childhood belongings, as you both begin to transition into the next full-blown chapter of life. You load the car, and you help carry things into the dorm. You stock their little refrigerator, watch as they set up their room, slip them a few twenty's, then turn and walk away from you soon to be anointed “adult” college kid.
You call a couple of times, they come home occasionally. At Thanksgiving break, you welcome them back into the fold, treating them like a warrior returning from the academic battlefield. The first semester's prognosis is stable. All four mental, emotional and behavioral tires seem to be on the road.
As life roars toward Christmas, calls become fewer, knowing that through relentless discipline, they are studying mightily. The first semester is over, relief for all. Time to celebrate the holiday, review the first semester, and plan for the second.
I remember asking my son and his friend, “What’s the most important lesson you learned about managing yourself this first semester?” His friend said, “Mr. Scott, I learned that if your late to class, still go in, because there is usually someone who comes in later than you did.” I turned to my son, and he said, “I learned that if you don’t go to class, then you probably won’t do very well on the tests.” “What,” I asked? And he repeated, “If you don’t go to class, you probably won’t do very well on the tests.” “Which class,” I asked? “All of them,” he said.
Some kids alert their parents that a letter of expulsion from the university will be arriving soon, due to failing grades, while others just wait for their folks to be blindsided.
29-30% of college freshmen don’t return for their sophomore year. There is a steep price to be paid for freedom. Time is often misspent. Even one missed class or botched test can set a student seriously behind. First-semester adult freshmen usually don’t have difficulty filling their time. Where they struggle is managing themselves, “productively,” within time. Unchecked lures as simple as video games and as blatant as another, “kegger,” affect everything.
This is a very fragile and pivotal time in the young adult’s life. In high school, some of these kids were groomed and forecasted for stardom. Others did and will do okay, eventually. While others had no business ever setting foot on a college campus…yet.
Freshmen who enter as underachievers must take what are called remedial, or “weed out” courses, and 50% of all freshman fail these courses. For some, this is the first time they’ve ever failed at anything, never experiencing the expression of shock and disapproval etched across their parents face. How you as a parent handle this delicate and traumatic time can have an everlasting effect on the choices they make and the trajectory of their life.
I worked with a girl who left high school a star, had a terrible first semester, got depressed, wouldn't answer her phone, gave skeletal reports of “okay-ness,” sequestered herself in her dorm room, packed up her belongings at Christmas and headed home. She asphyxiated herself soon after her return. The letter came a week or so after her death, containing the words she couldn't say, or bear to hear, “failure.” She felt she couldn’t handle her parent's disappointment. When learning and socialization don't work, a person can feel helpless and hopeless. There were many people willing to help.
On the other hand, I’ve worked with many kids who did nothing but socialize, lacking any clear correlation between reality and responsibility. They couldn't connect the "not doing" to “not passing."
When a soldier is sent overseas, they are given papers, briefing them on where they’re going, who to report to, and what to expect. Upon return, they are debriefed. They are asked, “What did you experience?” “What did you see?” “What did, and what do you feel?” Often there is some form of mild to severe post-traumatic-stress-disorder.
Failing is traumatic for a young freshman. Their itinerary for the immediate future is shredded. The shame and humiliation that comes from packing up your dorm room, and trying to slip out unnoticed, while witnessing your peers experiencing relief, is excruciating. The anxiety and fear of not knowing what to do next, bear tremendous weight, and the awareness that your a disappointment is terrifying. Letting yourself and others down is traumatic. Needless to say, the holiday season is tainted for everybody. But such a set back should not discolor the rest of your life.
These kids need to talk, much more than needing a blistering severing lecture. The last thing we want is for them to over-identify with failure, having it become their identity. Because how they feel about themselves privately will be their roadmap through life. And at this juncture of their journey, we know they don’t feel very good.
I want to know “What happened?” Too drunk, too high, too hungover, too much X-box, too cavalier, too scared, too overwhelmed, too much anxiety, over medicated, too serious, not serious enough, lonely, homesick, disconnected, too connected, rejected, whoring around, afraid to make eye contact, to fat, to thin, inability to concentrate, nightmare roommate, traumatizing sexual experiences, no clue what the professors are talking about or how to study, an unexpected or internalized religious flogging, no one to wake you up five times, hold your hand, make breakfast or fold your clothes? The realities of freshman year can sure dethrone juvenile royalty.
They need to be debriefed just like a soldier. Help them crystallize clearly what didn’t work, and what they didn’t do, then get stronger by doing it.
First-semester adult freshmen have little difficulty filling their time. What they struggle with is managing themselves productively within time. Unchecked lures as simple as video games and as blatant as another, “kegger,” affects everything.
If our kid falls on the soccer field, we don’t turn our backs on them, nor do we run onto the field, pick them up, put them in the car and berate them on the drive home. What we do is comfort them, dust them off, and gently push them back onto the field.
Self-regulation is not learned in one fell swoop. It’s usually through mistake after mistake. The key is learning from them. What hurts us the most will instruct us the most, providing were willing to learn to be comfortable with discomfort. As a freshman, I was shocked that my college professors expected me to actually read all the chapters. This cut deeply into my extracurricular activities and “chillin” time.
“You're going to get a job, and pay us back every penny,” is not what they need to hear at this moment. Nor do they need coddling, smearing Clearasil over their academic and self-regulating acne. We need to be solution-oriented, not problem bound.
Good thing the universe isn’t zero tolerance, or we’d all be screwed. Many of us need two or three chances, reprieves, and opportunities to streamline life in order to get it right. In fact, many adults will castigate their young adult, for not doing things they’ve never done themselves.
I told my son that I was committed to helping him succeed. “You need to find a community college, no less than 100 miles from home. This all had to be done within the next few weeks. I will help you every way I can. You will always have my love, belief, and backing. But it’s going to be up to you to fix the academic fractures yourself.”
After a successful semester in Nowhere-Ville, he transferred to another university, where he did okay. He then joined the Airforce, where he’s been my hero for the past 11 years. He has traveled all over the world doing things he can’t tell me about. He is a ½ inch away from his degree, and the only Scott ever to take calculus.
If you never give up on them, then chances are they will never give up on themselves.