The Neurotic Parent

I have managed to keep up this blog for over a year without referring to the days when you:

- applied to just three schools

- got into all three

- spent $3K tops per year on tuition

- enrolled in Psychology, Philosophy, Film and a course about Malcolm X

- took over the library

- then, providing you could type, you could find an entry-level job in the field of your choice without anyone ever asking you where you attended college, what you had studied, what your GPA was or how many years it took you to graduate.

Now, of course, everything is different…and the Registration Process seems to have changed just as much as the Admissions Process.  One inevitable earth-friendly innovation is that there is no longer a hard copy of the Schedule of Classes.  Course descriptions are now listed online, but not in a readable way.  (Imagine the Manhattan phone book – You would never read it on the internet the way you would glance through the pages of the real thing.) 

So never again will students get to pore over a thick catalog, crossing out the Nursing and ROTC classes, circling Political Science and Communications, contemplating all the fascinating possibilities that are available.

Because CJ doesn't know what he's missing, he doesn't really care that his school only provides a virtual schedule of classes.  In fact, he barely glanced at the offerings and instead chose his classes with the help of his three upperclass friends by text messages, a phone conversation (!) and even a lunch (!!). 

They gave him advice like "Don't take Calculus, Chemistry or Spanish – they're all too hard." (Too bad those happen to be CJ's strongest subjects.)  Other suggestions involved not signing up for anything before 11 AM, checking out teachers on ratemyprofessor.com and a big hint about an entire department known for its easy A's (can't divulge that one here…would have to kill you.) 

The three upperclassman didn't completely neglect "love of learning" courses.  They each suggested 2-3 life-changing professors, but, alas, their classes all had long waiting lists.

So the Neurotic Parent, who never once helped choose a class for CJ in high school, felt compelled to step in and find some interesting classes.

And in no time I discovered the REAL reason why colleges have stopped printing catalogs: Today's classes all deal with the same common theme - Globalization.  In just a quick look-see, I found 72 classes that point out that It's a Globalized World After All…for instance:

- "Globalization and Domestic Politics" 

- "Labor, Gender and Globalization"

- "Globalization and Public Health Discourse"

- "India in a Global Age"'

- Even a Capstone seminar in Canadian Globalization (Hmm…are the rest of you as surprised as I am that our neighbor to the north has become globalized?) 

Sadly, the Neurotic Parent Institute has determined that CJ's school is not the only institution that has become obsessed with the "G" buzzword.  In a shocking development, a newly-funded NPI study has show that colleges EVERYWHERE are dumping their catalogs supposedly for ecological reasons, but in fact we are experiencing a massive international cover up designed to prevent students from realizing that the majority of college classes are now Globalization-related.  Even universities in China and India and Iceland and Ghana and Dubai and Brazil have jumped on the bandwagon…Wow – I wonder how all those countries decided to do the same thing at the same time.  Maybe there's a class I could take that could explain this unprecedented phenomenon.

Returned from bonding with the blue-footed boobies just in time to:

- attend the Southern California Accepted Students' Reception for CJ's new school

- find out CJ's roommate and dorm assignment

- discover that the new computer we ordered ten days ago for CJ is now practically obsolete; a superior new upgraded model is now available for $300 less (normally we would scream and yell until we got our money back, but we don't want to get into a fight with CJ's college's computer store)

- send in first monthly payment for CJ's education – a figure equal to twice the cost of my first year of college

- face the deadline for course selection; everything that interests CJ is only offered on T/Th, so for the moment, he is considering a schedule that gives him four days off a week.

Those are the highlights.  Here are the details:

THE RECEPTION:

In spite of my vacation afterglo, I argued with CJ about proper attire….then finally gave in and "allowed" him to attend in a tee shirt and jeans.  This decison was influenced by a book "Letting Go", which is about how to preserve your sanity and your relationship with your college-bound child. I must disclose that I have not started it yet, but it is sitting next to my bed and I'm sure it would say that it is time to give up trying to control what your child wears. 

It turned out that half of the boys at the event were dressed exactly like CJ and the other half showed up in preppy outfits that I had never seen anyone wear around here, all probably chosen by parents who have not yet Let Go (95% percent of the adults I spoke to at the event were corporate attorneys). 

 CJ mingled effortlessly with his future classmates, and later said that he could see himself becoming good friends with three of them, and that only one was "really weird". 

I am pleased to report that both CJ and I have both survived his high school graduation.  The whole process was as tiring as childbirth for me, and I have just woken up after sleeping for three days.

The ceremony achieved a perfect balance of non-pretentious tradition and individuality - four musical numbers performed by Julliard-bound kids and students whose rock bands perform regularly at the Roxy.  The final piece – Somewhere Over the Rainbow – a cello and ukelele duet, was the most moving and just the thought of it still makes me tear up. 

Our school doesn't have sals or vals…Any interested student can give a speech if the headmaster and deans approve.  The three who spoke were clever and articulate, and collectively captured the strong feelings everyone has for our quirky school.  The main speaker, selected by student vote, was the legendary math teacher/ping pong champion who CJ the mathematician never had as an instructor…I found myself thinking what if about all h.s. opportunities he missed – (like art, drama and film…don't get me started).  But in general, he had an serendipitiously perfect experience: exposure to problem solving and self awareness, activities he was passionate about, close bonds with teachers, lifelong friends. 

CJ sat on stage between a girl who has been his buddy since pre-school, once a tiny waif with a lisp, and a boy he's known since birth, who iconoclastically wore no shoes or clothing under his robe.  We had a perfect view of our son, and the 14.7 megapixel snapshot of him in his cap and gown is now forever immortalized on my Facebook page, along with dozens of emotional comments from my oldest friends.

Hugs…photos…encounters with past teachers and countless alumni…then dinner with our whole extended family…platters of kobe beef, black cod and spicy tuna on crispy rice.  Seven other families with seniors chose to celebrate at the same place, and one mom treated all of the grads who came of age that evening to shots of sake.

NEXT: GRAD NIGHT