See, the seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen year old counselors, they are great. Many of them were our former students. A generation ago, we were them. They truly are the best of the best. They are energetic. They are caring. They are well meaning. They will invest they lives into make my child's experience great. However, they haven't lived through it. I know, I was one of them. My friends were them. My wife was them. We were selected for our energy, our compassion, our skills, and our character. We charted great opportunities for kids. We made a difference in lives. But there were times when we would work with a child and say, if they only did this, or if that parent only did that.
One of the best jobs in the world is being a grandparent. You have lived through the daily grind of raising children, you have gone up the mountain, come down the other side to see the valley. You have experienced successes of raising children and the mind numbing nights of why doesn't that young man or woman get it. You have looked across the aisle and handed them in partnership off to another and now you are given this blessing to see come forward. In this blessing you see the greatness of your off spring as well as your off spring struggle with some of the same battles you went through. Challenges without answers. Situations that blew your mind a generation ago and now, with time, perspective, and having lived the journey you recognize it is simply part of the journey.
There is a sacred trust you have as a teacher, counselor, camp director, principal, administrator, priest, rabbi, or superintendent. A trust to care, raise, and support the next generation. A daily compact in which a parent hands to you their baby and asks, "please care for my child as if they were your own." A compact as well meaning as we are, we don't understand until we have rugrats of our own running through our legs at a public forum. A compact we don't understand until it's ten minutes past curfew and the door hasn't opened yet. We mean well, we care, we are passionate, but we don't get it until that moment.
I received a letter from a former parent of a school I worked at the other day. She had that child who wasn't easy to figure out. She had the child who "found trouble." When she found me, or perhaps we found each other, she found a willing ear who didn't think there was an easy answer. We shared stories of challenge and embarrassment. Stories of my childhood, stories raising my children, stories of her siblings, and her child. We brainstormed possibilities and opportunities. It was not a moment of advice, not a moment of giving answers, but rather a series dialogues for exploration. She and her husband searched, explored, and tried answers. Some failed. Some succeeded. Now several years later, her child is being recognized as being a model citizen. A tribute to him and to them. A difficult journey but an important and powerful one.
See that's the thing we don't get as teachers, parents, administrators, and clergy. Until we are there. Until we are in those moments with our kids it's hard to understand the nuanced facets of what that child could need and that the answers are not as simple as we believe. At that moment, we understand that each of us is truly trying the best we can and sometimes it works. Yep, best job in the world is being a grandparent. You've played your hand, rode the roller coaster, and come out successfully on the other side. Thank you to all my teachers, principals, and counselors who struggled through the journey with me. Thank you to my parents and in-laws who now get to laugh as we figure things out. Thank you to Paula, Jerry, and Susan who will care for my child and and hundreds of other campers as they help a new generation of energetic well meaning counselors learn the sacred trust of raising other people's children.
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