When, as a parent, do you stop worrying about your children? If you chose “never”, that’s the correct answer. The only exceptions would be advanced dementia or death. Other than that, you never stop worrying. Even when they’re settled, it doesn’t stop. Are they ok? Are they happy? A great line from “Law and Order”, from the character Lt. Anita Van Buren, states “A parent is only as happy as their unhappiest child.” Yup, that sums it up.
We’re going through an “unsettled” stage now. Our daughter is in transition. We’re tremendously proud of her. After running a film competition in DC for a number of years, she decided to change careers, to go back to school and get the necessary degrees to approach academia. She completed her doctorate and will graduate next month. Again, her mother and I are bursting with pride. Now, however, comes the hard part.
She’s sent out numerous job applications, and had a couple of good interviews. But no offers yet. As so often happens, the job search is precarious, particularly in higher education, and particularly right now. She had a good interview at a university down south, on the Gulf of Whatever, which of course delighted her mother and me, only to have them notify her very graciously that the university was cutting back and they wouldn’t be hiring for that position any longer. Again, very gracious as they asked her to “keep them in mind” should they have openings in the future. So, she’s making a very good impression, but, in the Trump II era, uncertainty abounds, and everyone is putting their lives “on hold.” We know that something will come along, but in the meantime, as so many Americans are finding out, the waiting is painful. It’s a fact of life. As one door closes, several more will open. But how soon?
Several years ago, she invited me to come in and watch her teaching. It was part of her fellowship program, and I thought it would be a good opportunity. She’s finding that she really loves teaching. “Quelle surprise”, as the French say. Both parents are teachers, so it’s in the blood. I took my seat in the back of a small, amphitheater-style lecture hall, where I had a vantage point that allowed me to see all of the students in the class. It was gratifying to see how well she did – her presentation was smooth and polished, but of far greater importance, her talk was light and engaging, with video clips and humor to keep students with her. The professor for whom she was a teaching assistant, and her advisor in the department mentioned to me how much they enjoy working with her. As a parent, there is nothing better to hear.
This is, however, a difficult time to be academic. The university from which she’s graduating announced a “hiring freeze” in mid-February. Just last week, though, we as parent “donors” received an announcement that the university was welcoming two new “senior vice presidents”. Administrative positions for which, presumably, they are to be paid in six figures. One for “advancement” – I guess that means fundraising, and the other working in “university relations”. Ah. Is that public relations and marketing? Either way, it points to the direction that large, well-respected colleges and universities are going. More highly paid executives that aren’t teachers.
We as parents worried when our daughter was in DC and running the film competition. It was a non-profit that had an uncertain stream of revenue. Always a struggle to keep heads above water. It was, though, a marvelous experience, and through its award ceremonies, we met a number of distinguished people – actors, composers, and film makers. Life events that we’ll cherish. Like all good things, though, . . . . . . .
Now, as she embarks on a new life adventure, a new adventure, we too are on the road. The ups and downs. Just this week, she’s doing a presentation at a national conference in Chicago. Just getting there was an issue. She was flying from Boston, and was going in by bus. I dropped her at the bus station, only to hear the buses were running seriously late because of a back-up at the toll booth a few miles north. I went back to the bus station and picked her up so we could go into the city to the airport. On our way there, she was notified that her flight was “delayed” by two hours. Ok, that’s manageable. I dropped her at the airport, telling her that if she needed anything, just to call. The original flight, scheduled to leave about 5 PM and delayed until about 7:30, ended up leaving just before midnight. Off and on. The flight crew had timed out, so they needed replacements. Then a hold-up in Chicago. Back and forth, as she looked at alternate flights the next morning, and where to stay in the interim. We went to bed about 11:30, but told her to keep us posted on late-breaking developments. So, of course, we really couldn’t go to sleep. About 3 AM, she texted that she’d landed in Chicago and was on her way to the hotel. Now, we’ll get a little sleep, but of course, I was up at my usual 6:30. I could have been worse. Anyway, our daughter got there and reported that the presentation went well. So, all’s well that puts a few more gray hairs on parental heads.
I have been advised repeatedly by our daughter that I need to aim higher on the lottery ladder than a mere scratch ticket or two. Forget the million. Forget the Publishers Clearing House monthly checks that would supplement our pensions rather nicely. No, that won’t cut it for her. She now needs a considerable legacy, because she’d like to be a major philanthropist. Running her charitable trust, from a penthouse overlooking Boston Harbor. Dispensing huge sums of money to – well, not sure who exactly. Aspiring film makers. Folks digging up true crimes that beg to be brought to light. Her mother and I are big fans of Public Television, but that’s never really been mentioned in the equation of her foundation’s largess. She will be to True Crime what Darlene Shiley is to “Masterpiece Theater.” Or creating her own Sundance Festival. Or even reorganizing the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Once that mega-lotto comes in, you’ll see Her Ladyship and myself on the red carpet, heading into the Oscar award ceremonies. Waving to Helen Mirren and warmly greeting Meryl Streep. You’ll see the words, “Funding provided by the Elizabeth Walters Charitable Trust, which in turn has been syphoned from the ‘Thomas Walters Horticultural Waste of Money’ Conservancy.” Or the “Thomas Walters Blew My Inheritance on His Damn Plants Trust.” The key question, however, remains – will the worrying go away with a comfortable income and stability? Will we be able to relax and let the anxiety go? I’m thinking . . . . . . no.
I'm Thinking...No! 