Parents Weekend arrived at my daughter’s college and, with care package in hand, I headed to campus expecting to go to workshops and events, be celebrated for sending my progeny, and be handed lots of swag. Instead, the first thing my daughter said upon arrival was, “Let’s get out of here, now!”
Either she hadn’t looked at all the fun things going on, had other plans for our time together, or both. Parents Weekend to her meant having me around, with car and wallet in hand. We did some shopping, stocked her mini-fridge, and ate some nice meals together. I missed out, however, on the “We Love Parents” speech by the president, the “Thank You Parents” luncheon and the “Parents are Great” meeting with her class dean.
My daughter is thankful for her college experience, for sure, but there are moments when it’s easy to feel my role is simply sending in the checks. Getting a little recognition feels good, so if her school wants to throw me a little party, I’m happy to oblige and feel a little more connected to my girl’s experience.
It is easy to forget how consuming campus life can be and how engrossing and important everything seems. While the school put up signs declaring “Parents Welcome,” my child was still storming ahead with her day-to-day life. I could follow along, mostly, as long as I didn’t get in the way.
She was stage manager for a play about to start performances and I got to meet the writer and director, a classmate of my daughter’s. I saw where the show would go on and got to review the proofs of the poster as they flashed on her smartphone. In her room, I was put to work fixing the printer and getting a pump for the flat tires on her bicycle.
We found a good diner not too far away and got some Thai take out so she could rush off to another rehearsal. Saturday night we managed to squeeze in a nice family dinner before she headed back to help her dorm prepare for an event they said was a poetry reading but sounded like a party to me.
I certainly got a feel for her life — where she is spending her time, what she is busy doing, who she is hanging with. I even got a campus tour, sort of, as I drove her around, dropping her one place or another.
It wasn’t the weekend I expected: no wine and cheese receptions, no lectures by the faculty and administration, no meeting other parents and sharing perspectives on our children’s new phase in life.
I left, though, feeling like a parent because I had spent the weekend with my child, sharing a little bit of her fun, tiring, exciting life and, after a quick stop at the bookstore — where I bought myself a college sweatshirt and a sticker for the car — I had my swag too. It was a great parent’s weekend after all.
