Chloe is in the same class at school this year with Rita’s daughter Jasmine. As the girls approach middle school, the social dynamic has taken an interesting turn. Much friendship is sought but little friendship is given. Secrets are sought but confidences are violated. Ill-conceived words are taken as great offenses that must be returned with even more venom until two girls who were once friends are bitter enemies at home in tears over the other’s words. But days later all is repaired only to begin again anew.
But in this jungle some friends are less equal than others. Some are too in a hurry to perpetuate the madness while others are genuinely trying to merely get through. Katherine can be a lot of fun when she is with another girl just one on one. But once the crowd gets any larger, Katherine begins to play games. In this environment Katherine is her own worst enemy, but she brings others down with her.
Chloe’s problem is that she is too nice. Katherine begs Chloe to do things together and to talk about things. It doesn’t take Chloe too long to cave and cooperate. Katherine loves this, but at Chloe’s expense. In sharp contrast, Jasmine doesn’t put up with anything. It takes just one violation and Jasmine cuts people off for a long time. In short, Jasmine is too harsh while Chloe is too easy. In the center one finds an emotionally healthy tween girl. And in fact, when they work together, Chloe and Jasmine find that emotionally healthy place in the middle.
If one had asked them, they would not have been able to articulate just how well they had hatched their plan. Instead they simply found one another out of convenience. Chloe explained her problem and Jasmine had some very strong opinions about what to do, but Chloe only agreed to go so far. Both were nervous but working together they found the courage to execute a plan that would get Katherine to back down without any of the adults at school (especially their veteran fifth grade teacher Ms. Freeman) to accuse them of being mean. At recess they found a secluded place and worked out their plan. They memorized a short list of Katherine’s behaviors that they did not find acceptable. At the end of recess they confronted Katherine together and told her they did not want to be friends with her any more because of certain repeated behaviors.
Instead of trying to work things out with Chloe and Jasmine, Katherine did what they expected. She tried to get them in trouble with Ms. Freeman for being mean to her. But this time, Chloe and Jasmine were ready. They stayed after school and faced Ms. Freeman. They told their teacher exactly what behaviors they considered unacceptable and that they would not tolerate from Katherine. They said they did not want to play with Katherine as long as she continued to violate their trust. In the end, Ms. Freeman reluctantly agreed to Chloe and Jasmine’s decision not to play with Katherine. Katherine began crying, but Ms. Freeman held her ground supporting Chloe and Jasmine.
That afternoon, Chloe brought the story home to us. She had both a great sense of relief and a lingering sense of guilt. Chloe was especially moved by Katherine’s tears. It took us a while to figure out what had happened. In the past we had been concerned about Jasmine’s insensitivity and we still have some concerns. But those concerns were dwarfed by how manipulative and destructive Katherine could be. Amelia and I took Chloe’s words and walked through them together. We suddenly saw the value in Jasmine’s insensitivity.
Amelia and I never expected to say there were benefits in having an insensitive friend. But there we were agreeing and smiling at Chloe’s friendship with Jasmine.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Rethinking Payback
Conrad is the top defensive player on the Hermes Varsity Lacrosse team. He has short cropped blond hair and a boyish face. He has joined Philip, Bruce and several other lacrosse players who are not playing football this Fall to play indoor lacrosse during the off-season.
Indoor lacrosse and other indoor sports tend to be more violent than their outdoor counter-parts. The wall is what makes the difference. The action tends to slam players into the wall. Sometimes it is a foul and sometime it is not a foul. But either way, athletes do not like being slammed into a wall. Fights almost never happen during outdoor lacrosse games. But they are reasonably common during indoor lacrosse games.
During the first weekend in October, we faced a team with one particularly aggressive player. Throughout the first period he surfed the edge of acceptable behavior. But at the beginning of the second period he crossed the line. With all his speed, strength and weight, he slammed his stick into Conrad’s torso, pushing him all the way into the wall while continuing to lean his weight into his stick. One of Conrad’s ribs cracked under the force and the blow to the wall knocked the wind out of him. The aggressive player was given a five minute penalty and it enabled our team to climb way ahead in points scored. But it was the end of the game for Conrad. The action got Bruce thinking. And Bruce’s thinking quickly developed into a quiet exchange with one of the other large and aggressive players on our team: Brad.
On the other side of the playing area, parents were watching the game. I was quietly talking to the grandmother of one of the players on the opposing team. She was a bit taken aback by the aggressive play and I was remarking on the violent nature of indoor sports when both Philip and her grandson Jeremy stepped onto the arena. As it turned out the two were lined up to cover one another. Philip and Jeremy proved a good match to challenge one another. At that point the final period of play was well under way.
Not long afterward, the aggressive player from the other team joined the action. Jeremy got hold of the ball but Philip came right at him to challenge Jeremy’s control. With the aggressive player open, Jeremy passed the ball. In less than a second Brad and Bruce collided into the aggressive player from either side and knocked the aggressive player to the floor. Bruce and Brad held their opponent down on the floor and stripped him of his stick and helmet while delivering punch after punch to his face, chest and stomach. Not a single teammate came to the aggressive player's aid. The referee roared, but didn’t dare touch the brawl taking place on the floor. Philip and Jeremy each took a knee as did the majority of other players. Jeremy’s grandmother gulped, regained her composure and then said, “I am so glad your son and my grandson are not involved in that fight. How terrible they are doing that.”
I generally find such fighting repugnant. The system has ways to deal with such behavior but those ways are not fully preventative. Brad and Bruce were ejected from the game. Conrad left the bench and joined them, limping and holding his gut as he walked. A single five minute penalty was awarded to our team with no particular player specified. Between being a man down and missing some of our best players, the opposing team racked up several points in the final minutes of the game. In the end we only won by a single point. But the truth was nobody was thinking about the score or who won. The fight had taken the joy out of seeing a winner to the contest. Jeremy’s grandmother was still saying, “I am so glad your son and my grandson were not involved in that fight” when the final buzzer went off.
In the car ride home, Philip explained to me just how much Conrad had been hurt. And while I still did not like the decision Bruce and Brad had made, I began to see it in a different light. At roughly one hundred, fifteen pounds, Philip has been the team’s penalty magnet. But Philip has never taken a serious hit the way Conrad did that day. And while some look down on it, the threat of a payback from players like Bruce and Brad is a deterrent that ensures Philip is at least reasonably safe from the worst of indoor sports violence.
Indoor lacrosse and other indoor sports tend to be more violent than their outdoor counter-parts. The wall is what makes the difference. The action tends to slam players into the wall. Sometimes it is a foul and sometime it is not a foul. But either way, athletes do not like being slammed into a wall. Fights almost never happen during outdoor lacrosse games. But they are reasonably common during indoor lacrosse games.
During the first weekend in October, we faced a team with one particularly aggressive player. Throughout the first period he surfed the edge of acceptable behavior. But at the beginning of the second period he crossed the line. With all his speed, strength and weight, he slammed his stick into Conrad’s torso, pushing him all the way into the wall while continuing to lean his weight into his stick. One of Conrad’s ribs cracked under the force and the blow to the wall knocked the wind out of him. The aggressive player was given a five minute penalty and it enabled our team to climb way ahead in points scored. But it was the end of the game for Conrad. The action got Bruce thinking. And Bruce’s thinking quickly developed into a quiet exchange with one of the other large and aggressive players on our team: Brad.
On the other side of the playing area, parents were watching the game. I was quietly talking to the grandmother of one of the players on the opposing team. She was a bit taken aback by the aggressive play and I was remarking on the violent nature of indoor sports when both Philip and her grandson Jeremy stepped onto the arena. As it turned out the two were lined up to cover one another. Philip and Jeremy proved a good match to challenge one another. At that point the final period of play was well under way.
Not long afterward, the aggressive player from the other team joined the action. Jeremy got hold of the ball but Philip came right at him to challenge Jeremy’s control. With the aggressive player open, Jeremy passed the ball. In less than a second Brad and Bruce collided into the aggressive player from either side and knocked the aggressive player to the floor. Bruce and Brad held their opponent down on the floor and stripped him of his stick and helmet while delivering punch after punch to his face, chest and stomach. Not a single teammate came to the aggressive player's aid. The referee roared, but didn’t dare touch the brawl taking place on the floor. Philip and Jeremy each took a knee as did the majority of other players. Jeremy’s grandmother gulped, regained her composure and then said, “I am so glad your son and my grandson are not involved in that fight. How terrible they are doing that.”
I generally find such fighting repugnant. The system has ways to deal with such behavior but those ways are not fully preventative. Brad and Bruce were ejected from the game. Conrad left the bench and joined them, limping and holding his gut as he walked. A single five minute penalty was awarded to our team with no particular player specified. Between being a man down and missing some of our best players, the opposing team racked up several points in the final minutes of the game. In the end we only won by a single point. But the truth was nobody was thinking about the score or who won. The fight had taken the joy out of seeing a winner to the contest. Jeremy’s grandmother was still saying, “I am so glad your son and my grandson were not involved in that fight” when the final buzzer went off.
In the car ride home, Philip explained to me just how much Conrad had been hurt. And while I still did not like the decision Bruce and Brad had made, I began to see it in a different light. At roughly one hundred, fifteen pounds, Philip has been the team’s penalty magnet. But Philip has never taken a serious hit the way Conrad did that day. And while some look down on it, the threat of a payback from players like Bruce and Brad is a deterrent that ensures Philip is at least reasonably safe from the worst of indoor sports violence.
The Secret to High School Happiness
I think I may have stumbled upon the best kept secret to happiness in high school. Some would say it is good looks and charisma plus athletic and academic prowess. These certainly help. But most teenagers are lucky to possess even one or two of these qualities. It is the rare prodigy who commands the whole package. Yet somehow, there are teenagers who lack these qualities yet love high school. And likewise, there are many deeply gifted teenagers who hate high school. Philip’s enjoyment of high school has gone up dramatically in the past few weeks and I think I understand why this happened.
Last November, we traveled to Oxford Hills for a lacrosse scrimmage under the lights. In that venue, I discovered just how much fun it is to watch youth sporting events played at night under the lights. So when just a few weeks back Philip wanted to go to Hermes High School’s first Friday night football game, I was very happy to drive him to Loma Prieta as well as stick around to watch the game.
Loma Prieta High School had two sets of bleachers on the guest team side of the field. The left bleachers were occupied primarily by teenagers and the right bleachers were occupied primarily by adults. We arrived in the fourth quarter of the JV game. I walked over to the right bleachers, searched unsuccessfully for Raul’s father and then sat down. Right behind me was a woman I had never met and her teenage daughter. The woman was as gregarious as her daughter was shy. I introduced myself as Philip’s father. The shy girl was a new student at Hermes High School in Philip’s class. The two had just moved from out of State over the summer. But being new didn’t stop the mother from shouting above all the other adults to give each of the eleven Hermes players on the field instructions on what to do.
As the Varsity game began, I could see Philip and about five other Hermes sophomores had moved down from the bleachers to stand as close to the action as a three foot metal fence would allow them. Sophomores on the Varsity and JV Cheer squads approached the group from the field side of the fence to chit-chat before the JV girls exited the field area and the Varsity girls assembled for their game performance. As the Hermes Hawks returned the ball twenty-three yards from the Loma Prieta Lions kick-off, I saw the Hermes team mascot Nestor Hawk approach Philip and the other sophomores. The game quickly retook my attention and by the time I looked back at the sophomores, Philip and Nestor Hawk had disappeared. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw Nestor Hawk reappear with a different pair of sneakers plus thinner, whiter legs. “Is that Philip in the mascot costume?” I asked out loud.
The shy girl behind me let out a laugh and answered. “That is definitely Philip!” For the rest of that evening’s game, Philip danced, flapped his wings, mimicked the cheerleaders’ movements and ran with the flag-bearing spirit squad. At times, the crowd was paying more attention to Philip’s Nestor Hawk antics than they were to the game.
During the ride home, Philip expressed how much he enjoyed being the mascot and how much his antics were appreciated. He had already been invited to appear as the mascot again Thursday evening at the Girls Varsity Volleyball game against Conquistador High School. That role got him invited to a special celebration party hosted by one of the Varsity Volleyball players. As the Fall season has progressed, Philip has continued to exercise his showmanship as Nestor Hawk. He was also invited to perform as a nerd during a group dance routine at the homecoming rally. At home his mobile phone is alive with calls and texts from people asking him to be at various events.
As I have had time to reflect on these new developments, I believe I have quietly discovered the secret to high school happiness. High school happiness is a function of getting involved with the school beyond academics and even athletics. The other students who participate in the spirit squad, group dance routines and other school-related activities and fund-raising efforts also seem extremely happy and satisfied with high school. I do not know why athletics and academics alone are not enough, but clearly something happens when one moves beyond the standard pursuits. And for now, Philip has found his own happiness in such non-standard pursuits like being Nestor Hawk.
Last November, we traveled to Oxford Hills for a lacrosse scrimmage under the lights. In that venue, I discovered just how much fun it is to watch youth sporting events played at night under the lights. So when just a few weeks back Philip wanted to go to Hermes High School’s first Friday night football game, I was very happy to drive him to Loma Prieta as well as stick around to watch the game.
Loma Prieta High School had two sets of bleachers on the guest team side of the field. The left bleachers were occupied primarily by teenagers and the right bleachers were occupied primarily by adults. We arrived in the fourth quarter of the JV game. I walked over to the right bleachers, searched unsuccessfully for Raul’s father and then sat down. Right behind me was a woman I had never met and her teenage daughter. The woman was as gregarious as her daughter was shy. I introduced myself as Philip’s father. The shy girl was a new student at Hermes High School in Philip’s class. The two had just moved from out of State over the summer. But being new didn’t stop the mother from shouting above all the other adults to give each of the eleven Hermes players on the field instructions on what to do.
As the Varsity game began, I could see Philip and about five other Hermes sophomores had moved down from the bleachers to stand as close to the action as a three foot metal fence would allow them. Sophomores on the Varsity and JV Cheer squads approached the group from the field side of the fence to chit-chat before the JV girls exited the field area and the Varsity girls assembled for their game performance. As the Hermes Hawks returned the ball twenty-three yards from the Loma Prieta Lions kick-off, I saw the Hermes team mascot Nestor Hawk approach Philip and the other sophomores. The game quickly retook my attention and by the time I looked back at the sophomores, Philip and Nestor Hawk had disappeared. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw Nestor Hawk reappear with a different pair of sneakers plus thinner, whiter legs. “Is that Philip in the mascot costume?” I asked out loud.
The shy girl behind me let out a laugh and answered. “That is definitely Philip!” For the rest of that evening’s game, Philip danced, flapped his wings, mimicked the cheerleaders’ movements and ran with the flag-bearing spirit squad. At times, the crowd was paying more attention to Philip’s Nestor Hawk antics than they were to the game.
During the ride home, Philip expressed how much he enjoyed being the mascot and how much his antics were appreciated. He had already been invited to appear as the mascot again Thursday evening at the Girls Varsity Volleyball game against Conquistador High School. That role got him invited to a special celebration party hosted by one of the Varsity Volleyball players. As the Fall season has progressed, Philip has continued to exercise his showmanship as Nestor Hawk. He was also invited to perform as a nerd during a group dance routine at the homecoming rally. At home his mobile phone is alive with calls and texts from people asking him to be at various events.
As I have had time to reflect on these new developments, I believe I have quietly discovered the secret to high school happiness. High school happiness is a function of getting involved with the school beyond academics and even athletics. The other students who participate in the spirit squad, group dance routines and other school-related activities and fund-raising efforts also seem extremely happy and satisfied with high school. I do not know why athletics and academics alone are not enough, but clearly something happens when one moves beyond the standard pursuits. And for now, Philip has found his own happiness in such non-standard pursuits like being Nestor Hawk.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
A Friend from Another Generation
I had not spoken with Raul in over a year. But suddenly he was standing next to me saying, “Hey Coach.”
Raul was Philip’s first friend in Hermes. In 2002, before moving from San Geraldo to Hermes, we signed up Philip for Little League Baseball in Hermes. We figured Philip would meet a bunch of kids on the team, and that one of them would almost certainly be in the same first grade class on Philip’s first day at a new school more than half way through the school year. When Philip started at his new elementary school in Hermes, he found Raul there waving him into the same class. The two shared a great season of Little League. For second grade and third grade, I coached the soccer teams on which Philip and Raul played together. To the degree that an adult and a child from different families can be friends, Raul and I have been friends for many years now.
This Fall, Philip has been practicing lacrosse twice a week at Hermes with the other players who are not presently absorbed by football. The off-season lacrosse players have a small patch of fenced-in artificial turf for two hours on Mondays and Wednesdays while the Freshman, JV and Varsity football teams dominate the wide open athletic fields on the Hermes High School campus for the entire week. I arrived on campus from my now fifty minute commute home about fifteen minutes before the lacrosse coach ended practice.
To keep the locker room from being over-crowded, the football coaches release the teams in reverse order of seniority half an hour apart. Raul has been playing on the JV squad this year. While the rest of the sophomore and junior players on the JV team walked by the artificial turf without even slowing to watch, Raul took the opportunity to catch up with me. Like Philip, Raul is lean and now taller than me. I asked him about football and told him I intended to see at least part of the upcoming JV game. He asked about Philip’s lacrosse team and for help identifying Philip from behind the helmets and light body armor. When I asked him how his younger sister was adjusting to high school, he sounded like his father. “She’s adjusting well. If anything, she’s adjusting a little too well in my opinion.” The conversation lasted a little over five minutes.
Like Philip, Raul looked ever so close to adulthood. Our conversation was not far from what would be said between two adults watching the scrimmage at the end of a high school lacrosse practice. I was proud of the boy I had coached and had under my home on multiple occasions. And I was proud of the young man he was today. Raul was healthy and confident. And he was completely comfortable engaging an adult as an equal.
Among Philip’s peers, some have always stood out as special to me. Many of these were ones I had coached along the way. Raul has always been one of the special ones. Coaches, family friends, teachers and others who work with youth in extracurricular activities get to play a minor role in a child’s upbringing for a brief window of life. There is a special satisfaction at the time. There is a special satisfaction that endures. And that enduring satisfaction comes to the surface whenever I get to speak with a kid I had once coached. For the special ones like Raul, the feeling of satisfaction is particularly enjoyable.
The last of the JV players walked just after I told Raul I was planning to catch at least part of his game. He smiled and said, “That would be great.” He then seemed to notice he was going to be the last into the locker room. “I should go get changed so I my dad doesn’t have to wait.” He turned and disappeared into the small current of JV football practice jerseys. And I couldn’t help smiling as I turned my attention back to the lacrosse scrimmage.
Some day Raul will be a full adult. If he and I still live in Hermes ten years from now, I suspect Raul and I will still be friends, and we will enjoy the kind of friendships older adults share with younger adults who are not from the same family.
Raul was Philip’s first friend in Hermes. In 2002, before moving from San Geraldo to Hermes, we signed up Philip for Little League Baseball in Hermes. We figured Philip would meet a bunch of kids on the team, and that one of them would almost certainly be in the same first grade class on Philip’s first day at a new school more than half way through the school year. When Philip started at his new elementary school in Hermes, he found Raul there waving him into the same class. The two shared a great season of Little League. For second grade and third grade, I coached the soccer teams on which Philip and Raul played together. To the degree that an adult and a child from different families can be friends, Raul and I have been friends for many years now.
This Fall, Philip has been practicing lacrosse twice a week at Hermes with the other players who are not presently absorbed by football. The off-season lacrosse players have a small patch of fenced-in artificial turf for two hours on Mondays and Wednesdays while the Freshman, JV and Varsity football teams dominate the wide open athletic fields on the Hermes High School campus for the entire week. I arrived on campus from my now fifty minute commute home about fifteen minutes before the lacrosse coach ended practice.
To keep the locker room from being over-crowded, the football coaches release the teams in reverse order of seniority half an hour apart. Raul has been playing on the JV squad this year. While the rest of the sophomore and junior players on the JV team walked by the artificial turf without even slowing to watch, Raul took the opportunity to catch up with me. Like Philip, Raul is lean and now taller than me. I asked him about football and told him I intended to see at least part of the upcoming JV game. He asked about Philip’s lacrosse team and for help identifying Philip from behind the helmets and light body armor. When I asked him how his younger sister was adjusting to high school, he sounded like his father. “She’s adjusting well. If anything, she’s adjusting a little too well in my opinion.” The conversation lasted a little over five minutes.
Like Philip, Raul looked ever so close to adulthood. Our conversation was not far from what would be said between two adults watching the scrimmage at the end of a high school lacrosse practice. I was proud of the boy I had coached and had under my home on multiple occasions. And I was proud of the young man he was today. Raul was healthy and confident. And he was completely comfortable engaging an adult as an equal.
Among Philip’s peers, some have always stood out as special to me. Many of these were ones I had coached along the way. Raul has always been one of the special ones. Coaches, family friends, teachers and others who work with youth in extracurricular activities get to play a minor role in a child’s upbringing for a brief window of life. There is a special satisfaction at the time. There is a special satisfaction that endures. And that enduring satisfaction comes to the surface whenever I get to speak with a kid I had once coached. For the special ones like Raul, the feeling of satisfaction is particularly enjoyable.
The last of the JV players walked just after I told Raul I was planning to catch at least part of his game. He smiled and said, “That would be great.” He then seemed to notice he was going to be the last into the locker room. “I should go get changed so I my dad doesn’t have to wait.” He turned and disappeared into the small current of JV football practice jerseys. And I couldn’t help smiling as I turned my attention back to the lacrosse scrimmage.
Some day Raul will be a full adult. If he and I still live in Hermes ten years from now, I suspect Raul and I will still be friends, and we will enjoy the kind of friendships older adults share with younger adults who are not from the same family.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Friends off Campus
Some friendships are temporal and some friendships are lasting. Most friendships are born out of shared experiences and values. In my experience, temporal friendships are sustained mainly by proximity. Lasting friendships are sustained by something deeper. For a tween or even a teen navigating the world of friendships, it is not always clear which friendships at school are lasting and which are temporal, but the ones off campus are almost always lasting friendships. Either way, the friendships off campus carry an important benefit.
Growing up, one finds value in friends to be more than just the state of having playmates. The best friends are those one can trust. But during a four to six year window that includes all or nearly all of middle school, the gap between the need for a trustworthy friend and a friend’s ability to be trustworthy is significant.
One wants to share private things with a friend who will keep one’s secret. But the temptation to expose another’s secrets normally exceeds the depth of a tween or early teen’s resolve to keep a confidence. As a result, friends off campus are safer, more reliable and more trustworthy merely as a function of their lack of proximity.
For this reason, Amelia and I have actively encouraged Philip and Chloe to develop friendships off campus. Within weeks of moving to Hermes back when Philip was in the first grade, Philip and Chloe had both formed friendships with the Rivera family. Joshua Rivera is one Philip’s best friends. Debbie Rivera has gotten close to both Philip and Chloe. And Abby Rivera is also one of Chloe’s friends. Over a longer period of time, Jack Rivera, their father, has come to be my best friend while Chelsea Rivera, their mom, has become one of Amelia’s best friends. With the exception of the two years Philip attended Oak Hills Charter School, Philip and Chloe have never gone to the same school with the Rivera’s.
Philip has fully grasped the idea that Joshua is the friend to whom the most private confidences can be revealed. Whenever we go to the Rivera house, Philip and Joshua go behind the house to where the two can lift weights and chat. Girls and parents are forbidden from joining them and they work hard to maintain their privacy by insisting that any interruption be important.
Chloe’s best friend off campus is Savannah. Samantha was the one who invited Chloe to participate in the play last summer. Over the course of the summer, Savannah introduced Chloe to her friend Holly. Holly also does not go to Chloe’s school. Lately, Chloe and Holly have been getting together and most of what they do is talk. During a recent lacrosse event in which Philip got to play with Division II college lacrosse players under the lights at Cabrillo High School, Chloe invited Holly to come along. During the two hour event, the two girls spent nearly the entire time walking around the track together while Amelia, Holly’s father and I were up in the bleachers watching the event.
Having friends off campus is something Amelia and I have encouraged and cultivated for Philip and Chloe. Now that they have reached the difficult years, the effort seems to be paying off. Each has friends with whom secrets can be shared and be kept safe. And no matter what happens on campus, there will always be supportive friends for them off campus.
Growing up, one finds value in friends to be more than just the state of having playmates. The best friends are those one can trust. But during a four to six year window that includes all or nearly all of middle school, the gap between the need for a trustworthy friend and a friend’s ability to be trustworthy is significant.
One wants to share private things with a friend who will keep one’s secret. But the temptation to expose another’s secrets normally exceeds the depth of a tween or early teen’s resolve to keep a confidence. As a result, friends off campus are safer, more reliable and more trustworthy merely as a function of their lack of proximity.
For this reason, Amelia and I have actively encouraged Philip and Chloe to develop friendships off campus. Within weeks of moving to Hermes back when Philip was in the first grade, Philip and Chloe had both formed friendships with the Rivera family. Joshua Rivera is one Philip’s best friends. Debbie Rivera has gotten close to both Philip and Chloe. And Abby Rivera is also one of Chloe’s friends. Over a longer period of time, Jack Rivera, their father, has come to be my best friend while Chelsea Rivera, their mom, has become one of Amelia’s best friends. With the exception of the two years Philip attended Oak Hills Charter School, Philip and Chloe have never gone to the same school with the Rivera’s.
Philip has fully grasped the idea that Joshua is the friend to whom the most private confidences can be revealed. Whenever we go to the Rivera house, Philip and Joshua go behind the house to where the two can lift weights and chat. Girls and parents are forbidden from joining them and they work hard to maintain their privacy by insisting that any interruption be important.
Chloe’s best friend off campus is Savannah. Samantha was the one who invited Chloe to participate in the play last summer. Over the course of the summer, Savannah introduced Chloe to her friend Holly. Holly also does not go to Chloe’s school. Lately, Chloe and Holly have been getting together and most of what they do is talk. During a recent lacrosse event in which Philip got to play with Division II college lacrosse players under the lights at Cabrillo High School, Chloe invited Holly to come along. During the two hour event, the two girls spent nearly the entire time walking around the track together while Amelia, Holly’s father and I were up in the bleachers watching the event.
Having friends off campus is something Amelia and I have encouraged and cultivated for Philip and Chloe. Now that they have reached the difficult years, the effort seems to be paying off. Each has friends with whom secrets can be shared and be kept safe. And no matter what happens on campus, there will always be supportive friends for them off campus.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sustaining the Connection
For me, my sophomore year in high school was the turning point. Suddenly, I could feel adulthood looming on the horizon. Now nearly thirty years later, Philip is a sophomore in high school and I suddenly sense the ticking calendar. He loves me. But he needs me less than he has ever needed me. At the same time, he craves autonomy more than ever before. At unexpected times, Philip wants to fully engage. Most of the time, however, he prefers to be alone in his room with just the computer and his own musings to keep him company. But there are two exceptions to his unpredictable willingness to interact.
The first exception is the television. Philip’s tastes range from action and science fiction to documentaries. During the school year, our family rule is that the television goes off at 4:30pm on weekday school nights. That leaves only the weekend for me to share watching television with Philip. We have found a number of television shows available on DVD to watch over time. On many weekend nights, it is the last thing Philip and I do before we each head off to bed. But occasionally I get lucky. At the end of a show, when his mother and sister have often gone to bed, Philip will sometimes leverage these private times to talk to me about what is on his mind.
The other exception is sports and exercise. Philip is very willing to include me when I can help. In this new school year, it has meant signing him up for off-season indoor lacrosse in San Geraldo and regularly serving as the driver for him and other players from the area playing on his team
Philip’s intense interest in exercise went to an even higher level some time in the summer. We had expected him to sleep as late as possible each morning. But instead Philip set his alarm to go off before the first signs of light. He began doing push-ups and various abdominal exercises. Philip’s morning exercise routine has given me the opportunity to take him on multiple shopping trips to the local sporting goods stores. We’ve purchased athletic shoes, dumbbells and ankle weights. Now, half an hour before my own alarm is scheduled to play a local radio station, I hear the siren of Philip’s alarm clock. It is followed by the sound of him climbing out of his bunk bed and then either the stomp of his lunges or the clink of his dumbbells.
On an outing to the grocery store, I took Philip alone and encouraged him to browse the men's magazines. He took no interest in the publications that focused on body-building, gaming, cars or fashion. But the more broad-based publication, Men's Health, appealed to him, so I added the five dollar newsstand price to that day's grocery bill. After Philip devoured the August issue, I invested around twenty dollars to get him an annual subscription. Now every so often, he emerges from his room to show me a new exercise he read about and wanted to try.
For a while, all of Philip's dawn exercises were a private affair. But he wanted to start running. I volunteered to manage his stopwatch while he worked to improve his time on a neighborhood run of roughly seven hundred meters. Now when I hear the alarm go off, I get out of bed myself. I throw on shorts, a tank top and a sweatshirt. I knock on his door and tell him to get me when he is ready to run. Five to twenty-five minutes go by while I cat nap. If my own alarm goes off, I know Philip won't be running. But normally he chooses to run. I leap up and join him downstairs. We lace our athletic shoes together and head outside. Philip may stretch or do some quick warm-ups, but he is normally ready to go almost immediately.
With Philip at the edge of our driveway, leaning forward ready to launch into a sprint, I speak a crisp "Ready … set … go!" He disappears into the darkness down the street. I turn the opposite direction and briskly walk to our meeting point at a nearby intersection. In the quiet of the morning, I never fully lose the sound of his feet slamming into the pavement with a rhythmic beat from somewhere in the neighborhood. Shortly after I arrive at our meeting point, the rhythm starts to get louder. He picks up the pace for the final stretch of his morning run. Soon he passes the finish mark and I tell him how much time elapsed. The sound of Philip's fast, heavy breathing replaces the first rhythm with a new one. Together we enjoy the short walk back to our house.
Over the past few weeks Philip's morning sprint has become a ritual that helps me relish what is left of the time I have with Philip under my roof. But whether it is the rhythm of his running or the rhythm of his breathing, it is still the sound of the ticking calendar to me.
The first exception is the television. Philip’s tastes range from action and science fiction to documentaries. During the school year, our family rule is that the television goes off at 4:30pm on weekday school nights. That leaves only the weekend for me to share watching television with Philip. We have found a number of television shows available on DVD to watch over time. On many weekend nights, it is the last thing Philip and I do before we each head off to bed. But occasionally I get lucky. At the end of a show, when his mother and sister have often gone to bed, Philip will sometimes leverage these private times to talk to me about what is on his mind.
The other exception is sports and exercise. Philip is very willing to include me when I can help. In this new school year, it has meant signing him up for off-season indoor lacrosse in San Geraldo and regularly serving as the driver for him and other players from the area playing on his team
Philip’s intense interest in exercise went to an even higher level some time in the summer. We had expected him to sleep as late as possible each morning. But instead Philip set his alarm to go off before the first signs of light. He began doing push-ups and various abdominal exercises. Philip’s morning exercise routine has given me the opportunity to take him on multiple shopping trips to the local sporting goods stores. We’ve purchased athletic shoes, dumbbells and ankle weights. Now, half an hour before my own alarm is scheduled to play a local radio station, I hear the siren of Philip’s alarm clock. It is followed by the sound of him climbing out of his bunk bed and then either the stomp of his lunges or the clink of his dumbbells.
On an outing to the grocery store, I took Philip alone and encouraged him to browse the men's magazines. He took no interest in the publications that focused on body-building, gaming, cars or fashion. But the more broad-based publication, Men's Health, appealed to him, so I added the five dollar newsstand price to that day's grocery bill. After Philip devoured the August issue, I invested around twenty dollars to get him an annual subscription. Now every so often, he emerges from his room to show me a new exercise he read about and wanted to try.
For a while, all of Philip's dawn exercises were a private affair. But he wanted to start running. I volunteered to manage his stopwatch while he worked to improve his time on a neighborhood run of roughly seven hundred meters. Now when I hear the alarm go off, I get out of bed myself. I throw on shorts, a tank top and a sweatshirt. I knock on his door and tell him to get me when he is ready to run. Five to twenty-five minutes go by while I cat nap. If my own alarm goes off, I know Philip won't be running. But normally he chooses to run. I leap up and join him downstairs. We lace our athletic shoes together and head outside. Philip may stretch or do some quick warm-ups, but he is normally ready to go almost immediately.
With Philip at the edge of our driveway, leaning forward ready to launch into a sprint, I speak a crisp "Ready … set … go!" He disappears into the darkness down the street. I turn the opposite direction and briskly walk to our meeting point at a nearby intersection. In the quiet of the morning, I never fully lose the sound of his feet slamming into the pavement with a rhythmic beat from somewhere in the neighborhood. Shortly after I arrive at our meeting point, the rhythm starts to get louder. He picks up the pace for the final stretch of his morning run. Soon he passes the finish mark and I tell him how much time elapsed. The sound of Philip's fast, heavy breathing replaces the first rhythm with a new one. Together we enjoy the short walk back to our house.
Over the past few weeks Philip's morning sprint has become a ritual that helps me relish what is left of the time I have with Philip under my roof. But whether it is the rhythm of his running or the rhythm of his breathing, it is still the sound of the ticking calendar to me.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
When Teen Life Intersects Adult Life
Teresa has been a good friend to Philip. I first saw Teresa at an off-season lacrosse game under the lights in Oxford Hills during November of Philip’s freshman year. While Amelia and I watched the game, Chloe paired off with Teresa’s younger sister to keep one another company. As it turned out, Teresa had a “new” boyfriend named Steven and he was playing Goalie on Philip’s off-season team. Even though she was there for her boyfriend, Teresa still made sure to spend some of her time after the game chatting with Philip.
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