Trouble in physics city

In the 1980s movie "Moonstruck," Olympia Dukakis proclaims that our ability to accessorize is what distinguishes us from the animals. I'd like to add to that . . ."and our ability to keep our mouths shut."

So here we are again, physics homework redux. A has been sitting in the chair opposite me for going on three hours now. He is reading, calculating, drawing out graphs, and staring at the textbook willing the words to enter his brain and reorganize themselves there in a way that makes sense. It is taking everything in my power not to say anything. Not to urge him to give up, (as I confessed in an earlier post), not to urge him to ask his father for help. Not to keep offering suggestion after suggestion. I wanted to. But I didn't. It is just now dawning on me that every time I intervene, I am depriving him of an experience he needs to have. How can he possibly learn to cope if his parents pop up like gophers anytime there's a hint of trouble?

Tonight, there is trouble, trouble in physics city. It's up to him to make his way home.

Staring at the Sun

Why is it that people seem so eager to share their college admissions horror stories, and less willing to share the good news? It's like everyone I know is following the Fox News Network formula for attention-getting storytelling.

When we were about to buy our first condo in Boston, we heard all sorts of stories of how the market was about to crash, about people who had invested everything in a unit and lost it six months later, and other cautionary tales of woe. When I first became pregnant (yes, here I go again with the pregnancy theme--sorry guys), everyone from my mother to the toll booth collector told me about the two-headed baby, the one-eyed baby, the babies born premature, and babies that never made it to birth at all. All terrible. All sobering. And most of all, all terrifying. Hearing these stories is like stopping to watch a train wreck or gazing directly at the sun--you know that you shouldn't do it, yet somehow can't pull your eyes away.

I used to rail at my father when he would say, philosophically, that life is not always fair. Now, as a grown up, I know that he was right. So if we can't count on fairness in the college admissions process, I guess all we can do is hope for luck. It seems a tenuous lifeline at best.

Would Folic Acid Help?

It occurs to me that this whole admissions process is not unlike a pregnancy--it seems to take a long time, there are mood swings galore, and at the end of the process your life is markedly different than it was back when the whole thing seemed like a good idea.

At least when I was pregnant, I could go to the doctor for monthly check-ups to make sure all was on track. And at each visit he would ask if I was remembering to take my folic acid--a vitamin to promote cell growth and prevent spina bifida and other congenital malformations. It seemed so simple. Eat well, take my folic acid, and there was a fabulously high chance that all would turn out well in the end. As happily, with both my children, it did.

But I do not believe there is a "folic acid" or other pill out there that can claim to do the same for college admissions. Would that there were.

One semester down, three to go

The first semester of senior year ends tomorrow. We've been holding our breath for most of these ten weeks. The stakes seemed high. As well as A has done the last two years, his mediocre performance (by his standards) in 9th grade have brought down his GPA. At 8.3, it is on the low-ish end of what MIT and other top schools look for. (Please, don't ask about the odd GPA numbers. Whereas most schools rank on a scale of four, Newton North uses some unique and bizarre system that involves level of class, degree of difficulty compared to other similar classes, number of students taking the class, and the phase of the moon. Honestly, no one seems to understand the ranking system, yet everyone accepts it.)

To kick things up a notch, he took a heavy course load: AP Physics (more on this class and my "worst parenting moment" in a later post), AP English, Honors Calculus, Economics, AP Italian, in addition to being a teaching assistant and working for the school doing computer repair and support. The pressure has been high to score a home run on each class. Not exactly the way one wants to spend the beginning of senior year, nevertheless that was the situation.

And, with one day to go, signs are looking good for a strong showing. At the risk of jinxing the poor kid, here's my prediction: Physics--A; English: between A and B; Calculus: A; Economics: A; Italian: A. I don't think he gets graded in the teaching and work study.

So, report cards come out right before Thanksgiving, and grades get sent along to the schools. I'm pretty sure it's the last piece of info they receive before making their decision.

No matter what happens now, A has done his bit. There's nothing more he can do other than sit back, take a breath, cross his fingers and hope he's a winner in the lottery that is college admissions these days.