Four weeks ago, I dropped off my younger daughter to start her freshman year at college. Parents of incoming freshmen at every school get versions of the same emails: about scheduling your kid’s move-in time and filling out forms for the health center and making sure to buy the extra-long sheets.
Parents of daughters get an extra assignment. It isn’t written down, but we all know what it is. In between buying shower caddies and LED lights, we have to give our girls a refresher course on Rape Prevention 101. Don’t leave your drink unattended at a party. Don’t walk home late at night by yourself. Make sure someone knows where you are. Watch out for your friends.
On move-in day, student volunteers wearing T-shirts in the school colors helpfully whisked my daughter’s suitcases, the single stuffed animal she brought to keep her company and her straining-at-the-seams IKEA bags up to her dorm room. Her father and I made her bed, unboxed her fan, helped her put her clothes in the drawers. We all went to lunch. She went to a meeting with her resident adviser group. Then it was time to say goodbye.
“Make good choices!” I called. I drove home, a little sad, mostly proud, thinking: My work here is done. I knew it wasn’t really true — she’ll still come home on breaks, and she’ll still need me — but it was a milestone. My kind, smart, big-hearted daughter was ready to spread her wings, ready to meet all the people and do all the things.
-Jennifer Weiner in the NY Times
