Homecoming

Eric and I went to dinner at PF Chang's last night not knowing that we would be sharing the restaurant with dozens of High Schoolers. We sat in our booth and indiscreetly gawked at the teenagers as they clopped along in their mile-high heels, iGadget attached to their shellacked nails, spray-tanned arms linked through the arms of their Homecoming dates.  The boys wore suspenders and bow-ties and other hipster-ish apparel and tossed their moppy hairdos off to one side for
photo ops. Eric and I were speechless. We are in an information-gathering stage of this whole parenting thing, but we have been focused on infancy, not puberty. What will it be like for our child in 15 years when he is attending homecoming? What will it be like for us as parents? We nibbled our Kung Pao shrimp in silence.

A few weeks ago Eric and I were invited to one of my piano student's homes for dinner. My student (now former student) would be leaving for CU Boulder the following week to pursue his degree in Engineering. I was excited for this dinner;  I was anxious to sit across from a couple I have come to deeply respect as parents. In my five years of being invited into this family as a piano teacher, I have observed a unique, refreshing, respectful, reciprocative relationship taking place. It was not uncommon to pull up to their house and find the kids sharing the front porch swing with their dad, listening to his stories of childhood. Conversely, it was not uncommon for my student's father to peer in on our piano lesson with tears in his eyes as he proudly listened to his son's newest piano piece.

The six of us sat down to dinner--my student's parents, my student and his sister, and me and Eric. We didn't waste much time before I cut to the chase:  "What advice do you have for me and Eric as we prepare for parenthood?" The conversation that followed proved to be touching and meaningful, and one of the highlights of my pregnancy so far. I listened as the teens shared what they appreciate and revere about their parents and the antidotes that have proved successful. The parents shared their  wisdom, pearls that have been polished and refined over time. Some of their advice was familiar to us: prioritize each other in marriage and assume a united front; honor a weekly or monthly date night; don't sweat the small stuff. But my student's father said this and is has resonate with us: Create a place of safety for your child. Teach them their identity as your child and the importance of their place in the home. (And here is the kicker), "do not let the greater culture capture your child. Because it will."

These words came from the mouth of someone who is retired from the Secret Service. There are photos in his house of him flanked by our nation's presidents. In other words, he knows a thing or two about safety. He was trained to stand directly in harm's way in order to protect what you love and what you believe in. He knows an evil that aims to steal, kill and destroy. The very word "capture" implies an element of surprise, like you didn't see it coming. He challenged me and Eric to make sure we do.  

I hope the common thread that I have woven through this series of blog posts is my value of family, tradition, belief, heritage. Of course I want our child to contribute to society and be an independent thinker. I hope he is compassionate, respectful and kind. (And I already know that he will be a pro golfer, a nobel peace prize recipient and a brain surgeon. Ha ha.) But more than anything, I hope we can teach what it means to be a child of ours, and a child of God. His identity is NOT defined by his place on the starting line-up or by what MTV deems sexy and cool. His place is on our porch swing, and safe within the concrete walls of our family. So while I plan on being a mom who is overjoyed when our son goes to Homecoming, I hope our son finds joy in simply coming home.