The end had come. My daughter had burst out of her middle school cocoon and had wings on full display for high school. This remarkable milestone is ironically marked not by jubilation, but restlessness.
The friends she’d become besties with are resetting as they all have different pursuits and destinations. Some of the friends she’d tolerated out of necessity in the past two years will fall away. Some of the folks she’d never hung out with at school, she won’t even remember after the summer. There’s only a handful that will move forward with her to the same school. How will things change? It’s like a repeat of graduating from grade to middle school, except high school is a much bigger pond.
But what preoccupies my daughter’s mind before the big plunge into high school as a minor-niner, is the uncertain expectation of the unknown. Not surprisingly, these concerns are focused on the same categories of insecurity: physical, social and intellectual.
Let’s tackle the easy one first: intellectual. My daughter has heard from her peer group (some of whom have entered high school in the year previous) that high school is much more vigorous academically with weekly assignments, group work, mini tests, midterms and finals that require original thinking. What used to pass for effort is frowned upon as ordinary and uncreative, which barely deserves a C+. This is akin to us adults hired into a new job and we hope and pray that nothing falls outside our area of expertise! This will pass as high school is the great equalizer. Some will do unquestioningly well; others will drop out. It’ll be evident in the first semester.
The only way to prepare for the unexpected is not to; there is no way to anticipate an infinite number of outcomes. I told her that she’s smart enough, confident enough and social enough to find quick allies in any situations.
The physical aspect of a high-schooler is more than just physiology. Setting aside the acne, BO and other unpleasant side effects of puberty that everyone is undergoing, there’s also the expectation to dress, talk and act smartly and come across with inquisitive confidence, not an ignorant know-it-all. How my daughter was perceived in middle school will be a predictor of how she’ll be perceived in high school.
The final and arguably the most confounding stressor is the social aspect of high school. Not unlike middle school where drama amongst cliques was at an all-time high, high school drama is further distorted by Netflix and social media. There have been times where I had to pulled my daughter down to earth from her lofty imaginings that her phone is for calling her old man; a physical key is for opening the front door when I am not home; and a transit card is for taking public buses if and when I am not able to be her chauffer. She’ll need to manage her image and projections to different external groups while staying tethered to me and remaining self-assured without being perceived as unapproachable or risk being cancelled.
My suggestion to my daughter is consistently and remarkably simple. The only way to prepare for the unexpected is not to; there is no way to anticipate an infinite number of outcomes. I told her that she’s smart enough, confident enough and social enough to find quick allies in any situations. She braved the Grade One days when she once told me that she didn’t want to leave kindergarten because those kids seem so much bigger and taller. She was apprehensive about entering middle school where she knew not a single soul as none of her primary school friends went to the same school. High school is just another step into the same, ‘familiar unknown.’ Eventually, this step across the threshold will also be insignificant compared to moving to residence of a university. Or her first job in a new city.
It is exciting. It is terrifying. It is a rite of passage. And it is a journey without end.
