What even are you doing?!?!

Recently, I had a very long talk with my oldest daughter about the importance of her education. This comes from a mother who quit high school, obtained a GED only days before her first child was born and made the life altering decision to return to school at the age of 28. It came from someone who has struggled with the dilemma that comes when there is so little food that she chose not to eat so that her children had full bellies. It came from someone who has stressed about bills that were at least a month behind. It came from too many years of stress and worry.

She knows that her education is important, she’s 17. She realizes she has some tough choices ahead of her and life changes that come with adulthood. I’ve not pushed her to get a job like some parents, I’d prefer to know she is focused at school and has her homework done and is able to manage her time in a way that will be reflected not just in her schoolwork, but in her behavior as well.

My daughter had every possible excuse as to why she was doing poorly in her math class, starting with her teacher. It was her teacher’s fault that she didn’t understand the work. When I suggested the learning center to her she exclaimed that it was too loud and she could never get the help she needed. She attends a top notch private high school. The learning center is at the disposal of any student who is struggling with a class. I suggested Google. Google wasn’t available to me as a teenager, but I’ve used it many times as an adult to find the answers to a multitude of questions. Her response was that she couldn’t find the right examples on Google. So I asked about other students in the class, surely some of them would have an understanding of the work. She had an excuse for that as well. I asked why she didn’t come to me for help. I can’t help with all of her math homework, I never took geometry, but I’m resourceful and I was never bad with math. She insisted I “never have time” or “can’t help”. Sometimes, I don’t have time when she asks because it’s often when I have both hands busy with dinner or admittedly, my mind is somewhere else. I do manage to make the time when they need help with homework though. Her boyfriend, who is a couple of years older than her offered his assistance, which she also refused. She was even offered the assistance of a school official. He offered to find another geometry teacher who could sit down with her somewhere quiet during her study hall.

With all of these options open to her, I thought that she could find some help, even if it wasn’t from me. Then yesterday, my beautiful daughter who will soon be an adult sent me an email saying that she failed her mid-semester math test. I am the calm and laid back parent. I am the parent who will speak softly and carefully to make sure my words are not just heard but understood. After I received that email I was a parent filled with rage. How is it possible she failed her test with all of the help available to her? Why wasn’t she utilizing her resources? Why was she trying to give me more excuses about why she couldn’t do the work? She has been given all of these fantastic resources and choices and excuse my language, but she is choosing to piss it away.

I had several hours to think and calm down before I picked her up. I used that time to think about how to handle this, to remind myself how all of the responsibilities of adulthood were weighing on me at that age even if they weren’t mine yet. I tried to step back a little and breathe. We sat down to talk when she got home and I let her know that it was probably a blessing for us both that I had time to think and cool down and just how upset I was. I wasn’t upset that she failed. She’s gotten a few bad grades throughout the years, which I never minded because I knew she had been trying and giving it her best. What made this time different? She wasn’t trying. I’ve seen her toss her hands up and say “I don’t get it. I give up.”

So came another talk about the importance of education. This talk though was more involved, not only is education important, but so is putting forth an earnest effort, doing the hard things that we sometimes don’t want to do. We both talked, we both listened, she cried some, but we both felt better after.

What did I really want to do when she told me that she had failed? I wanted to yell loud enough to rattle the windows, “What even are you doing?”.