Crochety middle-aged people like me are sometimes overheard saying things like oh puh-lease. Kindergarten graduation? Give me a break. But when I saw the stack of hand-decorated mortarboards in Ezra's classroom, I knew this was the kind of celebration that didn't take itself too seriously.
In the run-up to the end of the school year I found myself more astounded by this kid Ezra is becoming than where-did-the-time-go nostalgic. He surprised me last week by taking over a Dr. Seuss book at bedtime and reading to me out of the blue. (And with that, Hop on Pop catapulted into first place in my personal ranking of books in the English language.) When he was a baby I used to stare at him and wonder who are you? and now every day he reveals a little more of himself.
The teachers told the parents to wait on the playground while the kids lined up for their processional. Suddenly 100 kindergarteners shuffled down the walkway, each wearing a paper graduation cap and holding a laminated piece of paper inscribed with one word, usually an adjective. One by one they passed the teacher with the microphone, stopping to hold up thier sign and say
I'm Sophie, and I'm curious!
I'm Ben, and I'm smart!
I'm Neveah, and I'm funny!
I'm Aiden, and I'm an artist!
And finally, here comes Ezra.
Engineer. Of course.
Afterward I asked his teacher where the words came from. She said we asked the kids to think of a word that describes who you are on the inside. And I laughed because I'm amazed to think Ezra knows himself so well at age five.
If he was finishing high school I might have given him that Dr. Seuss graduation classic, Oh The Places You'll Go but instead I wondered if I could possibly settle on one word that describes who I am on the inside.
Mother? Witness? Storyteller?
On Facebook last week, an old friend posted a letter from Hunter S. Thompson to someone who had asked him advice for finding your purpose. He wrote it when he was only 22, and while I don't tend to take advice from people who have barely escaped adolescence, the Good Doctor had an interesting perspective on finding and creating meaning even then.
...[Often] we set up a goal which demands of us certain things: and we do these things. We adjust to the demands of a concept which CANNOT be valid. When you were young, let us say that you wanted to be a fireman. I feel reasonably safe in saying that you no longer want to be a fireman. Why? Because your perspective has changed. It’s not the fireman who has changed, but you. Every man is the sum total of his reactions to experience. As your experiences differ and multiply, you become a different man, and hence your perspective changes. This goes on and on. Every reaction is a learning process; every significant experience alters your perspective.
So it would seem foolish, would it not, to adjust our lives to the demands of a goal we see from a different angle every day? How could we ever hope to accomplish anything other than galloping neurosis?
...[So] to put our faith in tangible goals would seem to be, at best, unwise. So we do not strive to be firemen, we do not strive to be bankers, nor policemen, nor doctors. WE STRIVE TO BE OURSELVES.
But don’t misunderstand me. I don’t mean that we can’t BE firemen, bankers, or doctors— but that we must make the goal conform to the individual, rather than make the individual conform to the goal. In every man, heredity and environment have combined to produce a creature of certain abilities and desires— including a deeply ingrained need to function in such a way that his life will be MEANINGFUL. A man has to BE something; he has to matter.
As I see it then, the formula runs something like this: a man must choose a path which will let his ABILITIES function at maximum efficiency toward the gratification of his DESIRES... In short, he has not dedicated his life to reaching a pre-defined goal, but he has rather chosen a way of life he KNOWS he will enjoy. The goal is absolutely secondary: it is the functioning toward the goal which is important.
This little ditty loops through my mind as I wonder where do I go from here? Does who I am on the inside match who I am on the outside? For Ezra, it may take years to know if the desire to build leads him to engineer. Hell, here I am, ostensibly a grownup still asking myself the same questions. I hope we both get to become who we are, most authentically and satisfyingly.
In the meantime, Ezra's making a beeline for summer vacation.
Some of my compatriots in this month's blog hop have much bigger adventures to report. Hope on over to Lindsey Garrett to see the epic GO she's documenting.