random tuesday thoughts: helicopter parents

i was reading an article entitled "3 things you should never do for your child." now, i don't have any children, so this may seem odd for me to read. but i like to be prepared about these things.

but as i started reading the origination of "helicopter parent," i realize that by their definition, my parents were helicopter parents. i never felt this was the case, as i think my parents did a good job of supporting me, but keeping a respectful distance. they came to my tennis matches, softball games, and orchestra concerts, but they didn't insist that i play in every game (ever), and they didn't sit outside the door for every rehearsal. actually, given the choice, my mom would have waited in the car during all of my viola lessons, and never pressed me to give all the details afterwards. they wanted to be involved, but they wanted to give me a chance to grow up. 

but apparently the term "helicopter parent" came from parents who 'sweep in to rescue their children from the perils of higher education.' there are two such instances where this was the case for me.

credit

case #1. april, my freshman year. my parents and my aunt were coming up to visit for easter, and at 5am, i woke up to my roommate having vomited all over the floor, herself, books, etc. and she was naked in our room [she often was drunk, and was quite a disturbance for my academic pursuits, stole things from me, etc.]. i had a midterm exam that morning at 9am, and another class at 11am. my parents were to arrive around noon. and now my room was overwhelmed with the smell of vomit. 

i begged my roommate to help me clean it up (she didn't), but another girl on the hall did help. the room still reeked, as many of her belongings still had vomit on them. i got back from my first class, asked her if she would please clean the room up as my parents were going to be there in less than 2 hours. she cursed at me and rolled over in her bed. i was furious. 

i told my parents what was going on, and we went up to my room when the arrived. i had no idea what condition it would be in, but surprisingly it was as cleaned up as it could be and my roommate was MIA. the room still smelled gross. my parents pushed me to talk to the Residence Life staff (my RA was constantly MIA, so she was no help). usually if one roommate has an issue with the other, the plaintiff is the one to move rooms. It was April. I didn't want to get a new roommate somewhere else on campus for the last month of the semester. With my parents there to push, and my roommate's previous alcohol infractions in the dorm, she was required to move out that night. [i was an RA for two years in the same building, and i have never heard of another situation like this or even close to it, and most of the upper level ResLife staff hadn't either.]




case #2. november, my junior year. when i declared my major during my 1st semester of my freshman year, i was informed of what classes i had to take, among them were two math classes: Calc 1 and Calc 2. In the midst of me taking (and doing very poorly in) Calc 2, I was informed that that curriculum hadn't been approved yet, and since I declared before the approval, I needed to take Calc 1, and Stats/Probability. No Calc 2--good thing, because I got a C- in Calc 2, which means I would have had to take it over again. So I took Stats/Prob and got an A during the spring of my sophomore year. So we were good to go.


Then I was going to apply to the combined BA/MA program during my junior year. The new curriculum had been approved at this point, and anybody entering the BA/MA program would be on the new program (aka the Calc 2 route). I balked at this, and got everything approved by my department heads to be able to substitute Stats/Prob for Calc 2, so that I could just be on the new program to move forward with the Masters. I did everything I needed to so that there would be no problems when I went to the dean's office to change the curriculum. all on my own.


They had instituted this new online curriculum check-off system that put the required classes in, and they were checked off when you completed the class with a sufficient grade (C or above). They would use this to determine if you were eligible for graduation when the time came. I went to the dean's office, explained my case, provided all the appropriate documentation, and they said no problem. When the online system was updated, it didn't reflect that substitution. I went back to the dean's office, and they told me that I couldn't substitute a class (Stats/Prob) for a required class that I had gotten an insufficient grade in (Calc 2). I continued to explain that the head of the department/director of undergraduate studies in the department (aka the one who signs off on the curriculum and my graduation paperwork) had signed off on it, fully knowing that I had been jerked around curriculum-wise. They said there was nothing they could do, the system cannot be overridden in that case, and I would have to take Calc 2 over again.

No way. By this time, I was home for the weekend. I had to have knee surgery. I told my parents what was going on. I didn't want my parents to get involved, but I didn't want to take Calc 2 AGAIN even more. So, my dad sent an email to the same person I had been working with. I read it, it said nothing different than what I had already explained. By the following afternoon (when I got home from the hospital), they had suddenly found a way to override the system. I didn't have to take Calc 2 again. 


I spent weeks putting together my information, getting my ducks lined up, appropriate signatures, pleading my case. for nothing. My dad sent one email and it was fixed immediately. I mean, miraculously. 


---------
Both of these situations illustrate that having the one who pays the very expensive bill deal with a situation is necessary in some cases. These are the perils of higher education, not a mom advocating to a professor about why a college student should be allowed to re-take a test if he/she is sick (because that is wrong). If my parents hadn't stepped in, I would have had to move out because my roommate screwed me over. I would have had to take an extra class (over again, for no additional credit) that my department said i wouldn't have to (and he had SIGNED off on!). That could have hurt my ability to complete the BA/MA program on time, or it could have prevented me from an important summer internship to take it as a summer class. If that was the case, I probably would have taken the class in Summer 2006. And i would have missed out on the opportunity to meet the guy I'm going to marry this summer.


So if that means that my parents are 'helicopter parents,' i'm really happy about it. I don't think they fit in AT ALL with the current meaning of the phrase. because i do agree with the rest of that article-- you should not do your child's homework, you should not talk for them unless it's necessary, etc. 


what are your thoughts on helicopter parenting?

random tuesday thought: presentations & bicycle helmets

sometimes, these random thoughts come over me. and tuesday seemed like a good day for that. and apparently, a lot of other people think so, as it's a tuesday blog theme, started by The Un Mom (this is not a blog I often read, i just wondered if anybody else had random thoughts on tuesdays). but hey, it seems like a good idea. because sometimes these random thoughts are interesting memories that are somewhere in the back of my brain, and that maybe someday i'd like to remember or share. so don't feel obligated to read the randomness, if you're not interested. [i do realize my train of thought may be difficult to follow, but i promise it will all come together in the end]

so today i'm giving a presentation on 'time management and project planning.' two separate, but related topics. my audience is americorps program members for the program i was in 3 years ago. why they think i am qualified after 2.5 years of working in the workplace to give this presentation, i'm not sure.

but this all reminded me of the 'persuasive speech' i had to give in my 10th grade language arts class (side note: this was also the same class that i wrote a paper on multiple personality disorder). for some reason, i had no idea what to write/speak about, and my parents gave me an idea. i think i was too lazy to think of something else, so i was the 15-yeard old persuading my classmates that they should wear a helmet when riding their bikes. really cool, i know.

my dad even gave me the idea of bringing in a hard-boiled egg, and smashing it against the chalkboard during an especially intense point during my speech (the egg smashing went horribly awry and it ended up skidding across the chalk board and not even really cracking when it hit the floor). 


but i realize now, 11 years later, that i would persuade my peers today even more to wear a helmet when riding their bicycles. in that short time, i hear too much about people on city streets getting hit by cars (i lived in boston for 5 years, and i certainly was not going to ride a bike there), knowing people that have wiped out on a bike (someone who i used to work with recently fell on his bike and broke his hip), and one of the most terrifying experiences of my life revolved around a bicycle accident. [this is kind of a long story, so it may have to go over a couple installments]


back in 2006, when i was in ecuador, my friends/classmates decided during our trip to Banos, that we would bike down the Panamerican Highway. This is such a popular trip that many places in Banos offer rental bikes to make the 60 km (~37 mile) trip to Puyo. [side note: why did i think i could bike 37 miles in one day? and this was about 5 months after i had knee surgery]  when we started, the place we rented the bikes from said we could take helmets if we wanted, but said we didn't have to. we took helmets. they also instructed us that we could go around all of the tunnels except for the first one, which we would have to go through.


we got started, it was pretty intense downhill. my hands were clamped lightly on the brakes the whole time it seemed. it was beautiful. 

we got to the first tunnel. we could see the light on the other side. the Panamerican Highway is pretty busy, being one of the best maintained roads, and a major artery linking the highland cities of Ecuador and many South American countries. We waited for a break in traffic so that we wouldn't have a car or bus or truck coming up behind us while we went through this tunnel.


A truck entered the tunnel, and it looked pretty clear (there were two one-way tunnels, so we weren't going to encounter any on-coming traffic). I was the 3rd person in the group to enter the tunnel. It didn't look that long, but once we were in it, it was clear it was a pretty long tunnel. At one point, the truck blocked the exit of the tunnel, and it was pitch black in the tunnel. I was going too fast, and I didn't feel like I had control of my bike, and i heard a bump and a crash right behind me. I couldn't stop (the truck had exited, so I could see again), and i was close to the exit of the tunnel. We made it out and stopped on the other side.


My friend was walking her bike out, and I could just hear her saying "I'm fine.  I just have to get out of this tunnel." She was walking, that had to be a good sign. When she and the others emerged from the tunnel (all of the rest of them were walking), she said she just wanted to sit down. She sat down on the small strip of grass. We asked her if she was hurt, and she pointed to the spot between her neck and her shoulder. Another friend, pulled down her shirt collar, and it was apparent she was not okay. A huge lump had formed next to her neck, and it was black and blue. She tried to take her helmet off, we helped her. There was a huge skid mark on the side from where her head hit the pavement. She said she didn't feel good, turned pale white, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went unconscious.