Speak to Me Sunday: What to Expect from Your High School Senior when Choosing a College

This week Timothy, received two college letters inviting him to sign up for a college campus visit. Yes, he's only in the tenth grade, but ... sophomore today, senior tomorrow. We know this time flies by quickly. Admittedly, he was excited. Timothy read both letters and asked a million questions. Is it a good college? Where is it? Do they have an engineering program? Will I live in a dorm? A few years ago he watched his two older brothers go through the process (and was even dragged to several campus visits) so he's excited about it finally being his turn (whether or not I'm ready is an entirely different matter). Yes, it's an exciting time, but it's also time for the nitty gritty of finances, logistics, and yes, even practicality. One decision at a time ...

It's been a summer of college campus tours, all of which have been fun, informative, and have shown our son a future bright with opportunities. It was our way to showcase the great big world out there, and to have our son see himself as a vibrant part of it.

I realize this may sound idealistic, perhaps even naïve, but knowing what is out there is a great place to start. It’s great to have choices (they are gifts!) but we also know choices need to be whittled down because, ultimately, decisions need to be made.  

This, then, is the nitty gritty part of life in which we ponder, weigh, compare, analyze, formulate, calculate, and question. So, while we want our son to reach for the stars, we also want to teach him the practical aspects on how to navigate in order to get there. And there are so many things to take into consideration.

First and foremost, finances. Our son has a good life. He lives in a nice house, he goes to a great school, he has traveled to Europe, and he has a loving, supportive family. But part of being a good steward of God’s gifts is not taking anything for granted, and my husband and I are not going to just hand him four years wrapped up with a nice, neat bow; rather, he is very involved in the financial aspects of his college education and knows that he's expected to contribute. 

Location is another consideration. How far away is too far away, and how close is too close? We laugh about this sometime, and on bad days Joe and I think, Alaska is good. We also have to consider that fact that Georgia offers the Hope Scholarship (tuition is mostly covered if a certain grade point average is maintained), and while this is a huge incentive for choosing to stay in-state, it’s just that, an incentive, and not a done deal.

Then there is gut instinct, that visceral reaction which should never be ignored.  There have been campus visits in which, right away, we just didn’t feel it. It wasn’t something specific, just a feeling. On the flip side, we knew we were on to something when we heard our son say, “I can see myself going here.”

Oh, there is more to decide and consider. We could go on and on about student loans, meal plans, early admission … and on it goes.

On our dining room table is a huge black box with hanging files containing scholarship information, application deadlines, essay prompts, and test scores. The nitty gritty in all its glory. We look at the box, and yes, each of those files is calling for a decision to be made, but here’s the thing: we don’t need to make all the decisions at once.

Know what, then see where.

Decide where, and then work on the how.

And through it all we pray, which helps the nitty gritty not seem so … nitty gritty.

college: two sons down, one to go

Timothy, following his older brother

graduation day at Clemson University

Transitions

"Now, don't cry when we start carrying his things out of here," said the man from Atlas Van Lines. "The first one out of the house is hard."


Well, I'm not crying . . . yet.


But it is a strange feeling. As I'm typing this, perfect strangers are packing, sorting, and wrapping our son's things into boxes and loading them into a large Atlas moving truck parked in front of our house. After twenty-two years it's all going: the furniture, clothes, art supplies, television, video games, board games, cleaning supplies, posters, and books.


There are more books than anything -- from Dostoyevsky to Naruto -- and, more than anything, I think it's the books that have caused a lump in my throat. Nicholas is the only one in the family who shares my love of reading, and through the years we've exchanged novels and have had wonderful conversations about some of the books we've read.


It's all happening so fast. Today is Nicholas' last day in Denver, tomorrow he flies home, and on Sunday he and Jonathan will drive out to Little Rock, Arkansas. Joe, Timothy, and I will follow a few days later to help Nicholas move in, after which the four of us will say goodbye and go on a little road trip.


I know some may see the finality of a child moving out as an ending, but I like to see it as a transition. There will be a shift in our family dynamics, and certainly a period of adjustment, but it will also be a springboard to new beginnings, traditions, and adventures.


Just the same, though, I think I'll keep a box of tissues nearby.

48 Hours

This past weekend my husband and I flew to Little Rock, AR with our eldest son who will be moving there in a month to begin work. We had 48 hours to explore the city, find an apartment, and get a feel for the area. We had 48 hours to stake our claim in a city in which we had never visited and where we didn't know a single person. We had 48 hours to do as much as we could to lay the foundation for a new beginning for our son.


And within the span of that 48 hours we also planned to attend Mass Saturday night. There were many Catholic churches in Little Rock, so once Nicholas signed the lease for his apartment we Googled nearby churches and arbitrarily picked one to attend.


Here's what I envisioned (hoped!) would happen: We'd walk into a church with lots of young people -- people my son's age! -- and he would feel welcomed and excited about joining a new parish. Maybe even someone would even come up and speak to him and tell him about a Bible study or a young adult group.


Instead, here's what happened: We walked into the church, and of the 40 people in attendance Joe and I were the youngest which, as you can imagine, was not a good sign for Nicholas.


It was definitely not how I would have planned things. Not. At. All.


But as I knelt in the quiet of the church before Mass started, I wrapped myself in the comforting traditions of our faith and unburdened my soul to God.


I gave Him everything -- my hope, fears, doubts, and tears. I told Him how proud I was to have a son primed and ready to go forth into this world, but at the same time confessed how letting go is so contrary to a mother's heart. I gave Him my confidence in my son's intelligence and maturity, but also my fears of him being in a city of strangers.  I asked for patience with the arrogance of youth (of which we have all been guilty) who think they can go it alone and often forget that seeking advice, asking for help, or kneeling before God is not a sign of weakness, but of strength.


And then came the homily. The priest, who was originally from Vietnam, told the story of his last few months in seminary when he was consumed with worry on how he was going to buy a chalice for his ordination. He knew his family back in Vietnam could not afford it, and as a seminarian on scholarship with no funds of his own he didn't know what to do. He told no one of his dilemma. Then one day a priest teaching in the seminary informed him that an elderly priest from another parish had died and that his family wanted his chalice to go to a seminarian. Would he like to have the chalice?


Sitting in that nearly empty church in a strange city, listening to this story of a man who followed his vocation to live among strangers, I realized that there are times in our life when God has given us that chalice -- such as the moment He provides exactly what we need at the exact moment when we need it, or when He gives us something we didn't even realize we needed, or when we don't know how to ask for something and He gives it to us anyway.


I also realized that maybe, just maybe, God brought us to that church not for Nicholas (the way I wanted it to happen), but for me.

Somewhere in Italy

(photo taken by my cousin)

Getting Down to the Nitty Gritty

Yesterday I wrote about our summer of college campus tours, all of which have been fun, informative, and have shown our son a future bright with opportunities. It was our way to showcase the great big world out there, and to have our son see himself as a vibrant part of it.

I realize this may sound idealistic, perhaps even naive, but knowing what is out there is a great place to start. It’s great to have choices (they are gifts!) but we also know choices eventually whittle down until, ultimately, decisions need to be made.  

This, then, is the nitty gritty part of life in which we ponder, weigh, compare, analyze, formulate, calculate, and question. So, while we want our son to reach for the stars, we also want to teach him the practical aspects on how to navigate in order to get there. And there are so many things to take into consideration.

First and foremost, finances. Our son has a good life. He lives in a nice house, he goes to a private school, he has traveled to Europe, and he has a loving, supportive family. But part of being a good steward of God’s gifts is not taking anything for granted, and my husband and I are not going to just hand him four years wrapped up with a nice, neat bow; rather, he is very involved in the financial aspects of his college education. He knows we will help (a lot), but he also knows that there is the entire family to consider and that he has another brother who is just behind him. He knows that he has to do his part.

Location is another consideration. How far away is too far away, and how close is too close? We laugh about this sometime, and on bad days Joe and I think, Alaska is good. We also have to consider that fact that Georgia offers the Hope Scholarship (tuition is mostly covered if a certain grade point average is maintained), and while this is a huge incentive for choosing to stay in-state, it’s just that, an incentive, and not a done deal.

Then there is gut instinct, that visceral reaction which should never be ignored.  There have been campus visits in which, right away, we just didn’t feel it. It wasn’t something specific, just a feeling. On the flip side, we knew we were on to something when we heard our son say, “I can see myself going here.”

Oh, there is more to decide and consider. We could go on and on about student loans, meal plans, early admission, study abroad possiblities … ay, ay, ay.

On our dining room table is a huge black box with hanging files containing scholarship information, application deadlines, essay prompts, and test scores. The nitty gritty in all its glory. We look at the box, and yes, each of those files is calling for a decision to be made, but here’s the thing: we don’t need to make all the decisions at once.

Know what, then see where.

Decide where, and then work on the how.

And through it all we pray, which helps the nitty gritty not seem so … nitty gritty.

Novajosky News: Nicholas' Turn

As an English major/Spanish minor at the University of Georgia, I can say that for every time I stayed up late to finish a paper or research Faulkner’s stream of consciousness writing technique, there were just as many days when I sat under an oak tree discussing Shakespeare or attended a play in order to write a review for the paper; in other words, I remember those days as being pleasantly ensconced among writers and poets and totally devoid of undue stress.

Fast forward a few years and I find myself comparing my college experience with Nicholas’ as he pursues an engineering degree from Clemson University. Here’s what I’ve discovered: engineering is not for wimps and, most definitely, doesn’t include Shakespeare. For Nicholas, the past four years meant many late nights at the library, or marathon study sessions with friends, or working on group design projects. The past four years meant engineering internships every summer and during two Christmas breaks, and then afterwards sitting down with Joe and discussing what he could financially contribute to his tuition.

He’s a hard worker, is our son.

This is not to say that the past few years haven’t been fun. He will graduate this June with many wonderful memories:  the weekend trips to the beach or to Athens, GA to visit friends, the traditional bar crawl when he turned 21, the trivia contests at the pub and, of course, those Clemson football games and watching (on his birthday no less!) the Clemson Tigers win the National Championship. So he definitely had fun, but never at the expense of his studies.

And now here we are, his senior year. This past fall, in the midst of working on a senior design project and maintaining a 4.0 GPA, he diligently submitted resumes and interviewed at job fairs on campus. Then, between homework assignments, oral presentations and a hectic exam schedule, he had a few follow-up interviews which not only involved driving to Augusta (once) and Charlotte (twice), but also flying out to Denver, CO where he had his first “white board” interview which involved using the board to solve problems given to him during the interview. Right there, on the spot.

I broke out in a sweat just hearing about it.

He never wore a suit as often as he did this past semester, and he never called home as much as he did during those days before and after each interview. There were many things to consider, plan, and discuss: he could see himself working in Charlotte, he liked the people he would be working with in Augusta, and he really, really liked the company in Colorado. Also, he wondered in one phone call, would it be okay to fold his suit in a small carry-on?

By December he received two job offers, and earlier this month he signed a contract with the company out in Denver, Colorado. We couldn’t be more excited for him. This May he will find out where he will be located (we're hoping Nashville, TN, or it could be Washington D.C. or even Salt Lake City, Utah) and in June he will begin work after a two week training session at their headquarters in Denver.  And so far the company has been very good to him. A week after signing with them Nicholas received a beautiful, high end laptop backpack in the mail with a personal note welcoming him to the company and, just this past week, company recruiters visiting campus took him and a few students out to dinner.

As parents, nothing is more gratifying then seeing our son make his way in the world, and we are excited these doors of opportunity are being opened to him.  I have always referred to Nicholas as my “Renaissance Man” because his interests and talents are so varied: he’s very good at engineering and math, but he is also a voracious reader; he plays the guitar, follows politics and world affairs, goes to church every Sunday, and is teaching himself how to paint; he is presently taking a basic law class because he thought it would be interesting; and he’s very witty and adored by his baby brother.

It’s the bittersweet truth that children grow up in a heartbeat, and I could never have imagined, all those years ago when I sat under the oak tree discussing Shakespeare, that I would one day have a son who is poised to go off into the world as a young man. It’s exciting, gratifying, heartwarming.

It’s incredibly humbling.