It’s a Wrap for Ryan at Lake Elementary

His pick-up directions were neatly written out on a school bus shaped note and pinned to his bright yellow shirt.  With the official school book bag over his shoulder and a Lego Chima lunch box in hand, Ryan posed for pictures on his first day of kindergarten. He grinned a nervous smile and displayed several missing teeth.  Equal parts excited and terrified, our first born was off to school.

Now at the end of fifth grade,  the Chima minifigures are buried deep in the Lego bin and the baby teeth all gone. The fifth grade smile is full of adult teeth and confidence, both of which have grown in his time at Lake Elementary.  The book bag that was required in kindergarten has been replaced with a worn-in backpack adorned with a collection of key chains representing his life adventures. As he heads out the door, he grabs his Captain America baseball cap and trusty Rubik’s cube, which he learned how to solve earlier this year.

Six years.  Almost exactly half of his lifetime; roughly one-eighth of mine. Mathematically, it makes sense that Ryan’s first day of kindergarten feels like a lifetime ago to him; but just yesterday for me. Six years and six grades. Six years of new teachers, routines, and schedules.  Six years of navigating the playground at recess. Six years of being asked, “What did you do at school today?” at dinner. In that six years, we can measure Ryan’s growth in height, academics, and social skills, while also noting other changes. Back in kindergarten there was no Little League baseball, piano lessons, or ravenous fondness for Jersey Mike’s subs. The local  indoor trampoline economy was just getting off the ground. (Pun intended.) Perhaps most importantly, Dad was still the best video gamer in the house.

While the kids are learning, school forces the parents to grow up as well.  When I think about the activity of school drop off, it’s indicative of giving Ryan more freedom. Our kindergarten mornings starting with us walking up to the gate.  I would be stopped by the gatekeeping monitor and Ryan would queue in the appropriate line for his class. Standing outside the chain link fence, I would supervise my five year-old as he stood still waiting for school to start. Not sure what I was watching for or what I could do; I guess it was the last grasp of control I had.  Something about having visual contact was comforting. As soon as the first bell would ring, Ryan disappeared into the classroom and my helicopter parenting duty was complete. As the school year went on, I would make conversation with the other clingy parents. I remember telling one dad that I thought the craft beer scene had reached its saturation point. (This was 2013–oops.) What can I say: school is a place you should learn from your mistakes.  

As Ryan progressed through the grades, Jenni and I  were along for the ride. We attended plays and performances.  I still occasionally belt out my favorite song from the kindergarten sing-a-long: “Remember the seed in the little paper cup. First the root goes down and the plant grows up.” (It’s not nearly as cute when I do the accompanying hand motions.) We supported homework projects like the George Washington’s  “Hero in a Bag” and Benjamin Franklin’s wax museum. Jenni regularly volunteered and crafted door decorations for Teacher Appreciation Week.

In supporting Ryan’s academic process, we continued to encourage him to volunteer more often.  In the younger grades, Ryan wouldn’t jump at many chances. When we would ask Ryan why he didn’t participate in a particular activity,  he would cavalierly reply, “Oh, I didn’t raise hand.” Over the last few years Jenni and I continued the conversation with Ryan about putting himself out there.  Making progress, in Ryan’s fifth grade year he participated on Safety Patrol, Student Leadership, Video Broadcast Team as well as several clubs. It’s not the resume-building were proud of, it’s that our somewhat stubborn son had learned that sometimes it’s good to say “yes.”

Chatting with another dad before the Fifth Grade Promotion ceremony, we had the middle-age “We didn’t have elementary graduation when I was a kid” conversation. Granted we may over-celebrate and over-document what was previously more routine. (“It’s not a graduation. He’s moving from the fourth grade to the fifth grade.” -Bob Parr, The Incredibles) That being said, it’s a moment in time of which he is aware. Ryan didn’t have a school bus shaped note pinned to his shirt on the last day of fifth grade, but it was still worthy of picture. And as I look at the two photos, it’s hard to believe it’s the same boy. He was the seed in the paper cup–I can’t watch the plant grow, but it’s happening all the time.