Datebook: October 22 2009

As a mother it is hard to know when to stop, well, mothering.

With children now 20 and 21 it might seem a moot point to some. But life is not that easy. Fifty years ago when a young lad graduated from high school, he was considered a man, one capable of earning a living and supporting a family. Until 1972, when there was finally an equitable education act passed in Congress that offered financial aid to both males and females, young women were expected to "keep" house and raise families well before they reached twenty.

Most of us would shudder to think of our children, with two years left on their teenage timecards, buying a duplex and having baby showers planned in their honor.

Still, the lines of being able to "stand on your feet" have become blurred to the point of looking like a French impressionist's painting. And maybe this is helped by the fact that mothers really don't want to hand the keys over for keeps.

Okay, I've accepted that I am a type A personality. Okay, I'm a type A in a 40-point font typeset. But only a few people see that as a negative trait (or so I'm told).

When my daughter "moved" to Philadelphia to train at age 14, it required a round trip commute of 150 miles five times a week. In summers, she physically lived in various settings so she could be on the ice at 5:30 a.m. until 11:00 a.m. and then train at the gym, in ballet, and in ballroom for most of the afternoon. These were hard times for me -- the mother me. Not because I worried about what she would eat, or when she would go to bed. She always bypassed fries, Twinkies, and giant muffins for salads, protein, and fruit. I fretted that she would somehow move on a bit without me, that I would blink and she would find some new style that rendered her unfamiliar.

Some families worry about the new stepmom or the new stepfather in their children's lives. Skaters' moms worry about the coaches who become the most important being. Everything soon takes on a new cycle, as decisions big and small must be run-by the coach -- when to take vacations, can you take a vacation, can you have part of July 4th off, and can we go skiing for the day?

When my daughter selected a college, the choices were not made the typical way. She drew a 5-mile radius from her training rink and applied to the institutes of higher learning that fell within a 10-mile radius. When the acceptance letters came in, I did some "mothering" and guided her toward the small private Jesuit University. In truth, her freshman year she was prouder to wear her Team USA jacket than sport the Hawk sweatshirt.

Once my daughter decided to take some time off from competitions, she embraced the ideals of her school and I basked in the glow that all was good in the world.

This changed two weeks ago when my daughter called to tell me her Finance professor had lost the class set of midterms she had just taken. Well, not all the tests. Just the thirty tests from the students who had taken them on the scheduled date and time. The five students who had whined and asked to take it later had been more fortunate; the professor hadn't tossed theirs. Instead of being contrite, the professor told the 30 students he was forcing to take a re-test two weeks later to basically suck it up, it wasn't as if their mother had died or something.

Perhaps it was the mother reference.

I did try to fight it.

"Why don't you call the dean?" I asked my daughter. She just shook her head. "But you go to a school that preaches ethics," I advised her. "It's the one reason I wanted you to go there."

I am in the field of education. You cannot place one student at a disadvantage over another student; you must grade students equally, using equitable assessments. My daughter and cohorts were being forced to retake a new test, one proffered to be a harder test, while five could stand on their grades, and basically get the added benefit of having two weeks to focus on new material without the pressure of retaking a test in a class that uses 2 exams to calculate the grade for the semester.

It was inevitable that I would email the dean.

I probably mentioned my daughter's tuition was approximately the price of 8 months of ice-dance training. I am confident I pointed out the hypocrisy of a professor punishing students for his error by forcing them to study for another mid-term that he thought might in all probability be more difficult. I am pretty sure my tone implied "no one leaves Baby in the corner."

He wrote back. He advised me "This is the first I've heard of the matter. I'll look into it."

And that was the last I heard.

Today my daughter took exam. After the original exam she had called to tell me she had "aced it" and I could hear the pride in her voice as if she had completed 4 perfect patterns of the Killian.

Today I heard the disappointment in her voice. The disappointment was not just in the fact that her grade would probably be lower (certainly lower than the five or six kids who got version one) but disappointment in the fact that she discovered one of the biggest flaws of humankind: those that can abuse power often do.

As a mother it is hard to know when to stop "mothering."

Perhaps my letter to the Dean's mother will get better results.


-Mombo