A rite of passage marks a transition from one level of maturity to another, for example in early tribal societies, a rite of passage might have been when a boy was considered to have become a man, when his skills were developed to a near adult level, perhaps when he first spent time in the wilderness with only his skills to enable him to survive.
In our modern society, there are dramatically different rites of passages that a boy must overcome to reach another level and another and yet another. There are many such as learning to ride a bike, hitting and throwing a ball, taking care of his personal needs, learning to tie his shoes, using the TV remote, getting a driver’s license, learning to share and so on, ad infinitum. One hallmark rite is the first day of school, a universal rite shared by every child but also one that each parent, especially the mother, must face.
The boy, an only child, got his share of attention and more. He was the center of family life, loved and cared for to the extreme if that is possible. One might say he was pampered yet he did know his limits. His parents, middle class and educated, were not overly indulgent but when it came to their son’s needs or perceived needs, they were more than likely willing to make reasonable sacrifices to satisfy them. The father worked, but the mother was mostly in the home as the principal caregiver. Both parents adored their offspring, but the mother naturally seemingly was more emotionally connected. If the son had a hurt, a disappointment, a need, Mama was his first choice he turned to for support.
The first grade was not a totally new experience for him; he had been in day care programs but going to the “big” school with large numbers of students was rather challenging yet exciting for him. He already knew some of the fundamentals expected of his age group such as letters, numbers and such but, still, he was going to be in a far different world the day he entered “real” school. His mother wondered and even worried about this but ready or not, the day arrived.
He had everything, new backpack, pencil, notebook, crayons and whatever else was required. His mother had him ready at least as far as the materials things were concerned, but she herself was less ready; she wondered if this was going to be one of those “don’t leave me, Mama” days when she left him at the classroom door. She was not absolutely sure of her own emotional state of mind either when he would turn to leave her for this rite of passage, the first day of years of departing for another life apart from Mama’s careful eye.
She dreaded the moment when the two departed the car to enter the school this first day. This would be the ultimate test for her and she thought for him too. But she was in for a surprise, a bitter sweet one at that.
The two were greeted by other children who had already arrived and many were on the playground running around excitedly. As the two neared the entrance, the son without a word, suddenly ran from his mother’s reach and immediately joined his friends whom he knew from play school. What she had feared, an emotional departure, never materialized, and she was glad but in a way, a little disappointed.
Although she would never admit it, but secretly she hoped he would at least have some difficulty in telling her goodbye as she left him alone, but instead, he simply ran off happily and in a sense ignoring her.
A new chapter had begun in his (and her) life, and it was good.
Maybe it was not so good for Mama who was left alone with her thoughts of her little boy now “growing” up and without his constant need for her to hold his hand.
But she accepted that independence was necessary, and that this ‘passage’ was indeed ‘right’ for all.
*
Bill Lee
PO Box 128
Hamer, SC 29547
Rite Of Passage
Related Posts
The Family
There are at least two kinds of love, tender and tough. Most of the time we employ the former; sometimes tough love is necessary.