Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
I grew up as a military brat in the 1980s and 1990s, attending schools on bases in Frankfurt, Germany, from 1st through 8th grades. My friends and I would attend school in Germany during the year and then go back to the United States of America for summer break, staying with relatives across the country. Because this was a time before widespread Internet use or social media, I wouldn’t speak to any of my friends until we returned to Germany for school.
While I can’t say that I spent a ton of time thinking about whether my friends would be there on the first day of school, I have to admit, there was a certain sadness when I got back for the first day of school and found out that a certain friend (or friends) was staying in the States because usually, I never saw that person again. You got used to that as a military brat; your friends could be there one year and be gone the next, as parents were stationed elsewhere or decided to let their kids stay with relatives for the school year wherever home was stateside.
But as I said, as a military brat in the ‘80s and ‘90s, I got used to it. It didn’t make it any less painful since, in most cases, I had no way of ever finding them, but it was an understood part of military life. As an adult, I’ve taken to Googling the names of school friends from middle school, especially, and have successfully found and reconnected with a few — and sadly, discovered that a few childhood friends had passed away. It’s natural to miss your friends when you have real bonds and have created real core memories together, especially when you’re a little kid.
That’s all I could think about this morning as my 9-year-old started his new school year as a 4th grader. He’s an amazing kid. He’s a great soccer player, smart, funny, and if he knows you and trusts you, will give you every part of his personality. His little friends are all like that. He has a crew of friends who have been together since kindergarten (most of them). Because of how his school operates, they’ve all been in the same class since kindergarten, so the bonds and the relationships are real and true. They’re…homies.
This year, my son’s fourth-grade year, his three closest friends — his homies — are going to different schools. And when I say different schools, I mean that all four of the kids are now at different schools. When you live in an area with as many good schools as we do in Washington, D.C., you constantly have to make decisions about the best choices for your kids’ education. Sometimes, that means you have to enroll your kids into different schools.
Lifestyle
As you can imagine, my son wasn’t looking forward to this school year the same way. For two of his friends, he knew they weren’t coming back; for one, he found out on the first day of school. As we took him to school for the first day, we could tell he was…alone. It’s not to say that he doesn’t have other friends in his class — he does. But there’s something about the homies. Even though he knew that two of them weren’t returning, the realization of standing in line at school, alone but in a group, looked deflating for him. He tried to smile. He tried to be happy, but I feel like he kept looking around hoping that what he knew to be true, wasn’t.
I feel for him. I know how much fun I had going to school with my crew of folks. We might not have been in the same classes, but between classes and before and after school were our times to hang and build our world. I know what it was like for a friend or two to not come back, but for all of my closest friends to not be there would be rough. I cried when I graduated from college because my very adult homeboys were all going to be in different places — and that was me as an adult and having the ability to process my feelings and means to see my friends whenever time permitted. My son and his friends have to rely on us parents finding a way to ensure they get to still be friends. Sure, with iPads and games like Roblox, they still talk to one another, but my kids can’t even use their iPads during the week; their relationship will be largely confined to whenever they’re at home on weekends.
I told my wife, who was understandably very emotional about our son’s new elementary school life without his friends, that we just have to make sure we get them together as much as possible and remind him that his friends aren’t gone, just not at the same school. Also, we have to remind him he still does have friends at school even if they’re not the main group. Still, I understand her emotional reaction. Honestly, it breaks my heart a little. You want your kids to be OK and you want them to get to school on the first day and be excited about what lies ahead. You definitely don’t want them starting a school year sad.
I also had to remind my wife that a year ago, we were the parents trying to decide if we were going to enroll our kids in another school and though we ultimately decided to stay put, we seriously considered moving schools. Essentially, we considered creating the same situation for our kids at a new school for our very personal reasons.
I’m sure my son will be fine; he knows all of his classmates and I’m sure once the newness of it all sets in, all will be well. As a parent, though, I can’t help but wonder how he’s feeling and what he means by the things he won’t say. I want my son to be OK because that’s all that matters.
Now if you’ll excuse me, let me look at this insane schedule of school and soccer and see when these kids can get together so they can be back like they never left.
Panama Jackson is a columnist at theGrio and host of the award-winning podcast, “Dear Culture” on theGrio Black Podcast Network. He writes very Black things, drinks very brown liquors, and is pretty fly for a light guy. His biggest accomplishment to date coincides with his Blackest accomplishment to date in that he received a phone call from Oprah Winfrey after she read one of his pieces (biggest) but he didn’t answer the phone because the caller ID said “Unknown” (Blackest).
