It's an Honor

The week before my oldest daughter graduated from high school, I went to the honors assembly for the senior class. Another rite of passage, another chance to remember her childhood and to help her transition to the great things that are to come.

The other parents and I shared the gym’s bleacher section for the two hour ceremony. I was surprised that I recognized so many parents and how many members of the class of 2012 I have gotten to know. There were lots of special awards, and while there were a few kids who took home several, in general the faculty seemed to have done a pretty good job of spreading the wealth. Kelsey went forward to receive a special stole for her participation in the honors society and a special cord signifying her graduation as the first class of the district’s Spanish immersion program. I don’t know if she expected something more or something else, but I was pretty sure she wasn't up for anything else. She’s a very talented kid, but she’s not the kind of kid that gets awards. She pursues many interests and has never dedicated herself to being the best in any area.

I’m proud of many of the kids who did receive awards; they are a talented and deserving lot. Awards are great, and certainly a reason for pride and celebration. But they aren’t necessarily an indicator of future success.  Kelsey is going to do just fine in life, even without the endorsement of her high school teachers. She’s smart, well-spoken, creative, and has a good heart and a great capacity for joy. In my book, she’s already a success, and her dad and are proud of her.

The day after Kelsey’s honors assembly, my husband, Bill, got an email message from someone who knew him in high school. I didn’t know Bill in high school, but I know him pretty well now. He’s told me that back then he was into sports and was especially talented in tennis. He carried some of the typical jock arrogance but still had lots of friends, and while he had a robust social life, he had little interest in academics.

So out of the blue this high school classmate, friends with some of Bill’s Facebook friends, saw his picture and sent a friend request. He hadn’t known Bill well, but he remembered that Bill was a talented tennis player who was also gracious. He also remembered a time when Bill’s mother saved him from a bully, breaking up a fight and dragging the trembling bully home to his mother. Clearly Bill and his mom had made an impression on this guy, enough that he would retell the story several decades later.

The funny thing is, Bill has no memory of this particular classmate. Even finding his picture in an old yearbook sparked no recognition. 

What an amazing gift: that someone—a virtual stranger—would remember your positive attributes years later, and take the time to tell you.

While I know that Kelsey can be sassy and stubborn and sometimes unthinking, I also have seen in her acts of graciousness that take my breath away. She has a great capacity for kindness, and each day I see it grow. And this is my wish for my daughter: that when people from high school remember her, they remember her not for her grades or her awards or for the roles she played in musicals—all the things that have seemed so important over these past four year. But I hope she is remembered as a person with integrity, a person who is willing to stand up for what’s right, a person who treats others with kindness and respect. That’s the real prize, and the key to a life well lived. I’m proud to say she’s well on her way.