When my kids were young, I had this mental list of big life events that I would romanticize.
They would start talking and walking then running and driving. I remember dreaming about their futures and things like proms and graduation parties, feeling as if they were so far away. “The days are long but the years are short,” they say.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but somehow my oldest chick has just about crossed off every item on the above list of daydreams. As a matter of fact, as you’re reading this, we’re smack dab in the middle of our first two college visits.
*sigh* College.
In 10 months, my kid is moving out to start the second half of her life. When did that happen?!? The daydreams of traveling to schools with her has always been one of my favorites. As she mastered the developmental milestones and aged, I watched this one quickly come into focus on my checklist. It seems as if she skipped from 9th to 12th grade, to be honest, but I’ve always been excited about who my girls would become.
She’s always had a plan. She has grown up in glasses, having worn them since the age of 15 months. She had eye surgery when she was two, and I medicinally patched her for nine looonnnggg years. Since the age of five, she wanted to be a pediatric ophthalmologist. She used to tell people that she wanted a mobile eye clinic here so she could help kids see who couldn’t afford it or who couldn’t get to a doctor. And then she was asked during her junior year to dissect a frog in science class …
I was super excited when she told me one day that she had been doing some research and thought she would become a music therapist. I think she’ll do a fantastic job at that career. She’s patient and compassionate, loves music and is gifted in it. She’s a helper, as well, and loves people. I love the fact that she can work with a variety of populations and no two days have to be the same. Honestly, I think she’s going to be amazing.
Though starting the next chapter leaves me with anxiety and some bittersweet sadness, I am still very excited to see who she becomes. I’ve always encouraged my kids to expand their worldviews and to make life about experiences. The part I wasn’t prepared for was that she’s probably not going to stick around here. I always feared they’d leave the state because of lack of opportunity, but I never thought that would start with college. One of the biggest reasons I’ve pushed for economic justice here was so my kids wouldn’t have to leave the state to create a great life. And yet we’re touring two colleges in a neighboring state right now.
As sad as it makes me, I understand why she wants to leave. “I want to get out of here,” she says all the time. When the college talk started, I thought I had a strong argument for homegrown opportunities, but I didn’t. There is only one school in West Virginia that offers music therapy as a major, and I will not allow her to perpetuate the way West Virginians have of settling because the lack of opportunity holds more weight than their dreams.
If you keep up on the news, the last Census showed that West Virginia is losing young people by droves. And why not? I mean, it seems as if we have to fight for everything that is just here. “Mountaineers are always free” makes a great tagline, but it should come with an exceptionality clause stating that you’re only free here if you’re not poor, not a member of the LGBTQ+ community, not a person of color, etc., etc.
I can’t blame them for leaving. There won’t be many of us left when the coal’s all gone and the lights go out.
I used to say that I wanted to help transform our state into one that my daughters would love as much as I do. I should have known that it would take a hell of a lot longer than five years, but there was no way to see what was coming. I mean, who would have thought we would still be battling the same issues that we were battling when I started this work? And if we’re not fighting for them on the state level, our federal delegations make sure to keep the hits coming.
Don’t judge me when you don’t see me wearing the blue and gold next year. Instead, know that my kid was forced to leave because young people need wide open spaces to follow their dreams, and we keep building fences.
Onward,
Amy Jo
