Reality Check

My son texted me that he had gotten an HIV test.

Normally this would not be something that a mother finds amusing or brags about, but under these circumstances I do not mind talking about it.  My son is majoring in sociology while also working his way through a curriculum that trains substance abuse prevention professionals.  These days, the last few classes he must complete before graduation are quite raw.  They are the reality TV version of college; his days with sitcoms and variety shows are over.  During the last few quarters, he has taken classes in drug policy, teen suicide prevention, street crimes, drugs and the law, sex/drugs/media, criminology and law enforcement, and prisons and prison culture.

When I walk around my house and see the photos of my beautiful little boy growing up, I remember him as a sweet kid who always had a smile on his face.  He made friends easily; as he grew up he was a loyal friend who would always bail out a buddy in need.  Although we tried to steer him clear of life’s underbelly, he was always fascinated by what goes on outside the boundaries of our prim little town.  He was never blind to the privileges of his circumstances, or to the deficits of others'.   It was only a matter of time before he realized his calling was to lend a hand to others who need help.

Now I struggle with a mixture of mother’s protectionism and pride.  I think most parents would love to spare their children from ever having to witness crime and desperation.  On the other hand, I am proud that my son recognizes the wounds on society and is stepping up to do his share.  This term, he is beginning internships with an ex-prisoner mentoring program and a youth shelter for at-risk adolescents.  To pursue these opportunities, my son has been subjected to a lengthy background check.  And now for one of his classes he has to get an HIV screening test and write a paper about the experience, highlighting the first-person psychological aspects of interacting with the system as a “client.”  The unintended consequence is that I am also drawn into his experience, sharing not only his anxiety in waiting for the resolution of these matters, but also feeling the pain of anonymous mothers everywhere who are forced to deal with the more unfortunate realities that befall their children because of crime and drugs.  My heart aches.

But there is a silver lining.  What do we parents know of our kids’ lives while in college?  Indeed, what did our own parents know of our own college escapades?  So when the serendipity of life offers up a government background check and a health screening, I sigh with relief.  He passed with flying colors.

Tomorrow's blog:  Exotic Elixir