First, they cried
Cowgirl Sass and Savvy

Julie Carter

When they shared with me that they had cried, I told them, "I cried, too."

Most were moms but some were dads. Some were parents of kids ready to wear a cap and gown this week or next. Many were still stinging from that memory last year, the year before or even many years ago.

The many responses to my column a couple of weeks ago about "Another generation at the door," discussing the weeks, days and hours leading to graduation, led me to understand how truly anticipated, yet dreaded the month of May is every year. And every year, I come to understand that even more.

First, it was my personal experiences that fed my emotions. Then it became what friends and family experienced. And now, it's vicarious annual pain through the lives of dozens.

Annually, I've been caught up in it because my job has me up close and personal to a number of teens ready to set the world on fire just as soon as they could get their moms to untie the apron strings. That's a trite old saying. Who has apron strings these days?

Then, those young darlings would move away and act as if they were charging to college classes with great anticipation while, in fact, they were challenging a world they had only heard about and often it didn't include a textbook.

Oh, come on, no matter what digit prefaces a numeral on your age, you know. You remember how dumb your parents were, how irritating your mother was when she made you wear clean underwear, iron your shirt and polish your shoes. Your age is irrelevant, although it might be a clue if the iron was plugged in or set on a wood stove to heat.

You remember wondering how your parents managed to get to that age and still be so clueless, so archaic and so totally not tuned-in to how things really are. They didn't understand you and you sure didn't understand them. However, come hell or high water, you weren't ever, ever going to be like them.

You recall how absolutely stupid the whole system was that held you captive for 12 years and now that you had escaped, you'd show them just how good you were at life without them regulating it.

Recently, for a number of causes, I've been sorting through acres of photos of all kinds. Concurrently, the fair book is about to go to press and there are hundreds of my photos there that will soon represent history for happy memories - last year. Each photo brings a flash of recall to a moment in time that won't happen again.

While the tendency is to look back on who and what was, the goal should be to look to the future and give those up-and-coming kids the same dedication that, at this time of year, feels slightly depleted.

Assuredly, there are some rising stars out there that will start high school next fall. They are waiting to be discovered, to be encouraged and to be recognized.

Undoubtedly a few mighty sophomores and juniors will start to shine and, Lord help us, another set of seniors who just can't wait to get out of here and away from all the stupid people. They all need us. So again, I will plug in the camera, charge up the flash batteries and buy a new set of note tablets.

OK kids, make me proud. I'm ready. It's a long time until next May.

Visit Julie’s Web site at www.julie-carter.com