When my son was in sixth grade, he looked at me one afternoon in our garage while I was unloading groceries and said something I never expected to hear. He said, “Mom, you’re not going to make me go to college, are you?”
I paused, unsure of the answer.
He was 12 years old. College wasn’t exactly around the corner, and I figured he’d change his mind a dozen times before then.
Looking back, he wasn’t telling me what he wanted to do. He was telling me who he was. School never energized him the way it would later energize his younger sister. He was always moving, talking to people, and happiest when he was doing something with his hands. While other kids thrived in a classroom, he came alive in fast-paced environments where he could jump in and work alongside others.
Like many parents, I had already written a script in my mind for what success was supposed to look like: graduate from high school, go to college, and build a career.
But what if he didn’t follow that path? What could that look like, and would he still be OK?
My son found his place in the trades
During high school, he started working in restaurants where he loved the pace, teamwork, and controlled chaos of a busy kitchen.
When COVID pushed school online, he accelerated his classes and graduated months ahead of his classmates. Instead of heading straight to college, he spent the next year working.
Then one June afternoon, my phone rang. When I picked up, he asked, “Mom, what’s my Social Security number?”
When I asked why, he casually replied that he was enrolling in our local community college’s culinary trade program. A one-year certification. He wasn’t asking what I thought. He had already made his decision.
Shortly after completing the program, he moved from Washington to Arizona to work in Scottsdale’s restaurant scene. My husband and I visited him more than once and watched him during dinner rush. It was exhilarating to see him working shoulder to shoulder with his teammates, completely in his element.
That’s when something shifted inside me. Not because he had become a chef. Because I realized he had become independent. He had learned a skill. He had developed confidence. He had proven to himself that he could walk into a new city, build a life, and support himself.
Years later, it was my daughter’s turn to plan her future
Her path couldn’t have looked more different. She chose an out-of-state Top 10 public university to study theater.
More than a few people questioned the decision to spend that kind of money on an arts degree.
By then, my son had already changed me. By then, I wasn’t asking whether my daughter’s decision was the safest choice.
Instead, I found myself wondering whether she was building a life that fit who she was. The answer was yes.
Watching one child pursue culinary arts, and another pursue theater, taught me that my job as a parent was never to steer them toward the life I imagined or the one others expected them to pursue.
My job was to help them become confident enough to pursue lives that fit who they are.
There’s a big question we parents should ask ourselves
Ironically, as I’ve been reflecting on all of this, my son called recently to say he’s thinking about a career change. After six years in restaurants, he told me he was ready for something new.
Years ago, I would have worried that changing direction meant he made the wrong choice. Instead, my first thought was, “You’re 22. You’re not stuck. This is your time to try different things.”
The years he spent in restaurants taught him discipline, resilience, teamwork, and how to earn a living. They helped him discover both what he loves and what he wants to explore next.
We spend so much time asking our children what they want to be when they grow up. Eventually, that question becomes, “Where are you going to college?” and “What’s your major?”
Those aren’t bad questions. But I think there’s a better one: “Am I helping my child become who they’re meant to be, or am I trying to shape them into who I expected them to become?”
Looking back, my sixth-grade son wasn’t asking me to lower my expectations. He was asking me to make room for his own.
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