Last night we trooped to Mondoville High for awards night for the graduating class. The Spawn sat with three of her best friends, and her fall roommate sat a couple of rows away. It was the sort of thing one would expect — kids were recognized in the program for scholarships they had earned, and were celebrated for various academic accomplishments. The Spawn was noted for her membership in Beta Club and the National Honor Society, and was one of only three or four kids out of a class of about 150 to earn what’s called an Honors diploma, awarded for a combination of strong standardized test scores and high grades in an academically demanding course of study.
Clearly, she gets that from her mom. From me, she gets a depraved sense of humor and an impressive ability to stay in bed and surf the web.
But I think one of the things that made me particularly proud and happy last night was how happy the Spawn was when her friends earned awards. When her buddies were called for individual achievements, I watched her face light up, and when they returned, she was quick to give hugs and congratulations, and showed a genuine interest in seeing the plaques or certificates in question.
At the reception afterward, she and her friends posed for pictures in the cafeteria, and I thought about the old, dark line: “It is not enough that I succeed; my brother must also fail.” Speaking from literal personal experience, that’s not a treat, nor was it anything I asked for. I’m proud of the Spawn for a lot of reasons — but one of the most satisfying ones is that she can be happy when her friends succeed.
Love you, kid.