The Accepting Parent: the adventure of Accepted Students Day

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Over the years, dear readers, it's been my pleasure to be your guide to all things collegiate, from taking tours to moving-in-day, from having your university student home for the holidays to having her home for good (or until she moves in with her boyfriend, which may FINALLY be happening next month. Don't get me started.)

I'm back with another adventure in the fields of academe: the Accepted Students Day. That's right, Youngest, who first made her appearance in this blog at the age of ten (she had just started reading the Harry Potter series) is headed off to college this fall. The lucky institution? The Honors College at the University of Maine, which offers a core civilization and classics curriculum, its own dorms and classroom spaces, and - this is the part I get a little dizzy over - enough in grants and scholarships that Youngest will be able to graduate debt free. I'll give those of you who are still paying off loans a chance to sit down and breath it through.

Before making that decision, though, she wanted to get an in-depth look, so off we went to Orono, Maine (an almost three hour trip, which reassured her I wouldn't be "too close" to, I don't know, pop over and tuck her in at night. My children have always deeply overestimated my interest in what might be going on in their dorm rooms.)

Accepted Students Day is to the campus tour as a full-blown wedding vendors fair is to skimming The Knot. Every kid there has gotten that lovely fat envelope, and every parent has seen the financial aid offer, and the university is there to seal the deal, with administrators, deans, professors and some VERY peppy students all showing up to tell you and your child in detail why this is the Best of all Possible Schools. Here are a few tips to make the most of your day:

1) Embrace the schmaltz. Every campus has a group called Key Club or Student Ambassadors or such, comprised of young people who will grow up to be Realtors and run car dealerships. They are super, super excited about Accepted Students Day. (I suspect surly, disgruntled university attendees are locked in their dorms until all the guests have left.)

 At UMaine, the incoming kids and their parents walked through a crowd of cheering, blue-clad youths and a giant inflatable bear's face to get into the Performance Center where everything kicked off. The bear mascot was there as well, giving high fives and punching it out...with parents, as the high-schoolers were to a man too cool/embarrassed/jaded to give it up for the Bear. We middle-aged folks were loving it, however, and why not? We're light years beyond cool, anyway. May as well cheer and applaud and ooh and aaah. The same thing happened when the program opened with a fabulous a capella group.

 "Oh, my God," Youngest said. "Can they get more cliched?" I, meanwhile, was butt-dancing in my seat.

2) Ease up on the cheerleading.  I really wanted Youngest to like UMaine. (In addition to debt free, my "parental expected contribution" was $200. Parents, I'll wait a moment while you fan yourselves.) So, I admit, I went a tad overboard. I got her a t-shirt. And sunglasses. I praised the theatre. I proclaimed the blueberry popovers the best ever (they were good.) I pointed out the architectural excellence of the buildings - yes, even the brutalist library. Why is it always the library? Finally, we were walking through a green area signed "Arboretum." "Gosh," I said, "Look at all the beautiful..." before I could say the word 'trees,' we had run out of them. It was a three-pine arboretum.

 "Mom," Youngest said. "You need to cool it." She was right.

3) Remember, you're not the prospective student. The university broke the kids into groups for sessions with the professor(s) heading up their departments of interest. Since Youngest is considering International Affairs, we hiked over to a conference space inside a cool museum of Native People's art and technology ("Mom! Stop looking! You're going to get lost!") to meet with their head. His presentation was so compelling, I  wanted to sign up. Afterwards, we stayed behind to speak one-on-one (Youngest was great about asking questions and zeroing in on her interests. At her age, my primary question was, "Where the boys at?") The professor had mentioned the intersection of climate change with national security, and I piped up about a program I had just heard on NPR. We discussed it for a minute, and he turned to Youngest. "You're interested in the international repercussions of climate change?"

"No," she said. "My mother is." Oops. 

As an aside, they should make a college for old people. It would be all about the academics, which we're finally mature enough to want to focus on, with a really good dining hall and ergonomically correct study carrels. Bedtime at 9:30, strictly enforced.

And in that vein: 4) The things that excite you and the things that excite your student will be different. What I swooned over: the classics curriculum, the museum, the language requirement and the squishy leather chairs in the Honors College reading room. What Youngest swooned over: cute boys, an in-depth conversation with a sorority girl, the study-abroad programs and the Adirondack chairs in the park outside the Honors College.

What we both liked: lunch, the century-old residence hall she hopes to live in, those blueberry popovers (really, they were bakery quality.) Is that enough to be going forward? Yes, yes it is. We sent in the deposit after we got home. Go Black Bears!