Clipped Wings

It is high school graduation season and many of our incoming P’26 families will be watching their current-seniors/soon-to-be-Deacs graduating soon.

A dear Wake Forest friend sent me this article from Axios Tampa Bay. It’s a little parable about parenting. I hope you enjoy.

“Hey there. Farmer Ben, here.

I’m raising a beautiful slate-gray Blue Star pullet that really does not like me.

What’s happening: 

• Why it matters: In her garden pen, she has shelter, food and water. She’s safe. Outside the pen, she’s in constant danger.

Threat level: An osprey perches on a nearby power line, and the neighbor’s cat creeps around at dusk.

Flashback: Her predecessors — Lil’ Pat, Hope Solo, etc. — learned the cost of adventure.

Reality check: Rowena Ravenclaw only wants to be outside the coop.

The latest: She has learned to fly.

• When I turn my back, she furiously flaps over the 4-foot fence.

What I did: Grabbed scissors and held her close, splaying one wing out so the last and longest feathers — the flight feathers — were exposed.

• Then: Snip.

It didn’t hurt the hen. And you only have to do one wing to keep the bird grounded.

The rub: As Rowena scrambled away, cursing my name, the power of the paradox hit me.

• One benevolent snip kept her home, safe. It also stole her freedom, and any chance she had of seeing the outside world.

The big picture: It’s commencement season for lots of us — caps and gowns and family in town. We mark time by these days. A few blinks ago, the kids were squeezing our hands as we met the kindergarten teacher on the first day of school.

• Now look at them. So many new flight feathers.
• My daughter graduates from Hillsborough High on Tuesday, then heads to Harvard in the fall — 1,400 miles from Tampa.

The bottom line: I’m scared to death. Maybe you are, too.

• We’ve had them in the coop for 18 years, safe and sound. But it’s their time to fly. Let’s put the scissors down and help each other through this.”

— by Betsy Chapman, Ph.D. (’92, MA ’94)