I wrote this and submitted this to a couple of magazines in August, 2011
U.C. and no M.D., but That’s Just Fine by Me
So the kid next door was just sprinkling grass seed, which, albeit no big deal, was certainly atypical for a child in the affluent town in which we live. While most kids were either getting ready for sleepaway camp, cramming with SAT tutors, or partaking in a “grass” of a different nature, this young man was doing the non-negotiable chores his parents have set out for him. And, next year, when he graduates from high school, he will, for free, go to the college where his dad is a math professor, and he, too, will study math and continue this path that the male members of his family have followed for generations. It’s predictable, it’s safe, and it’s healthy.
The rest of us have instilled this enormous sense of the Jewish and Asian Theories of Evolution into our children. It is “survival of the overachiever” at its finest, as the race to the most AP classes begins right out of the freshmen starting gate. Lunchtime is synonymous with “extra elective,” and a 4.0 is considered mediocre and will never illuminate any trail to the Ivy League.
When my oldest was beginning her sophomore year of high school, she spent months doubled over with stomach spasms, and she lost a ridiculous amount of blood and weight. By the time her adored pediatrician agreed that perhaps she should see some sort of gastrointestinal specialist, her soon-to-be diagnosed Ulcerative Colitis was full blown. The flare would require an eight-day hospital stay with intravenous steroids, and the first of our five-time roommate stints would begin.
Everybody on the hospital floor was enamored of my peanut, and when the steroids kicked in enough to earn her some moments of “separation of Marissa and bathroom,” she headed right for the backpack. After all, she had been out of school for several days by this point due to her hospital stay (she didn’t miss one during the entire flare, as she wouldn’t allow herself to “indulge” that way), and the work was piling up. Though her teachers offered extensions, Marissa used her time in the hospital to teach herself the AP and Honors work she was missing. In fact, she even helped me with some of my work, as I was back in school pursuing my teaching certification.
Marissa earned a GPA of a 4.3 that year, as well as several more flares and another hospital stay. Particularly noteworthy was her relationship with her Physics teacher, who was not exactly known for his warmth or his fostered relationships with his students. With Marissa it was different though, and their daily lunch tutorials led to the playful rumors that circulated amongst the nerdy crowd. People, even Marissa’s guidance counselor, would marvel at how this teacher became a different person when he was tutoring Marissa, further validating how sweet, fastidious, and determined my girl is. There was no doubt that she was Ivy League bound, especially with the obstacle of her UC that she faced so gracefully.
Marissa graduated number 22 in her class of 410, and she scored a 2240 on her SATs. She accumulated nearly 500 volunteer hours at the hospital, spent every Sunday morning working with children with physical and mental disabilities, and she was a lifeguard every summer at the town pool. She was in every honor society, and she was adored and respected by staff and students alike. Beautiful inside and out, with her illness finally under control, Marissa would certainly be a Biology major on either Cornell’s or Brown’s roster for the Class of 2012.
Marissa is about to be a senior at a school that is not a part of the Ivy League. The head of guidance at the time told me that perhaps the Ivys weren’t looking for another “white, Jewish girl from the suburbs,” but that did little to alleviate how incredulous we were. After all, she dotted every i and crossed every t. She worked herself sick, bypassing nights out with friends to ensure that she would get a 5 on all of her AP exams. Though receiving entrance into the Honors program and a significant scholarship, she couldn’t help but ask herself why she had worked so hard, since she could have treated herself to a night out every so often and still found herself matriculated at the same school. The question was a fair one.
Last July, Marissa had her colon removed. As the overachiever that she is, her colon was over ninety percent diseased, and she would require three surgeries instead of the two that most require. Though these surgeries would be difficult and painful, it was the “bag” that she would need to have for eleven months that was the “elephant in the room.” Unwilling to miss a semester of college, the surgeries would need to be planned around summer vacations, semester breaks, and the schedules of the two finest surgeons to ever grace the planet.
It was not an easy year, but my girl handled it far better than most would have. Some would have been angry at the load they had to tote, but Marissa just dealt with it maturely, intellectually, and realistically – the way she handles everything. My Biology major would rally through this challenge and amaze all with her courage and strength, but I think she amazed herself the most when she called me from her MCAT class with a life changing decision. She was not going to go to medical school, as the stress of the MCAT class was just too much for her. She would now plan to go to PA school, which would still allow her to use her Biology degree, play a part in the medical world, have patients of her own, and do what she loves. In fact, this will give her the time and freedom to also have that house with the three children, the white picket fence, and the big backyard. And who knows? Maybe she just might sprinkle some grass seed in that big backyard.
Marla Jaffe
Livingston, New Jersey
Mother of 3 and 7th grade Language Arts teacher in Denville, NJ
Working on her first novel
A Martini Toast 