My oldest daughter is going to Amherst. The waitlist cracked like an amphora to allow in some light, and she was admitted a few weeks ago to the class of 2012. It was her first choice college so we are all very excited for her.
And yesterday, true to its reputation as one of the finest intellectual institutions in the country, the office of the Dean of Students sent her the summer reading: Jon Meacham’s Franklin and Winston. I told her how exciting it was and lucky she was, and she rolled her eyes at me. This kid has worked hard for the past 6 years, and she’d rather have the summer free of homework, with space to enjoy her job as a camp counselor for 9 year olds and all her parties with her friends.
But she is lucky, luckier than she knows at almost 18 years old. I know from the perspective of midlife what she can not: that she is at the start of a grand adventure. That she will learn and question and explore and discover, over the next four years, in ways that she never will again. Not just in books, either. Franklin and Winston indeed.