I picked up my son’s backpack the other day and nearly toppled over from the strain of lifting it. I could not believe how heavy it was. I pried it open and started wrenching items loose from inside, shifting and pulling and tugging to empty it and see for myself what was making it so burdensome.
I went through all of the objects I found — the binders, the books, the laptop, the water bottle — and realized that not one single item could be discarded. He needed them all. He sure has a lot of weight to carry.
Feeling troubled that I couldn’t ease his burden, I began to think about all of the other weight that he carries — both tangible and intangible. My tiny ten-year-old has heavy expectations to fulfill, but you might not know it just by looking at him.
He has to learn how to switch classes on his own this year, leaving behind the safety of walking in straight lines behind a teacher through the hallways. His elementary years are done, and it’s time for him to be trusted with a little bit of independence.
He has to make it through the day without a playground break. His little boy energy is still very high, but his days of climbing through tunnels and careening down slides have come to a close (while school is in session, at least).
He has to learn how to balance the expectations of seven different teachers (and more than a few classmates and friends) as he makes a series of daily moral decisions determining who he is as a person and what kind of adult he will become.
He has to be brave, knowing that at any moment, a bully may materialize in the hallways of his school, much like a troll might appear in the chat box of his favorite internet game. He has to learn how to hold his own and fight his own battles in such a way that he earns the respect of his opponents and stays out of trouble.
He has to travel back and forth between two households, abiding by separate sets of rules and expectations, never able to feel the security or permanence of belonging to a nuclear family like so many of his friends do.
He sure has a lot of weight to carry, this tiny ten-year-old of mine. I wish I could send him back in time to his carefree toddler days when he was completely unburdened. If I could, I would just carry the entire bag for him so there would be nothing holding him back.
But sometimes, taking the burden away from your child is not an option. You have to put all of the items back inside the backpack, zip it closed, and hand it over. It’s heavy, but it’s not impossible. He may stumble a bit beneath the weight, but he won’t fall. He’s stronger than he looks.
