Just remembered this super cute dad story
When I was in my early twenties, I worked in Res Life at my undergrad school. I was the assistant to a Deputy Director of Res Life, so I fielded a number of calls from asshole parents about how their precious children could NEVER do ANYTHING wrong (ah, “they’re farm people,” mom, you were only ever beaten by the dad who flat-out used a racial slur. I hope you’re both miserable).
(Special shout-out to the mom who overpacked a care package, then claimed our student staff opened it, wore the socks that were in it, then put them BACK IN THE BOX.)
Anyway, most of the time when the phone rang and it was a parent, it was a parent who wanted to argue their kid didn’t deserve to be punished (they always did) or that their kid deserved special treatment (translation: My child deserves a new roommate because their current roommate is tired of their rudeness). So, when the phone gave me the outside line ring, I always prepared for something ridiculous.
(mine is the only name that is the real name)
One afternoon, I get the outside line ring. I give my ever-chipper greeting. “Deputy Direction Smith’s office. This is Gayle.”
“Hi, Gayle. I’m John. My daughter is Susan. She’s a freshman in [the huge fucking dorm], and she’s having some trouble adjusting.”
I get out my steno pad and pen, ready to scribble notes on how this kid should not be held accountable for starting shit with a roommate or some other nonsense.
“She’s a good kid. She’s just really shy. I was wondering if there’s some sort of student activities calendar she could get. A website or a print out or something.”
I sort of stopped short because THIS IS SO SWEET. And, YES, we DO have a calendar.
“We have a whole activities council that runs events. Their website is [website]. There should also be copies of the calendar at the front desk of her dorm. If they’re not out where she can grab one, the desk attendant should have it within reach.”
“The website will work. She doesn’t really like talking to strangers. I’m just trying to help her get out of her room and do things.”
(Me, internally: DUH.) “Right. Of course. So, there’s a couple of ideas that may be really fun for her. The bingo nights and the movie nights don’t require you show up with anyone or even really talk to anyone. Well, unless you win at bingo, of course.”
“Those both sound good. Anything else you’d recommend?”
“I don’t have a personal list of stuff. I don’t live on campus, but I do recommend if she wants to learn a new skill, there’s all sorts of classes she could take at the rec center. Or she could just go swim laps in the pool. We’ve got dedicated lanes.”
He thanked me a lot, made sure he had the website address was correct, thanked me again, and we got off the phone.
I think about him every now and again. There was no way to get an update on how it went, but I decided that her dad helping by calling the stranger allowed her to start seeing things she could do and enjoy and let her have some fun.
I’ve decided she’s doing well because she clearly had a dad who loved her enough to do the scary bit as a way to encourage her to do the other scary bits.
