Leaving 5th grade is about him. A son. In a new summer. Promoting a new era. Beginning the birth of a Gen Z-er.
Leaving for him is freedom. Walking home alone. Gathering in friend clusters around the frisbee toss. Around the Magic draft. Around the smartphone. Around the texts. Around the lucky ones allowed Fortnite.
Leaving for him is an induction. The induction of preadolescent emotions. The tunnels, the bowels, the volcanoes, the secrets. The admirers.
Leaving for him is a privilege. The privilege of white. Of an education system built for you. Of a dominant culture reinforcing how you look, surface, behave and choose to achieve. The privilege of safety.
Leaving 5th grade is about you. A mother. In a new day. Resettling a prior era. Creating a new ex.
Leaving for you is a magnification. A lens on the passages of time. The achievement of eras completed. The delight in gardening a human.
Leaving for you is a comfort. A serenity driven by ancient wisdom. He is attached. He has survived loss. He is socially connected. The cycle of life is cradling and absorbing him.
And he has learned to use deodorant.
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