Jacob called me on a Friday morning a few weeks ago and asked, “Hey Mom, can you come pick me up at Job Corps? Like, now?”
Job Corps, where Jacob has been living and studying for the past year, is a federally funded education and training program for people ages 16-24. Students earn a high school diploma or GED and train for a career, all at no cost to the students or their families. It’s a great program for lots of reasons, and I’m sure it works for different students in different ways, but for Jacob it’s been perfect because he needed some independence from his family but he wasn’t ready to be on his own. Job Corps provided a bridge between family dependence and independence.
I drove across town to pick him up, and there I found a sturdy, confident young man surrounded by luggage and wearing a hardhat and tool belt.
In his backpack, he was carrying his diploma, the verification of one of the many things he has accomplished in the past year.
Once upon a time, when I was not much older than Jacob is now, I wanted to have a baby, and that baby has taught me more about myself and this world and God than almost any other person on this planet.
I learned early on that there are almost no joys in life so great as seeing one’s child feel proud of himself for an accomplishment that has been hard-earned, and Jacob has had much to be proud of, being born as he was with a tremendous will to conquer. When he was two, he decided that he would learn to turn a perfect somersault, and he did nothing but turn somersaults for two days until he could do them with ease. Likewise, when he thought it was time to learn to ride a bike, he ignored banged-up knees and scraped palms and tried, tried, tried with determination until he rode without a wobble.
When we went for our tour of Job Corps and one of the teachers told the gathered group of potential students, “We’ll try to help you every way we can, but lots of kids don’t finish the program,” Jacob leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’ll finish, Mom.” And I knew he would. I never had any doubt.
Once upon a time, I wanted to have a baby, but what happened instead was that there was this whole, extraordinary person. Congratulations, Jacob. I hope you’re so proud you bust your buttons. I hope, too, that you know that even though you’re a man now, I’ll still sing the humming song to you whenever you want.
I love you to the moon.