When you’re in a group of people, everyone takes on different roles. There are funny people, flirty people, among many others. However, when a group becomes close, a family dynamic develops. As part of the Cantores Christi Regis choir at King’s College, I can honestly say that I have gotten close to many of its members, many of whom are younger than me. This creates a family dynamic in our group. Our group has an older sibling and, of course, the youngest “child;” I have received the role of the mother. Here’s how I fell into accept the role as Group Mom (or Choir Mom, in my case).
1. You’ve been “adopted.”
As you can probably imagine, I did not choose to be the “Mom.” This role sort of fell into my lap. One of my “children” in particular looked like a sad, sick puppy until my maternal instincts kicked in and I just had to take him in and mother. (He’s a freshman — poor child.) I seem to have a strong maternal instinct when it comes to the freshmen. They need mothering. How else are they going to survive?
2. You’re the supplier/provider.
Tissues? Cough drops? Medicine? If you carry these things around and start providing them to other people in your group, guess what? You’re the mom now. I have a reputation of carrying a variety of useful items in my purse or backpack (so much so that I earned the nickname “Mrs. Mom-Purse” for a time). One of my “children” insisted that DayQuil fixes congestion for a cold. In choir, congestion is not conducive to singing. So, like the mom I am, I brought him proper cold medicine, though, to this day, he still insists that “DayQuil fixes everything” (He knows who he is).
I have handed out tissues at particularly emotional events and I always have enough cough drops and medicine. However, water is the other necessity for choir members, and somehow I am the provider that as well. I have been asked “how hard did you mom today?” As a precursor to being asked if I have a water bottle to spare. I have “mommed” so hard that I generally have an extra water bottle for one “child” in particular. I silently hand him the water bottle; he doesn’t even need to ask anymore.
3. You’re the homework/class helper.
Your “children” come to you to ask advice. As an English Literature and Professional Writing major, this help usually comes in the form of grammar or proofreading advice. I have been emailed papers on multiple occasions to check them for errors and to make sure the content is strong (this happens for philosophy too, since I am the unofficial philosophy major). I am also asked what certain words mean and how to spell certain words. As the true mom, I am expected to know everything, so when I don’t know what “excoriate” means, I get the response “Mom! You’re supposed to know what all words mean!”
Also, I have provided help on writing resumes as well. I sat with two of my “children” helping them write resumes for various things. One of them insisted that he had nothing to put on his resume, but this was not the case once we got going. For another, I helped her format her resume the best possible way.
4. You’re the advice giver.
As a senior at King’s, I have a large amount of knowledge regarding certain classes and professors. In the Honor’s Program, I have been asked repeatedly about which classes to take down the road to fulfill other requirements or if one professor is better than another for a certain class. I also try to push my “children” into the english major if I think they would be good at it. (In true pushy-mom fashion — my english professors would be proud!) I also listen to the various personal details about my “children.” It is my job as de facto mom to give life advice too!
5. You’re the proud mom.
When you’re the mom, you feel that maternal pride that comes when any of your “children” achieve something great. Whether it’s getting the solo in choir or getting a leading role in the next play, Mom is proud of everything they do! When the “children” find something that they enjoy, I get that happy moment where I am enjoying their triumphs.
When one of the “children” learns something that I taught them, I feel an extra rush of pride. Yes, I am going to be a professor one day, but this is different. It’s like I have taken them under my wing and they are learning life skills from me.
6. The conversation changes.
As I said earlier, when I don’t know something, I usually get the “Mom! You should know everything!” comment. However, the family dynamic of our group takes a family oriented turn pretty often. Occasionally, there are playful outbursts between members, like which “child” “Mom” prefers (followed by the outburst over why that “child” is preferred). At that point, I resort to the standard response, “Children…”
7. Behavior becomes a focus,
My behavior comes under much more scrutiny, particularly to the “children.” I recently procrastinated on an assignment and one “child” witnessed my procrastination. She then proceeded to tell me “Mom! You’re setting a bad example for your children!” After that, she went and told the other “child” that I am a bad example. This behavior turns the other way, too. When one of the “children” curses, I respond with the maternal “Don’t talk to your mother that way.”
8. You’re concerned about their behavior.
Once the maternal instincts kick in, I have a hard time not making sure that they are eating and sleeping enough. One of my “children” got a horrible stomach ache during a show because he ate two cups of Ramen Noodles. Boy, did he receive a scolding from me! I react the same way when one of my “children” tells me that they have not eaten since breakfast (It would be about 5 p.m. by the time I find this out). They do the typical eyeroll when I start telling my “children” the importance of eating right.
One of my other “children” told me that she hadn’t slept well in days because she was in a show. Explaining to her about the importance of sleep was like talking to a wall. (Children can be stubborn, I suppose.) I ask the same concerned questions about sleep when someone tells me they’re tired.
9. You want them to spread their wings.
When it comes to trying new things, you just want your “children” to try new things. They’re all starting to figure themselves out, adding new majors, changing majors, adding study abroad experiences, working new jobs, performing in the theater and so many other wonderful things. I just want my “children” to do what they love and share their talents with the world.
10. You don’t want them to grow up.
As a senior in college, I am on my way out of King’s. I will be going off to grad school, and who is going to take care of my “children” while I’m gone? Obviously I have to come back to King’s often to check up on them! Also, I will be making sure that if they have any questions, they can just call me up or email me to ask!
