Swim Banquet

This is the last of the old posts...

The swim banquet was last night. Astrid was so excited about it. She talked about it for days beforehand, about how she was going to have a cupcake and a piece of cake. She wanted us both to wear dresses and picked out my new Boden dress for me to wear. After school, she and Eliot went to the Charlestown library to do homework. I met them there after work and when I walked in to the library with her dress for her to change into, she barrelled into me. “Let’s go put on my dress! Let’s go, Mama!” In the bathroom, she was doing jumping jacks and screeching.

 At the banquet, she gave the book she wrote to Marci, the coach, who seemed very impressed by it. Then we stood there wondering where to sit. It was so nice at last year’s banquet when Marty and Elena and Goenna and Brian saved us seats at their table. I wish they were still part of the swim team. Anyway, we found a table and Astrid was wriggling in her seat and kept asking if she could eat a cupcake. The cupcakes were arranged in the middle of the tables, for some reason, so of course all the kids were eating them. I told Astrid she’d have to wait until after dinner.

Then the coaches gave a little speech saying what a great year it was, blah, blah, blah, and announced that the ribbons and medals for sectionals were on a table in the back and the kids should go find theirs. Astrid just kept walking around the ribbon table, searching. Eliot and I were confused. Did everyone get a ribbon? If not, why would they make kids go look for a ribbon that wasn’t there? I went over to Astrid and she said “I can’t find my name, Mama. Help me look.” We both looked and I said, “I don’t think you got one, honey.” Marci walked over and I asked her, “Did Astrid get a ribbon?” She shrugged, “I don’t know. I haven’t looked at them.” We went back to our table, but a few minutes later, Astrid jumped up. “I’m going to go make sure” and walked back to the ribbon table. I said to Eliot, “She doesn’t have a ribbon.” Then I saw Astrid motion to me. I followed her into the bathroom, where she burst into tears. I hugged her and asked if she wanted to go home. She said, “No. I want to stay and show them how they made me feel.” I told her she couldn’t do that. Either we’d leave or we’d stay, but if we stayed, she couldn’t cry.

It was just cruel. Why make a kid go look for a ribbon that might not be there? And get it rubbed in your face that other kids have more than one? Last year, they passed out the ribbons one by one, and the kids walked up to the front while everyone clapped. Astrid didn’t have a problem with not getting one last year, when it was handled like that. And I’m not one of those people that think everybody should get a ribbon; you should get one when you deserve one. It was the way they did it. Only Eliot and I really know how much it took for Astrid to get through the season. Every day it was a struggle for her to go to practice. She loves swimming, but she always said that she has no friends there, no one is friendly to her, everyone is paired off, etc. And every day we told her she has to finish what she starts, that she needed to focus on her swimming. For someone as social and loving as Astrid, we knew it was hard. But she did it. She didn’t miss a single practice or a single meet. And now at the banquet, when she should be feeling good about what she accomplished, she was in tears. Eliot whispered to me, “Chipotle?” and I nodded. When I told her we’d take her to Chipotle, she smiled for the first time. “But what about the cupcake?” “You can eat it now, then we’ll go.”

The coaches were handing out sweatshirts to all the kids, and Marci came over with a sheepish grin on her face. “I have to tell you they spelled Astrid’s name wrong.” She showed us the sweatshirt with “Astros” embroidered on it. “But I spell my name “A-s-t-r-i-d.” “I know!” Marci said, “I’ll get you a new one, but you can hold on to this for the rest of the night.” I told her we were leaving in a little bit, so she could just keep it. I wasn’t upset about the shirt; that wasn’t her fault, it was just one more thing. So we went to Chipotle and brought our burritos home and sat at our table, toasting Astrid and telling her how proud we are of her for finishing the season and doing her best. Then I gave her another cupcake that I had snuck home.