Aux Cord
As I walk to the car my son yells, “shotgun” and “aux cord” almost simultaneously.
The result of this request is driving my Toyota Highlander with the roof open and hip-hop blaring out of the speakers, my son by my side. I am the only adult in the house who not only allows the use of aux cord but relishes it. I love to drive, I especially love to drive with my kids in the car, music up, windows down and singing and dancing. These moments rank among my most cherished memories, taking long rides or just running to the market. It’s an opportunity to visit a foreign land, language unknown to me, it’s also going somewhere warm and familiar, it’s grounding and elevating all at once. I see these moments as a gift to be opened slowly and enjoyed in the company of the giver.
This music ritual started long ago when Nick was a first year high school student, his musical taste began to grow and deepen and something changed in the car and we started to listen to his music when we were together, no longer listening to mine or to NPR. I think early on it was probably the reason he was willing to get in the car with me to run errands in the first place but then it became a thing. It was an invitation into his world, to learn his language, hear his thoughts. The other adults in his life could not get past the explicit lyrics or provocative language so they didn’t get to ride in the car with Nick very often. To me it felt like a privilege to share these moments in the car, bounce to the thumping base, listen to the slam poetry of hip hop music, the old school music references made me laugh and the lyrical skills blew my mind.
When we are far from each other, no car rides possible, he sends me songs to listen to. The first time it happened I smiled and listened and thought it must be a one off, it was not. The songs kept coming and I kept listening, then he went to China. Sending your kiddo a world away isn’t easy especially when they are a sophomore in high school. Being so far away there were rules to our communication, it would be hard to hear from me too often because he was so far away and might be sad. We agreed that he would keep sending me music and I wouldn’t send sappy texts. I so looked forward to getting these songs by text, it made him feel closer, allowed me to feel like I could experience something with him, while he was gone. I would listen to the words, think about the lyrics, feel the beats, it brought me so much joy. I started to send him some of my old school music and we had a nice back and forth going. It created a connection for me to feel closer to him and allowed him to keep in touch in a way that was regulated by him.
Flash forward to Fall of 2020, he is away during a pandemic for his first year at college. Nothing is as it should be, everything is upside down and inside out. I dropped him off at a campus that resembled some weird post apocalyptic universe, it felt awful but also necessary. I knew as a second-time-sending-a kid-to-college-Mom, that the frequency of our communication would change, decrease, for his well being and mine. I pretty much have a rule that I only send one or two of the thousand things I think of every day by text. I really filter my desire to be connected to him with what I know he needs most, independence. One thing has not changed he still sends me music. I treasure every song, I sit and listen attentively, when I have peace and quiet so I can “hear” the song. I am not gonna lie, it makes me feel special to have this connection, this language with my son. It makes me feel like I know something that’s happening in his life, I appreciate the effort, the sharing, the acknowledgment that comes with each song.
I don’t listen to his music for him, to make him happy, I listen because I love to learn, not just about him but about his generation, his friends, his language, I listen because it is my joy to do so. I don’t love every song or every message but I do respect his taste and thoughtful nature regarding music, his expansive palate. I listen because it’s like watering plants, it takes time and attention to cultivate a garden, it takes time and attention to cultivate a new version of our relationships as our children grow up. Spend some time in the new worlds your children are hanging out in, don’t reject the music or art because it doesn’t resemble yours, be open, enjoy the possibility in it, be grateful for the invitation.
** music from my son: De La Sol, Dudley Perkins, Talib Kweli, The Roots, Madlib,
