As the temperatures started to fall last year, I was presented with an opportunity to make use of my French at school; I was offered to go on a trip to France. I rushed home and begged my parents to let me go. They were intrigued, and agreed to my request. However, I would be by myself for 18 days, and for my parents, this was something otherworldly, beyond anything they would ever go through.

Sure, they both agreed, I could go, but once they had sent everything in and it was final, their usual helicopter-type behavior took a turn for the worse. For the past few months, every night has been a lesson by one or both of my parents on how to properly eat, properly brush teeth, properly hang up clothes, etc in France. As a part of scolding me for something, they make sure to include a “If you do this in France this this and that is going to happen.” It has been a topic of conversation at any family gatherings, friend gatherings, and parties. For them, “desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Poor Alan. How will he survive? The poor kid. I’m going to need to call him three times a day, remind him to eat and shower and go to sleep on time.” My older sister, who graduated from West in 1998, is long out of college and is already scraping a living for herself in this slow economy. She barely sees me anymore. That doesn’t stop her from calling in non-stop and asking about how I’m doing. She is old enough to be my mother, so she acts like one. And she’s only the middle sister. I have a second sister who is five years older than her, and I have two grandparents who have always been very involved in my life. When people ask me how many siblings I have, sometimes I feel like the better question would be “How many mothers do you have?” My answer to that question would have to be- “ I’ve lost count.”

I’m in a very unique situation: my family loves me too much. They are very concerned about my welfare, in school and out. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without them. Everyone is always worried about me, so I’ve grown to be dependent on people I shouldn’t be at my age. But come on, asking me if I brushed my teeth and took a shower? That’s taking things a little too far. That, I’m proud to say, I’ve learned at quite an early age.

In some ways, my many mothers have a point. At my old school, Science and Arts Academy, in 3rd grade, my teacher would assign two girls to look after my stuff. I became famous, or infamous, for losing everything out there, and since it was a small school, especially 6 years ago, much of the school revolved around what I lost and where I lost it. My music teacher became so used to the routine, that every time he saw my mom and I talking to each other, he would ask what I had lost this time.

As a part of the French Exchange Program, a French student, named Guillaume, stayed at my house for two weeks. It was a lot of fun. While he was here though, my grades started suffering as I decided to spend time with him and his friends rather than do my homework. As soon as Guillaume left, my parents started organizing the long and painful boot camp of getting me ready for France, I had to drop out of Track and Field and just start fresh.

I’ve always dreamed of going to France one day. To me, France is a dream come true. I’m so excited about going to a different country. But you guys out there will have to wish me a lot of luck if you want me to live to tell you all about it. To me, France is not just the land of Napoleon, Monet, and Descartes. To me, France will forever be known as the land without my many mothers.