I’m writing this letter because your son probably has not been keeping in touch as much as you want him to be. I know, I know — you miss him. My mom did too when I was a delegate, but I was so busy having the time of my life.
It’s Wednesday night, and at this point, your son has finally settled into the program. On Sunday and maybe even Monday night, there were ready to come home. They were thrown into a situation where they knew no one, and they were no longer the best and brightest —they’re now among the best and brightest across the entire state.
But it’s Wednesday night now, your delegate is sitting in their county’s leadership discussion and they’ve realized that this program is something special.
Your son has made some of the closest friends he will make in his life. He realizes how these guys he is with will change his life and become his biggest supporter.
Your son has run for office and he lost. It’s been a reality check, but a good one. He is humbled. He has also won an office. He swelled with pride and belonging when his brothers yelled and cheered for him in his victory.
Your son is tired. 6 a.m. comes much earlier than they’re used to, and the days are long. But they are with their brothers. And they’re thrilled to be a part of this. They’re not quite ready to come home (well, maybe for some non-cafeteria food and a good-night’s rest) because they want more days here and with their brothers.
Your son is well taken care of. The junior, state and senior counselors are the best and brightest this world has to offer, and they’re teaching your son lessons he’ll take with him for the rest of his life.
Tomorrow is our last full day. You’ll see him soon. Don’t worry. But in the meantime, I want you to know that he is having the time of his life.
All the best,
Your Son’s Junior Counselor