Devon

I met my granddaughter, Devon, when she was ten and her little sister, Tyler, was five. Such darling girls! So sweet and precocious!

Jason was dating their mother, Kortnee. It was obvious that he was in love with Kortnee and her girls. They came as a package. I was delighted to have all three of them join our family.

I quickly noticed how smart Devon was. As a school social worker, I was around bright kids every day. But there was something extraordinary about Devon. 

She and I were talking one afternoon, soon after I met her. I said, “Devon, I can tell you are really smart. Do you know what you want to do after high school?”

“Yes, I’m going to Harvard. I’m going to be a lawyer.” She was in fifth grade! She didn’t come from a wealthy family. She didn’t have all the advantages that a lot of her classmates had. But she had a vision and determination that most kids don’t.

And then I said one of the dumbest things that ever came out of my mouth.

“That’s nice,” I said. “And what is your Plan B?”

Who says something like that?  A good grandmother would say, “What a wonderful goal, Sweetheart. I know you can do it!”

But I was a grandmother who had never, even once in my life, heard someone in my family say, “I’m going to Harvard.” 

Devon looked up at me, with her beautiful black eyes and blinked once.

“Oh, Grandma. There isn’t any Plan B.”

And there wasn’t. Devon had her eye on the prize when she was ten years old. Throughout school, she studied hard and took impossibly difficult classes. She declared her intentions and made them come true. 

Two years after I met her, when she was twelve, Devon met the principal of her future high school. She was at a party with his two daughters. When he came to pick up his girls, Devon met him in the hallway, shook his  hand and said, “Hi. I’m Devon. I’m going to be valedictorian when I come to your school.”

Can you imagine? Mr. Principal wrapped his arms around her and watched her in high school until she was, indeed, the valedictorian of her graduating class. 

But perhaps, my most memorable moments with Devon came when I chaperoned a trip to New York for Devon and thirty of her eighth-grade classmates. To be blunt, it was a nightmare. One of the worst experiences of my life. The students were spoiled and non-compliant. They spent most of their time on the telephone, calling friends and family in Denver. They were far more interested in shopping for clothes than in seeing the Statue of Liberty. 

But not Devon. She was a joy. She was excited to be in a city she had only read about. She wanted to see the Empire State Building. She asked great questions when we visited the United Nations. She stayed away from the telephone and did everything that was asked of her. I was proud to be her grandmother.

I will always be proud of Devon, my oldest grandchild. She graduated from Harvard and went on to study law at Columbia University in New York. In addition to securing great internships during the summer, working for a well-known, very prestigious law firm, Devon was chosen to be on the Wine Board. Devon knows more than me on every topic you can imagine, including wine.

After graduation, Devon moved to Los Angeles to work for the prestigious law firm. She was, as always, tremendously successful. But, after six years, she wasn’t happy. She left a high-paying job to become a federal public defender in Los Angeles. The work is hard. The clients are difficult. The successes are fewer. In true Devon fashion, she puts everything she has into every case. Her clients are lucky to have her in their lives. So am I.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!