When I was in junior high, my academic performance sucked. 
It wasn’t that I was dumb or suffered from a learning disability, I was simply disinterested.
It was a constant source of frustration for my parents who now doubt saw the potential within me.
It was most likely many years later after graduating college and medical school that I finally realized my potential for learning.
It was something they knew existed all those years ago.
These days, I find myself in the role of a Solo-Dad frustrated because I see that same potential in my son while watching him ignore it.
I know he’s bright because he has an encyclopedic knowledge of a few select subjects: Elvis Presley, Classic Rock guitarists, and professional baseball. (Not exactly subjects that careers are made of, but they represent categories of knowledge that he’s passionate about.)
Want to know the name of the of female co-star in Jailhouse Rock who was killed one month after the movie debuted? He can tell you.
Ever wonder how Stevie Ray Vaughn made his guitar solos sound unique? Ask him.
Yes, he’s a bright kid.
Like most Solo-Dads, I struggle to balance positive reinforcement with accountability. I want to be supportive of good behavior and encourage positive development of those trends. And occasionally, I fall back into the role of task-master and that doesn’t do either of us any good.
During a most recent episode of ‘Oh My God, I’m Such a Failure As a Father’ -a mental sitcom that reruns in my head every so often, I stumbled upon a blog on Spirituality by Tom Stine.
I read his post linked above and this one and subsequently experienced a satori moment regarding my behavior and self-imposed drama around Little Elvis’ study habits.
Could it be that LE is simply a slave to my diminished expectations? Could his academic performance be adversely effected by my own story about it?
I’ve decided to sit with this a while. I really have no control over it anyway. All I can do is encourage him, be there for him when he needs help and try to lead by example.
At the very least, by simply accepting his performance at whatever level it occupies, I end my own suffering over it. That has to be of help to him, don’t you think?
