“What time is it? Did you hear that? Who the hell is ringing our doorbell at three in the morning?” grouses David. Then he sees the trees outside the window light up briefly followed by the squealing of tires. “Someone just left our driveway,” he thinks out loud, as he finally shakes off the fog of sleep.
“Is there someone at the door?” asks Kim. She, too, is awake now.
Moments later, as David unlatches the front door, it swings open, pushed open by the limp body of their son.
Kim lets out a scream. David can smell the problem immediately. Their unconscious son reeks of alcohol. Unable to rouse him, David begins to panic, reaching for his phone. “Is he dead?” gasps Kim. “Look at his face, his hands. He’s bleeding. Oh, my God.”
Eagerly awaiting their son’s first trip home from college, Neal’s parents were crushed to find him passed out on their front stoop at 3am Friday night. They soon learned that drinking to the point of passing out had been the norm almost every weekend since Neal started rushing fraternities. Now he was close to flunking out.
This behavior came as a complete shock to his parents because Neal never struggled with grades or alcohol in high school. In fact, they felt rather blessed that he seemed to avoid all the problems many their friends’ kids struggled with during adolescence.
We come to realize that Neal coasted through high school, doing just enough at the last minute to maintain his “B” average. When questioned about his grades, his answer was that a “B” average at his selective high school was (plenty) “good” (enough). Neal did well enough that his parents and teachers felt no need to be concerned. He also avoided the harsh peer culture of comparisons prevalent among many of his peers. Neal’s excuse was always, “Friends are more important than grades”.
Neal was popular and someone girls and guys turned to for relationship advice or comfort after breakups. No one would have guessed that Neal would struggle in college with making friends and getting good grades. Unfortunately, Neal’s “coasting” in high school did not prepare him well for college. That harsh reality hit home in his first four weeks of Chemistry class when he realized that the material he was struggling to learn was a part of a simple review for his classmates.
For once in his life, Neal was truly struggling, especially after his transfer to community college proved just as disastrous as the previous semester at the university. Neal’s lack of good study skills and mastery of necessary fundamentals was not an easy fix. Neal is like so many teenage boys who take the easy route, trying to avoid the potential risks of humiliation that come with academic evaluation and peer comparisons. They remain safe and can reassure themselves with “I could if I wanted to”.
Fortunately, Neal rediscovers the drive for mastery he had when he was a curious kid who asked a million questions. But his route for getting there is not simple and direct. Eventually his desire to help others lights a fire under him. Much of that healthy outcome can be found in the vignettes about his future. Just like Mitch, you can take a look at the vignettes that capture a childhood where his parents are more attuned to the risks of coasting and avoidance and find healthy ways to encourage Neal to take on challenges and learn to handle the failures and frustrations he tried to avoid as a teenager; a pattern of avoidance that stunted his academic growth.