"I Wanted So Much More For You..."

It's a timeless cri de coeur from parents, coaches and mentors.
A true cry from the heart, from someone who sees talent in another person, and tries their best to nurture and develop that talent...only to have the object of their efforts say,

"No thanks.  That's your dream, not mine."

Those words feel like a gut-punch,
but the truth is...

Do I want to help someone reach their goals? 
Or do I want to help them reach my goals for them?
Should I drop my support and "move on", if the person
isn't sufficiently impressed with my clear grasp of what they "should" do?

I mean...we had a plan, an agreement.
Or did we?

Maybe it was just a temporary convergence of goals.
It's difficult not to interpret this as a betrayal of sorts, and to respond with anger.

"After all I've done for you..."

("...to help you reach the goals I had for you.")

Several years ago, when I was still a school psychologist,
I had a special-education evaluation/eligibility case that dragged
out over the course of two years.

The presenting concern from the parents was their daughter
expending what they saw as extraordinary effort, to get all As
in her middle school classes.

They wanted special education accommodations for their daughter.
Possibly she had a reading disorder.  Possibly she took longer than
usual to get her thoughts on paper.  Possibly not.  But...they wanted
the process of getting straight As to be easier for their daughter. 

The parents were adamant this level of performance was crucial to getting
into a private high school, and then into a specific college, five or six years
down the road. 

To make that happen, they wanted to have their daughter labeled "disabled."

I was furious.
The daughter made it abundantly clear how she felt about being evaluated by me.
I strongly suspected that she was coached by her parents to underperform on
certain portions of the evaluation. 

I declared test after test invalid, because the low scores didn't match the high
classroom performance.  The parents hated me for not helping their dreams
come true, the daughter hated me for repeatedly taking her out of class and
the administration hated me for not kow-towing to the parents.

I very clearly remember the meeting in which I turned to the father of this
straight-A student, and asked him:

"Does [name] know how disappointed you are in her?"

Silence.

I took that as a "yes."

I also taught little ones how to ice skate for a number of years.
Most of the children wanted to be there.  A few didn't.

A few of those who really didn't want to learn to skate arrived
completely togged out in hockey gear, to the point where they
lay on the ice like upside-down turtles when they fell,
encumbered by all the unnecessary gear.

And their wee hockey skates had only an inch or two of blade on the ice.
The fathers of these over-dressed, under-enthused little guys often
hovered at the door onto the ice, encouraging, or even attempting to coach.

I could see it in their eyes...maybe, just maybe, their dream of hockey stardom
would be realized after all.

And that's just parenting!

What about the advisee or mentee who doesn't want
to rise to the mentor's level?

Or simply wants to take another path?

It's terribly difficult to take a deep breath,
let go of one's own goals, dreams and expectations,
and say,
"If that's what you want to do...I'm here to help."

It's terribly difficult, AND a true measure of devotion.

What a wonderful affirmation, to hear, 
"I respect your goals and your dreams,"

WITHOUT also hearing, "But I wanted so much more for you..."