On opportunities

This is the photo that made me cry.

We took M to Duke University yesterday. We sat in on a class, ambled around campus, ate at the Great Hall, watched the video, toured with the admissions volunteer, and sneaked into the gym. There he picked up a basketball and took a few precious shots. On the hardwood at Duke University. Duke. The Blue Devils. Coach K has walked on that floor. All the greats that he has admired have practiced on those hoops.

And he could have it.

At first he was impressed, engaged, envisioning himself there. He listened and observed. He talked and evaluated. At first. But slowly, the demon that haunts him got the best of him. He began rationalizing why he couldn't, why it's really not so great, why his dreams were just kid's dreams.

I hate that demon. It's the same demon that renders him an underachiever. That tells him to shoot himself in the foot. That blinds him to the wealth of opportunities before him. That causes him to cave under a self-inflicted Pressure to Succeed. That causes him to despise the very gifts he's been given. That stifles the passions that are there. That makes him value mediocrity as the mark of someone cool.

When I got this photo back, it just crystallized all those feelings for me: The boy. The posture. The ball. The place. The time. The screen. The choice. The opportunity.