Carl began his downward slide in the first semester, and when he was dropped from the roster of those who were being considered for membership in a particular fraternity, he quit going to classes all together. His father's response wasn't kind. Nor was it fitting for the gravity of what Carl had just experienced—it minimized his pain. He said suicide didn't really attract him, but crawling under the covers and never coming out did. Fortunately he had a lovely girlfriend who was able to soften the blow he had experienced, and they married soon after.
Carl continued to live in the shadow of his father, a shadow that engulfed him in both shame and anxiety. His father watched his movements on the job like a hawk, even though they didn't even work for the same company. Whenever Carl failed to be at his desk on time, a piece of information his dad knew because he drove by Carl's office on his own way to work, he'd call and criticize him for being lazy and undependable.
Finally Carl quit going to work, much like he'd quit going to classes. His boss paid a visit, apologetically fired him, and then suggested Carl move away so his dad could hound him no longer. And in fact, that's exactly what he did, with a great letter of recommendation from his boss. He finally got his chance to shine, to persevere, and he did. He became a supervisor, and his employees appreciated his many kindnesses. He knew so well how disrespect felt, and he wasn't interested in going down that dark alley with his employees.
Perseverance is being steadfast, not letting failure deter you from staying committed to the goal.
Carl was steadily employed his whole life, retiring only recently, and was honored by his employer and by those he supervised when he left. He could hold his head high. He had learned that perseverance paid off. He knew, firsthand, the pain of criticism contrasted with the pleasure of success. And his experiences prepared him to be an exemplary father to his own children. They never had reason to doubt themselves. He was there to support them at every turn, encouraging them whenever they faltered. His own youth had served him well, if only by way of contrast. He knew what he didn't want his own children to have to experience, and they excelled in every way, just as he excelled as their father.
One of the upsides of being beaten down is that in response, sensitive people will cringe at the thought of beating anyone else down. Some, of course, will pass on to others that which they were made to experience, and many people don't know how to do anything else. But if the receiver has a loving buffer, like the wife Carl was so fortunate to have, he or she will learn and be able to practice another way of relating to the outside world.
Perseverance isn't accomplished as a single act. The beauty of Carl's story is the moment when he relocated at the suggestion of his boss. This represented a breakthrough in his search for a life that was different in every way from the one he experienced with his father close at hand. This was a courageous decision, the first of many he was to make that solidified his success in a life separate from the family that deadened his spirit. Perseverance may start with a single act, but it is ongoing and requires one's full attention. Fortunately, the payoff begins right away, making it all the easier to stay the course.
Another young woman I interviewed comes to mind. Her name is Valerie, and she survived—I use this term intentionally—one of the most dysfunctional families I was introduced to while doing research for this book. Valerie grew up in a small town in northern Minnesota. She was the youngest of four children. Both parents were drug-using alcoholics. And neither mother nor father truly parented the children. Fortunately, the grandparents stepped in.
How Valerie became so resilient and successfully persevered, creating a full and very successful life as a bilingual teacher, is a marvel to be privy to. Her deftness at navigating around and through the myriad landmines set within her family over the years quite literally changed my perception of the possibilities for overcoming what appeared to be “intentional abuse.” Many would have succumbed to a life of drinking and drug abuse themselves. The pills and the alcohol were certainly within easy reach for Valerie's entire young life. She saw going to college as an escape, she said. She didn't plan for a life beyond college. Nor did she really anticipate what college would be like. She simply knew she had to escape her family of origin if she was to live.
Perseverance is not a single act. It's ongoing.
Perseverance beckons whenever we are involved in an activity that fully engages us. This was true for Valerie. She discovered her love of language and her facility with learning another tongue. The excitement she felt helped to obliterate some of the pain of abandonment she felt nearly every day upon arriving home from school, and the pain of hunger at mealtime with no parent in sight. Seeking help from counselors, which she fortunately did when she went to college, got her over many bumps in the road. However, more than once she flirted with suicide during her college years.
The past clings unless we can comfortably put it to bed, and that takes effort. When our attention is shifted from our past dysfunctional surroundings and placed on ourselves and our own journey, miracles seem to happen. It's not an unusual response by a family to seek relief from their own addictions. Others in our lives deserve the freedom to make their own journey while we make ours. Indeed, this is the freedom everyone must have if we are to become who we were born to be.
When I reflect on perseverance and the many gifts it bestows on us, I'm reminded of Harry. He was a drug addict from an early age. We can't really blame addiction on our family of origin, regardless of our desire to do so when we first get clean and sober, but Harry's family was extremely dysfunctional. Choosing to get high, rather than relate to them, seemed like a good choice.
Harry's older brother was mentally ill and institutionalized on many occasions. His parents raged at each other and the boys. Harry was not a good student, not for lack of a good mind but because he lacked direction and focus. As soon as he was introduced to heroin, he spent more time in a stupor than in class.
When I first met Harry we were both new in recovery. He was a charmer, like so many drug addicts are. But he was learning to leave the manipulation in the past. Manipulation is a default position for so many who have lived on the edge with alcoholism and drug addiction. (I didn't escape its allure either.) Once you find success by manipulating others, it's hard not to turn to it, again and again. Harry had been a master, but he didn't want to live in that arena anymore. He was intent on changing. And in time, he did.
Perseverance is oftentimes doing more than is expected.
But let me turn to Harry's perseverance. When we met, he was a server in a restaurant. It was a high-end establishment, and his charm worked wonders. It earned him big tips and the attention of the owner, who soon made him the supervisor of all the servers. He loved the attention and the opportunity this presented. He took the job seriously and began to see where changes could be made in how the restaurant functioned. Before long, he moved into management and became the right-hand person to the owners. His perseverance paid off in spades. They looked to him as a problem solver and a visionary, and he loved the attention he earned and the monetary rewards too.
Working for others in the restaurant business lost its luster after a few years, so Harry formed a partnership with a friend, one he thought he knew well, and they opened their own establishment. No matter how hard Harry worked, he couldn't make the business pay off. What he didn't realize until well into the second year was that his partner was skimming from the profits. Harry's side of the business was to manage the staff and the kitchen. His partner, a man who had business acumen, was in charge of the expenses and the revenues. The balance sheet simply didn't add up.
By the time Harry fully realized the extent of the problem, the creditors and the IRS were knocking on their door. Many people would have filed bankruptcy and walked away. Harry had far too much pride and honesty to do that. They got themselves into the mess, so they needed to do the honorable thing and manage to find the money to pay off their debts. After closing the doors, Harry's partner disappeared, but Harry began the long journey back to solvency. He could have made excuses, blamed his former partner, and hung his head in shame. Instead,