Working to Their Potential, and Mine

"Potential." That's a loaded word, isn't it?

I read a blog post recently on the About.com Kids' Clubs site that dealt with parental disappointment over children's failure to reach athletic potential. Guide Heidi Coghlan shared her frustration at seeing her daughter under-achieve at big gymnastics events.

It reminded me of a similar conversation I had with my sister-in-law not long ago, about the way my niece tended to sink below her natural level of ability in important swim meets.

For these parents, it seems, the meaning of "potential" is clear: a level of excellence that a young athlete has a responsibility to self and teammates to achieve. Other parents carry that over into the academic arena, with students earning less than top marks seen as squandering potential for future success and contribution to society.

For many parents of children with special needs, though, "potential" isn't even that easy to define, much less press for.

We wonder: Is his current educational program maximizing his potential? Is she getting the therapy she needs to meet her potential? Does he have the potential to graduate high school, to go to college at all? Does she have the potential to ever have a life of her own, a spouse, a child?

Missed potential for a typically developing kid might mean settling for a less impressive college due to grade slacking or a disappointing season. Missed potential for a child with challenges might mean failing to obtain important skills at all before developmental doors slam shut.

Like all parents, we feel pressure to make sure our kids are all they can be. The stakes feel a lot higher. But maybe the flipside is that the victories that bring us joy can be a lot smaller.

Judging by the abysmal scores my kids keep getting on triennial evaluations -- the official word on their "potential" -- the two of them are absolutely stellar over-achievers just for getting up in the morning and going to school with a smile.

My son plays on a softball team in which every player gets to bat, hit, round the bases, and come on home. They're not going to be sending anybody to the big leagues, but they have a lot of fun, and everybody cheers for everybody else.

My daughter gets invited to the annual Academic Achievement Awards dinner at her high school, not because she gets a 90-plus GPA like everybody else there, but because her teachers specifically nominate her for her hard work, conscientious effort, and positive attitude. I have to believe those things are going to prove more valuable to her than being valedictorian.

I do still worry about "potential," and whether my kids will reach theirs, and whether anybody will ever even figure out accurately what it is. But in terms of the ability to care about others, enjoy life, and keep things in perspective, I think they're right on target. Me, too.