I was a twenty-one year-old recent college graduate about to start my two-year teaching career. My son just turned two. He had just learned to put more than two words together. The first full sentence I taught him to repeat was, “I’m gonna play shortstop at Stanford.” It was so cute. I’d ask him, “what are you gonna do when you’re big?” and he would respond dutifully. People still get a kick out of it. I thought that given 13-year-old me, add in better diet, homework, and sleeping habits, subtract poor near-future decisions about marijuana and alcohol, and playing ball at Stanford is a very real possibility. I was good at baseball, and had a genius-level IQ, and he inherited both. I could direct him to make better decisions with his health and study habits, and he could live a life I didn’t. My goal for him could still happen, which is tied for the second best thing in my life.

Kenny still recites his first sentence at 14. I did this to my young son because I know that people generally do what they expect themselves to do. If I could get him to expect to achieve a lofty goal like getting into Stanford, making the baseball team, and playing shortstop, then I’m only improving the odds that he achieves it. I’m also setting an expectation for myself, that I do whatever I can to get him there. At this point that means finding him great coaching and paying whatever it takes for equipment, tournaments, and criticizing every mistake he makes. 

That last one isn’t really a behavior that says, "I expect you to be great at this game", is it?  I don’t actually do that. Do I talk with him and players about their technique? Yes. Am I the best coach/sports psychologist in the world? no. I make mistakes and try to see if he knows what to do in the same situation next time, but I’m also the coach, and I have to set expectations that players learn from failure. 

Have I done everything I could have to get him there? No, probably not. I’m kind of a fuck-up. The aforementioned altered-state seeking behavior never really left me. I have lost two jobs because of it, and haven’t exactly been the best role model for my son. I cuss, I play more video games and sleep less than the typical adult, and I have a temper. I am depressed, and I have been for a long long time. I beat myself up a little, but for usually good reasons. 

Each of the outcomes, and behaviors surrounding them were expected. I expected them. In that darker corner of my mind, I believed I would eventually be fired at Pantheon. I knew I would not be able to avoid the free alcohol enough to sustain the level of health I needed to.  

I still believe he can get in and play at Stanford, and he does too. It will take a gargantuan effort on his part to pull it off. I know he has it in him. I fear our actions around baseball are reducing the probability it does, on a daily basis. He’s had mono twice in the past year and a half, which sucks. Two and a half years ago his rate of playing ball decreased significantly when we moved to the Bay Area for my new job. My actions might be telling him he won’t make it, and he’s probably adopted that expectation for himself. What are these actions? I’m critical of him for not watching as much baseball on TV as he could. I’m unemployed and have the time, but I don’t meet him after school to take ground balls. I didn’t aggressively try to get him onto any tournament or club teams since we moved here from Arizona. 

Earlier that year, I wrote a paper about the self-fulfilling prophecy. I turned it in as the final paper in two courses, ed psych and social psych. It fit, and I wish I had written this book back then. I was an expert on the subject, and I wanted to use it to give my son the life I had forfeited through addiction, depression, and laziness. Kennon is an amazing young man. I was pretty cool when I was his age, but this kid is better than me in most every way. He’s smarter, does his homework, 

My purpose for writing this book is to improve my relationship with my family. If I expect better and recognize the expectations conveyed by my own behavior, then I will see my life and the lives around me flourish. I will treat them better, and they will be better. I want to be better. “What do I expect?” while I’m raise my voice to “DO [INSERT DEMAND HERE! NOW!” while reacting to my kids’ defiance, threaten them, or coerce them, I stop. I realize I’m conveying many expectations, the worst of which is that my children behave the way I’m behaving, in order to get their way with me and other people. This very logically means that being forceful is not as efficient or as effective as compassionately communicating my expectations, without the need for compliance and thus without the possibility of coercion. 

I will form and convey true and positive expectations for him, and he will adopt them and improve on them and fulfill them. This book will chronicle my use of the self-fulfilling prophecy. Over the next few months, I’ll strive to ask myself the question, “What does X behavior indicate I expect of its witnesses?”