It was a hot summer day in Charleston, South Carolina. For anyone who knows the Low Country in the summertime, that means it felt like a hot yoga class outside. The only chance for reprieve was an ocean breeze. 

That day, my mother enlisted me to help her clean out some boxes in the attic. The air was thick and heavy in there, the sun cooking the roof above our heads as our shirts stuck to our backs. No chance for an ocean breeze. But my mom didn’t seem to mind. She was always down to roll up her sleeves and get work done, whatever the conditions. 

This was during my high school years – I was probably 16. At that point in my life, I was aimless. I was like the feather in the opening scene of Forrest Gump. Floating around in the wind, unconcerned with where I might land. 

By this point, my mom’s parenting style had become passive. My older brother was out of the house. She was tired after raising both of us as a single mom. The hand-holding was over. She no longer tried to discipline me, or tell me what to do. But whenever she asked me for help with something, I always agreed out of respect. Even cleaning out an attic in the heat.

I was moving stuff around the attic while she went through a box of her personal mementos. She pulled out a small framed placard and tossed it to me. “Check this out,” she said.

I read the placard: Phi Beta Kappa

“What is that, some kind of sorority you were in?” I asked.

“No, Phi Beta Kappa is an honor society for college students. The oldest and most prestigious one. It’s reserved for the best of the best.”

I stared at it for a while. Her next words hit me like a rock between the eyes:

“You’re smart enough to get one of those, but you won’t because you’re not focused. It takes discipline,” she said. 

Then she grabbed the placard out of my hands and put it back in the box. 

I was stunned. She had never said anything like that to me before. She was always so supportive and encouraging.

I slumped my shoulders and finished my attic duties silently, her words ringing in my head.

Deep down, I knew she was right. I was smart enough – school came easy to me. Pretty much anything I applied myself to, I was able to do. I had a lot of talent – the “it” factor. But in those years, I was meandering. Up the creek without a paddle. Lost in the woods without a flashlight. I was hanging around the wrong people and already getting into a party habit.

My years from 14-17 were the most misbehaved of my life. By a long shot. 

I think my mom knew that the only way to get through to me was to switch up her approach. Encouraging me wasn’t working, so she flipped it. Reverse psychology.

Fast forward about 6 years later, I was finishing up my senior year in college.

A month before graduation, I called my mom and asked her to come to a meeting with me the following week. I made it sound mundane – just a final gathering of my professors and other university folk before I graduated. She said “sure” and didn’t ask many questions. 

The day arrived and my mom pulled up at my apartment. She was still dressed from her job as a hospital executive, sharp and professional. Perfect. We drove through campus and arrived in front of the University President’s house. 

There was a big sign out front: Welcome to the Class of 2004 Phi Beta Kappa Inductees

She was floored. First because I had preserved the surprise. And second because I remembered what she said to me in the attic all those years ago. 

“Wow Sam, you did it! Welcome to the club!” she said as she hugged me.

She beamed with pride as we strolled into the elegant reception. We shared a toast of champagne. I doubt either of us stopped smiling the entire night. I’ll never forget it.

——

What my mom said to me that day in the attic lit a fire under my ass. Quietly, I started making a shift that summer. I took a hard look at my friend group and saw some bad influences I needed to weed out. I developed more discipline with my daily routines. I grew up. It was a turning point.

When I got to college, I was ready – more mature. As a freshman, I investigated the criteria for becoming a member of Phi Beta Kappa. Then I reverse-engineered the admittance requirements and worked towards my goals. I maintained discipline and got the job done. I never let anything become a priority over my studies. It paid off: I made the dean’s list every semester and graduated magna cum laude.

I wanted to show my mom that I wasn’t only talented, but also determined and willing to put in the work.

So her reverse psychology worked. I’m sure she knew what she was doing when she said those words to me on that hot summer day in the attic – intentionally saying something discouraging for the first time after a lifetime of encouragement. 

Upon reflection, it was a gamble – it could have demoralized me. But I think she knew that it would motivate me, and that’s why she gambled. 

And boy am I glad she did.