Tough Love

We all probably need a bit of tough love at times. I would like to share a story about how tough love from a beloved professor helped me to grow into a responsible adult and to build a few different careers that have been amazingly enjoyable, meaningful and satisfying for me.

Abe Rothberg, or Dr. Rothberg as I always called him, was the one teacher at St. John Fisher College in Rochester NY who knew me the better than any of my other teachers. When I was a sophomore English major, I absolutely reveled in the pleasure of reading and discussing books in his American Literature class. He was known as one of the toughest graders in the school and when I earned an A in his class, I was more than a little proud of myself.

Through my four years in college, Dr. Rothberg was the teacher whom I most looked up to and appreciated. He was a mentor, a guide and someone whose belief in me and in my capabilities lifted me up and helped me to believe in myself - at least some of the time. In truth, my effort and level of accomplishment were often inconsistent and unimpressive. When I was really committed, I excelled. When I was lazy, distracted, depressed or anxious, I did not do well at all. Yet through it all, Dr. Rothberg was available, pretty much on a weekly basis, to encourage me and to give me much needed advice about being a student and perhaps even a contributing member of society.

When I was a senior, my two best friends were all set to embark on their careers as officers in the Navy. Other friends were moving on jobs or to various graduate schools. I had wondered about law school as a career path and then realized that my aversion to details probably did not suggest a good fit between me and law. Looking back, I can recognize that I was stuck in a place of depression and anxiety and not sure how to get out of it. Amid this confusion, I started to skip classes for the first time in my life. I had difficulty sleeping and on one occasion walked out of an essay exam without writing anything at all because I was just too tired to think clearly.

Due to issues related to the energy crisis of the late 70’s, our school decided to shut the school down with an early spring break of sorts in late February or so. My friends and I took that week off, but we also decided that we would still head to Florida at the regular spring break time -even if it meant missing classes for a couple of weeks. Dr. Rothberg approached me one day to say, “Fitz, if you miss one more class this semester, I am going to fail you in British Literature.” I did not see any reason to take this admonition seriously and immediately responded with: “I am going to miss the next six classes because I am going to Florida with my buddies.”

When I returned to school with what little tan I could achieve as a fair-skinned lad of Irish descent, there was a letter in my mailbox from Dr. Rothberg, informing me that I had failed British Literature. I read it slowly and let it sink in. I did not defend myself or protest; nor did I ever speak derisively about Dr. Rothberg and his decision. I was generally accustomed to getting out of things with a bit of humor and a lot of bs. I realized that this was a time for neither. It was in fact time to be accountable and to grow up. I knew that this meant that I would not be able to graduate with my friends and before my family, as I did not feel right about receiving a blank diploma when I had not yet earned the right to have my name, Michael Edward Fitzgerald, on a college diploma.

It was right about this time that I was being instructed by someone in our career center to ask for a few references in writing. The first person I went to, in all my enthusiasm and naivete, was my long-time mentor, Dr. Rothberg. I was confident that this man who knew me better than any teacher, would surely be willing to write some positive things about me. Dr. Rothberg did not hesitate in responding to my request. “No, I could not recommend you. You were a much better student as a sophomore than you are now.”

Some forty years later, I am writing this in deep gratitude to Dr. Abraham Rothberg. In time I came to see that he did me two great favors in failing me and in not recommending me. I came to see that I was the one who failed to pass the class and I was the one who failed to earn a positive recommendation to which Abraham Rothberg felt that he could attach his good name. A less delicate way to say it is that he gave me the kick in the ass that I needed in order to begin moving in the direction of being a responsible adult.

The story does not end there. I stayed in touch with Dr. Rothberg for over thirty years until his passing. He came to know my wife and children and he continued to be a much-appreciated mentor and guide through several career changes. He would often take the time to write long letters on the old typewriter that he used to type a wide assortment of novels, history books and children’s books.

In a life that to this point has included work as a sales rep, campus minister, high school teacher and administrator, family therapist, search consultant and now, a life and career coach, I can honestly say that I have loved pretty much everything I have ever done for work. But before I could step up to meet any of the challenges and opportunities that came with each career choice, I first needed to wake up and grow up. Thank you, Dr. Rothberg, my teacher and mentor. Thank you for being tough and for your love and support -all of which I desperately needed.

Who is the Dr. Rothberg in your life? The person whose love -tough or otherwise - set you on your path or sustained or inspired you once you were well along your path?