A Father First: How My Life Became Bigger Than Basketball (23 page)

Fuel for the fire.

Aside from that growth, I look back today at all the steps of the journey to make the team at Marquette and can see how each challenge served a purpose as a test of faith. Not that I ever fully doubted that God had a plan. But there had been lows, I confess, when I couldn’t see the grand design or the possibility that what had seemed like the worst thing that could ever happen turned out to be the best. And that strengthened my faith, making me believe that if I could overcome and make it this far, so, too, could my loved ones—especially my mother, who at that time was being overwhelmed by her struggle.

Being at Marquette, a private Catholic institution, reinforced the importance of being connected to my faith. That was part of my thinking in choosing to wear the number
3,
to symbolize the Holy Trinity—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

With a heart full of gratitude and a mind-set ready for every possibility that the university and life itself had to offer, I savored the rest of my freshman year and took advantage of any opportunity extended to me over the summer to advance myself as a student and athlete. The icing on the cake was that at the end of that summer of 2001, I qualified for an all-expense-paid trip to Europe to train with some of my teammates and other top collegiate players. Talk about life rolling out the red carpet for me!

Foolishly, so foolishly, I imagined that all the major struggles were soon to be over, that the toughest tests and trials were all behind me.

Not so. Most of the tests so far had only been a warm-up. And besides, with my fatherhood journey about to begin, the stakes were soon to become that much higher.

T
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5, 2011

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IN OUR HOUSEHOLD, ZAIRE IS THE KING OF ALL MEDIA. VIDEO games, music, funny YouTube videos, all of it that’s suitable for his age. After homework, before the boys’ nightly routine of getting ready for bed, we take some lessons from Zaire, who is pretending to give me some pointers while also kicking my butt at our favorite video game, NBA2K

When the video music comes on, the three of us start laughing for no reason and kind of nodding to the groove. Then Zion starts to dance. Aw, yeah, he’s doin’ the Dougie!

“Go Zion go!” I tell him as his dance gets more and more wild. If Dada was here, he’d be the master. But Zion is really good. In fact, a short time later he’ll ask to take hip-hop dance classes. “You know you probably get your dance talent from me,” I say, still losing badly to Zaire.

The boys crack up. They think I’m a terrible dancer. I can’t imagine what makes them say that.

Zaire pauses his game controller and he starts to Dougie as only my nine-year-old son can, adding in comic moves and faces that make me want to fall on the floor.

“Hey, if I didn’t have my injury I’d get up and we’d have a contest.” They can see that the thigh contusion is still wrapped and I do have a solid excuse.

Again, sitting here just appreciating the gift of time that we have to spend together, I’m reminded of the insight that has been helpful to me as a dad—the fact that kids really do thrive when parents, coaches, and teachers take the time to key into what’s special about them and what they can use by way of help and interest. With encouragement, as I’ve seen consistently, kids really want to please. It’s true of my boys and it was always true of me as a kid.

This may sound too basic but after I took a couple of parenting classes and after reading up on the issue of how best to help our children to succeed, I think it’s empowering to start with two principles: (1) That kids want to make their parents proud and (2) that we, as fathers and mothers, want to be good stewards of the lives that we’ve been blessed to nurture.

Yes, it can be hard. Parenting requires focus, establishing boundaries and priorities, and can sometimes be thankless and demand sacrifices. I also am aware that my situation, resource-wise and with our family support system, puts me at an advantage. But the bottom line for me is that there is no more important job in life than that of being a parent. So it’s all worth it. I promise.

Zaire and Zion have always made me feel proud to be their father. I know my children are also very proud of my role as Daddy.

But am I their favorite basketball player? Well, I thought so, until a day or so later when I heard both kids out on the basketball court name-checking their favorite player. What a flashback to my days in the backyard of my family’s house, when I was playing with my brothers, taunting them with “Whoa, look at me, I’m Michael Jordan!”

Who was the favorite player’s name my kids were calling? Was it their dear old dad? Nope. It was their basketball idol: “Whoa, look at me, I’m LeBron James!”

Part
Three

Chapter
Seven

Miracles

S
UNDAY
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15, 2011

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VER THE PAST FIVE WEEKS SINCE BEING GIVEN FULL CUSTODY of the boys, Sunday dinner has become one of the highlights of our week. Well, since we’re making up for lost time, being with the kids makes every day—morning, noon, and night—a highlight. That’s as far as I’m concerned, and I’m always looking for ways to make every day special and celebrate just being together.

But Sunday dinner is like a holiday unto itself. I love listening to Zaire and his knowledge of so many subjects and to Zion’s unique, creative contribution to the conversation. I love answering their questions and coming up with new discoveries—thanks to seeing life through their eyes.

Earlier in the mornings on Sundays, the boys sometimes go with Tragil to the church she has belonged to since moving to Miami and where they have a youth service the boys are able to enjoy. As long as I don’t have a game, I try to plan a low-key family outing, like going to the park or to a movie. On certain occasions when we just really need some together time, I’ve created what we call Man Time, where the three of us do something cool that men enjoy doing. Like once we went to a wrestling match. Another time, because it was raining too much we stayed inside, got out a small table, and had fresh-baked cookies with ice cream in my room. The other thing I like to do during our Man Time is have our Man Talks. Sometimes we get into serious questions that can go well or not so well. There are even lists on the Internet of important questions for parents and kids to ask each other. Our Man Talks are great opportunities for me to talk about how I grew up and some of the challenges of my life that are different from theirs.

Sundays and Man Time can also offer the opportunity for my sons to join me in any of the events that are connected to Wade’s World, my foundation, which mainly benefits underserved communities in the three states that have helped to feed me—Florida, Illinois, and Wisconsin. The boys get a chance not only to appreciate how blessed they are but also to see opportunities for giving even at their age. Or sometimes we will just get in the car and go for a drive to neighborhoods not so far from where we live where people are living hard lives. Gotta say, Zaire and Zion are men with big hearts who want other children and their families to have what they do.

Our main Sunday theme is pretty simple: appreciation.

We all come to expressing and feeling gratitude differently, I know. But I also think that like anything else, you can practice the habit of being appreciative and become better at it over time. In my parenting research, I’ve read that one of the common complaints of divorced or single parents is a concern that their children might prefer living with the parent who gives them more things or can afford a nicer lifestyle. These parents worry further that kids being raised in those tug-of-war contests will become spoiled or feel entitled to special treatment. Ironically, that same research shows that what’s really wanted by children of divorce, as well as children being raised by single or surrogate parents, like all children, are the fundamentals: love, security, encouragement, structure, and involvement by their parents.

The best approach I’ve learned to encourage the habit of expressing appreciation—the attitude of gratitude—is by modeling that behavior myself. A little goes a long way. Even just the use of “thank you” and “please” and “you’re welcome” can help set an appreciative tone in a household.

Can you overdo it? Not unless you’re phony or forced. Most of our kids do have a built-in BS monitor. Timing can be important, too. I have to be mindful that my boys have had their share of turmoil and uncertainties.

After all, it’s hard trying to feel grateful when the world feels like it’s crashing down. At the same time, I’ve also found that in those dark times nothing shines a light more than paying attention to the miracles.

My life has been blessed with more than a few.

FOR MOST OF THE TWO WEEKS OF THE 2001 SUMMER TRAINING camp I attended in none other than Florence, Italy, I had a chance to live a dream that surpassed my own fantasies. Though we didn’t stay in a fancy hotel or have much time for sightseeing, I was enchanted. For a student athlete on scholarship, training-table meals were already manna from heaven. Add to that all kinds of pasta and delicious Italian specialties. And the people in Florence could not have been friendlier. Everywhere we went, we were treated as celebrities.

Then there was the architecture, like nothing I’d seen in the United States, as well as all the paintings and statues, and my first real exposure to the Italian sense of style. At nineteen, I knew something about exotic sports cars made in Italy. And I’d heard the names of Italian designers—as part of what hip-hop culture embraced. What was new was seeing the designs firsthand and appreciating, say, the fine cut of men’s suits or fabric and color. Being able to afford that level of style was not yet tangible.