TOUGH LOVE?

RS is half way through his first of four semesters in a wood working program at the community and technical college downtown. It's all very exciting and new for him and I'm rather impressed by his self motivation (he's often drafting projects and studying from his textbook) and ambition (his first project had an elaborate pattern of wood inlays). Unfortunately, he's experienced some serious clashes with his two "instructors" and their respective "style" of "teaching." I don't want to get into all the messy details because it is rather complex and I'm not even sure I understand it all completely. But I know it's big, because more often than not he comes home with a look of defeat burned into his face.

At first I'd just sit and listen to him, knitting my eyebrows together in sympathy. Sometimes I would offer up suggestions or make a few remarks, but now I find myself challenging him more and more. "Like, okay, your situation is like this, but now what can you do to make it better? What action can you take to improve things? Other people will be condescending or lazy, but that's their problem. Only you can be responsible for yourself." And that's when I usually stop, totally creeped out because I sound just like my dad. Is this what tough love is? Because without the love part, I just sound like an insensitive asshole.

I don't know what to do. And I'm having these curious sensations just under my sternum. Like my heart is trying to make a run for it. Flee from the cage of my ribs. Run away! Run away!