A Story About Stubbornness, Dreams, and Trusting the Pull – by Bob Poe
My son Evan has a gift.
Not the kind you hang on the fridge or put on a shelf, though he’s had his share of those moments too. No, Evan’s gift is rarer. It’s the kind of gift that makes you stop and say, “Well, there’s no arguing with that.” You see, Evan knows exactly what he wants—and he will not be talked out of it.
Evan has autism. He’s also the most fiercely independent, relentlessly determined, and stubborn-souled kid I’ve ever known. (And yes, I know exactly where he got it from.) And last week, he set his sights on something big: he applied to ClemsonLIFE, one of the top programs in the country for young adults with intellectual disabilities.
Now, let me tell you, I tried. Oh, I tried.
I pitched UCF, UNF. I hyped SEU. I even suggested ECU—yes, ECU. And if you know our family, you know that suggesting an ACC school that isn’t Carolina is basically sacrilege. But Evan? He wasn’t having it. Closer? Nope. Easier? Not interested.
He did his research. He weighed his options. And then he came back with a simple, unshakable answer:
Clemson or bust.
Here’s the thing about Evan: when he knows, he knows. And I’ve learned there’s a difference between a wish and a knowing. A wish is something you’d like to have if it works out. A knowing? That’s different. A knowing is something you move toward no matter what. Quietly. Stubbornly. Without needing anyone else to sign off on it first.
Evan has always had that knowing.
And let me tell you, that’s not autism. That’s something deeper. That’s calling. That’s the thing God plants deep in our hearts that doesn’t care about logic, or convenience, or a parent’s very reasonable suggestions about in-state tuition.
Now, we’ve been a Florida family for 15 years. Clemson isn’t exactly in the neighborhood. To make this happen, we’re going to need scholarships, funding, connections, and probably a whole lot of patience. (I’m working on that last one. Slowly.)
But here’s what Easter season keeps reminding me: the stories worth telling never take the easy road. The empty tomb wasn’t the convenient outcome. It was the impossible one.
Evan isn’t asking for easy. He’s asking for the chance to show what he’s made of. And as his Dad, I’m going to do everything I can to help him get there.
So, let me ask you this: Is there someone in your life—a kid, a friend, maybe even yourself—who has that same kind of knowing? That pull toward something bigger, even when the world keeps trying to talk them out of it?
I know that feeling well.
Maybe the most faithful thing you can do isn’t to offer an easier alternative. Maybe it’s to grab a map, pack a bag, and help them find their way to Clemson—or wherever their dream is calling them.
🐅 He is my most independent, stubborn-souled, relentless kid. And I couldn’t be prouder. Instead of telling him what he can’t to — I’m going to help him find his way….
#evantoclemson