Even during his early years, my son Max displayed a remarkable ability to fully engage with his interests. One of his earliest obsessions was with Thomas the Tank Engine. At just 3 years old, he would spend countless hours navigating a hand-me-down wooden train track set up in our living room, completely engrossed in the world of Thomas, Percy, and Gordon, crafting imaginative tales as he pushed the trains along the tracks. Following this, he delved into the musical “Hamilton,” playing the soundtrack on repeat during our car rides for months. This was succeeded by a brief yet intense fascination with Mixels, a now-discontinued Lego collection, and later, a deep dive into a Roblox game known as Bee Swarm Simulator. Each new interest consumed Max entirely, not only in the act of playing but also in the immersive experience of mastering the intricacies of these diverse worlds.
As his companion on these exploratory journeys, I often found myself by his side, whether it was maneuvering wooden trains into sidings or guiding digital bees in their quest for pollen. I actively sought out vintage Lego sets for him on online platforms like eBay and even took him on a trip to Washington to visit the Jefferson Memorial. While I occasionally attempted to redirect his focus from video games to historical literature, I quickly realized that his passions were uniquely his own, pursued in his distinctive manner rather than conforming to any external expectations.
While I took pride in his inquisitive nature and deep dives into various subjects, I couldn’t shake off a sense of unease that lingered within me. Immersing oneself in niche topics as a child can signify early intellectual curiosity, yet it can also serve as a potential indicator of underlying challenges or future struggles. The child who exhibits an encyclopedic knowledge of dinosaurs, baseball statistics, or the solar system may evolve into a groundbreaking scientist or a visionary entrepreneur, or they may simply remain stagnant, residing in their parents’ basement well into adulthood.
As Max matured, his explorations became more solitary, prompting a new concern—that his interests were leading him further apart from his peers rather than towards them. Max had always been reserved, taking time to warm up to new individuals and often finding solace in solitude. The onset of the pandemic, coinciding with his 10th year, exacerbated this tendency. While remote learning posed no academic challenges for Max, it exacerbated his social seclusion. Upon the resumption of in-person classes, he withdrew even more, cloaked in silence behind his mask. At home, he exhibited thoughtfulness, humor, and curiosity, engaging in storytelling and posing endless inquiries. However, once he stepped into the school environment each morning, a perceptible barrier seemed to materialize between him and the outside world.
During the pandemic-induced isolation, a new passion emerged that captured his imagination: birds. The allure of creatures capable of flight and soaring heights might have provided solace during the extended lockdowns, or perhaps birds presented yet another vast realm for him to explore. In Texas, our home state, the abundance of 47 warbler species alone offered a rich tapestry of distinctive markings, songs, and migration patterns for Max to delve into. He avidly borrowed bird books from the library, poring over them in bed, absorbing facts and discerning patterns, amassing esoteric knowledge. He frequented nature websites, exchanging bird identifications with enthusiasts many times his senior. At dawn, he ventured through fields with binoculars in hand, immersing himself in the avian world. Once again, he delved deep into this new fascination, and once again, I followed his lead. Together, we spent numerous weekend mornings strolling alongside the lagoons at our local sewage treatment plant, on the lookout for ruby-crowned kinglets and crested caracaras.