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Sunday, Nov. 22, 2009

Can’t never could, never did

Adam Tolbert has been hearing the same three words his entire life.

Can’t never could.

Those those five vowels and nine consonants often raced through one ear and out the other, never bothering to throw an anchor into some gray matter.

Other times, they only served to fuel the fires of bitter disappointment.

Adam could never understand why so many people had faith in him when he had so little confidence in himself.

In three weeks, Adam will blow out 33 candles on his birthday cake. Four days later, he will receive his bachelor of science degree from the Terry School of Business at the University of Georgia .

He will be surrounded by so many family members he had to call the registrar’s office and beg for extra tickets. His wife, Kathy, will be there. His 3-year-old daughter, Mabry, will get to see her daddy graduate.

Adam doesn’t consider himself a crying kind of guy, but he expects there won’t be an off-switch on the emotional irrigation system this time around.

“I’m almost afraid I’m going to wake up and it all be a dream,’’ he said. “I’m having to pinch myself.’’

Adam was born with cerebral palsy. It was not a severe case, but it was enough to affect the motor skills on the left side of his body.

His parents divorced when he was 2 years old. His mother, Cindy, did her best to give him a equal blend of encouragement and challenges. When he was 5, she insisted he learn to tie his shoes by himself. She would not let him get up until he figured it out.

He wore braces on his legs until he was 6. He remembers the day he had them taken off at the Shriner’s Hospital in Greenville, S.C., then riding in the car to the Payless Shoes on Gray Highway in Macon for his first pair of athletic shoes.

He could not take his eyes off his feet on the way home.

“Breaking out of those braces was my Forrest Gump moment,” he said.

But when his family moved from Jones County to Macon, he never could seem to overcome some of his lingering physical limitations. He was taunted and teased at a succession of schools, both public and private. No matter where he went, it followed the same familiar pattern. The bullies came after him. Kids can be cruel.

“I would come home from school and tell my mother I was never going back,” he said. “I tried to fit in, but I never felt like I did. I self-destructed. I quit trying.”

He failed the ninth grade. Twice. He was suspended for fighting. By the time he got his driver’s license, he had developed a covert method of cutting class.

He would show up for home room, answer roll call, then slip away to the parking lot. He would drive off and hide out in the shadow of a radio tower a few miles away. When he got hungry, he would head to Burger King. When he got sleepy, he took a nap.

His mother was never notified until the school sent a note indicating he had missed 55 days of classes.

Eventually, he became a high school drop-out. “It just wasn’t working,” he said. He never went to the prom. He never heard his name called at graduation.

Adam did make the decision to get his GED, though. He enrolled at Macon State College but quit after two weeks. He was just not the college type.

He held down a variety of jobs, from working at Fountain Car Wash to a timber business. He painted houses and was an employee of public works for the city of Macon.

He applied for a job at Donaldson Garrett & Associates, a local surveying business. There was a question on the application, requiring him to list any disabilities that might prevent him from doing the job. He lied and wrote: “No.” Three days later, his boss found out.

“Someone stuck up for me and told them they should give me another chance,” he said. “I had that job for eight years.”

He met his wife, the former Kathy Kendall, and they married in 2002. She encouraged him to get a college education.

He was terrified.

“Going back to school was my worst fear,” he said.

After all, he was the fellow who ran at the sound of a textbook opening. He was the guy whose dog ate his homework. Every day.

Adam spent two years in business administration at Georgia Military College in Milledgeville. He graduated with honors and was elected president of student council.

The “no cry” guy certainly shed a few tears of joy when he received his letter of acceptance to the University of Georgia’s business school. He began classes in family and consumer sciences in January 2008 at UGA’s satellite campus in Griffin. He has made the 104-mile round trip four days a week for the past 22 months.

It has been an amazing journey. As life got tough, he got tougher. He has earned a black belt in tae kwon do. He has become an avid mountain bike enthusiast, using a bicycle with special adaptations.

Adam is now considering graduate school. Or maybe law school. Or maybe becoming a teacher.

Of all the lessons he has learned, perseverance is the one he most wants to share with others.

“Never give up,” he said. “Anything is possible. You never know where life is going to lead you.”

Reach Gris at 744-4275 or gris@macon.com.