Unapologetically Different

We can’t beat the positive impact of self-awareness and self-knowledge.  That is probably the biggest gift we can give ourselves.

Christian Vinceneax *)

I went to school with an odd bunch of students.  Overall, perhaps they were not as odd as they come, but the school had a reputation for being good at integrating children whom the normal school system had problems embracing, so we not only had our share of international students with less than working knowledge of the language, but also students who were acting out their frustrations, some that would have been in special education classes, had such existed, and quite a few very brainy but not very socially adept geniuses.  Today, many of these students would have had a diagnosis of one or more learning disabilities or neurodiverse labels.   Who knows, perhaps some already did?

One of my fellow students loved having stories read aloud, but only if she could sit on the teacher’s lab.  So, that was where you would find her during story time. Not as a sign of favoritism but as a needed accommodation.  And all the rest of us knew that – even as we were just in 1^st and 2^nd grade and wouldn’t yet have learned the word accommodation.

I am so happy that we are now talking about these additional challenges and gifts, as we can all learn together when people more openly share their stories – overcoming challenges, finding and employing gifts, and everything in between.

This also means that today there are better and more widely shared resources for those who face the challenges most intimately – as do so many more people than we thought only half a generation ago.  Perhaps normality itself was a fake construct of averaged averages?

This is a quote from a reader of Mark Manson’s weekly newsletter:

Many have shared with me either their own or a family member’s problems in school because these children are/were not very good at sitting quietly on a chair and concentrating for many hours.  Heck, no children should have to do that – most should be out running around playing and learning while they played.  Some learn from listening and some learn by doing.  Why do the schools only support the listeners?

Mac Bogert shared in his Substack how an adult class participant helped himself stay concentrated for several days by folding origami animals while asking excellent questions and contributing fully to the class.  I attended a full-day session where a participant likewise shared that she was going to be collaging on the side because it helped her, not because she wouldn’t be listening.  After our session she was almost in tears over how much more having been “allowed to fidget” and having that met with caring acceptance had helped still some of the noise in her mind and had increased her ability to be present for the purpose we were gathered for.  Had she only known sooner in her life.

I shared Mac’s story with my daughter who wondered how she ever was able to concentrate so readily in class.  I reminded her that she made notes in longhand.  Lots and lots of notes – with illustrations and probably a few doodles.  Girls are generally better at masking their neurodiversity than boys, but it also means that a lot of energy is expended on fitting in – “acting normal”.  (Hence the misdiagnoses that Mark Manson’s reader mentioned.)

It struck me after our discussion that my father would never do anything for more than probably 20-30 min. His list was long enough that he would work on one task, and then he would go do something else: mow the lawn, polish a window, chop some firewood, dig some potatoes.  He worked a lot and often that infamous fat briefcase was with us on weekends, but most of his memo writing was dictation done while walking around outside the house; the walking around also seemed to be how he spent many meetings at work.  It was embraced by the CEO and his colleagues that he thought best while moving around.

He never told us that he had problems in school, but perhaps they had more PE, woodshop, or other physical activities in generations past?  Like cleaning off the blackboard, filling the coal stove in the corner – or writing longhand…  Or perhaps he did have problems with “ants in his pants” and that – not his father’s disdain for academia – let him towards an apprenticeship after 9^th grade?  Unfortunately, it is too late to ask him.

My mother, on the other hand, would take forever to get started on most projects, but then she would continue until she was finished – even if it at times meant overdoing it so she would spend the next day in bed because she couldn’t move.

I am not above entertaining the idea that perhaps these different ways of doing stuff may have been exacerbated by coexisting in the same household.  And I am aware that the idea of walking around during a meeting 1) was probably easier if you were high in the organizational hierarchy and 2) would have different implications if the meeting were to be conducted on Zoom.  But perhaps, between earbuds and increased awareness about neurodiversity, moving about might be helpful for others than my father – neurodiverse or not.  (Andee Scarantino mentioned that one of her best Friendship Bench participations had been while on a 17-mile run around New York.)

What really made me sit down and write this piece, though, was remembering how many of us have learned some very limiting and probably not scientifically well-founded rules about body language.  If I hadn’t book–learned that sitting tapping one’s foot meant this person really wanted to be somewhere else, there would have been fewer situations where I felt judged as not very interesting by somebody’s assumedly subconscious body signals. That is hardly a message that softens one’s heart toward that person.

And who knows, perhaps they were just fidgeting exactly because they wanted to pay attention?

It is time we tell ourselves better stories about other people’s intentions – or perhaps ask them before we draw negative conclusions.

*) Quotes found in this discussion, well worth watching.