Culture Archives : Page 3 of 51 : Suki Wessling, writer

Review: Getting gifted homeschoolers (almost) right

Posted on November 22, 2021 by Suki

The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl
by Stacy McAnulty
Random House, 2018

As a teacher of gifted learners, I am always interested in how they are portrayed in kids’ books. Generations of smart kids had to see themselves portrayed as clueless, clumsy, antisocial idiot savants. The Great Brain aside, it was definitely not cool to be smart.

And then there’s what mainstream writers do to homeschoolers. They’re weirdo Christian separatists who have never learned how to behave in polite society. At least sometimes they get to be vampires, too.

Stereotypes don’t come from nowhere—there’s almost always a kernel of truth. But it’s a writer’s job to go beyond the stereotype and find the real person.

Stacy McAnulty does just that in The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl.

This middle grade novel presents us with a familiar gifted homeschooler: Lucy is very weird. Struck by lightning when she was younger, she’s now a middle schooler who’s never been to school, whose OCD makes her stick out in any crowd, and who is immediately the target of Maddie, the alpha dog bully of her grade. Lucy is in school because her grandmother, who’s her guardian, believes she needs to be socialized. Yet another homeschooler/gifted kid stereotype.

But that’s where the stereotypes end, and the real child emerges.

First of all, Lucy does not buy her grandmother’s arguments for a minute. She knows that she’s not the problem—other kids and adults are the problem. Her grandmother (a wonderful character despite her stereotypical belief in the fallacy of socialization) has raised her well. She’s a self-possessed, thoughtful kid who makes the thoroughly believable choice not to let anyone know just how smart she is.

As she tells the girl who becomes her best friend, Windy, her OCD already makes it clear she’s weird. She doesn’t need any other baggage.

Charmingly, Lucy thinks her way through the problem and calculates how to get through this mandatory year of socialization. Just the fact that she’s able to do this disproves her grandmother’s opinion that she needs to be socialized—she gets what the other kids and the teachers need, and she sets about giving it to them.

She purposely becomes an A student, good enough to get into the college she wants to attend—but not a perfect A student. She calculates how to do just well enough not to gain too much attention.

She knows she’s not going to be acceptable to most of the other kids, so she doesn’t try. She presses on fulfilling her own needs for order (she has to sit and stand three times before sitting down in class) and cleanliness (the kids call her “the cleaning lady” because she wipes down every surface she comes into contact with using disposable wipes she carries in her backpack). But she’s thoughtful and kind to the other students, and soon at least two of them notice and accept her.

The miscalculation in the title does not refer to her attempt to deceive the others—she fits in well enough that the kids and teachers don’t guess just how smart she is until various circumstances lead to her unmasking. Her miscalculation is that she’ll be able to ride out this year without forming real friendships, experiencing real growth, and actually learning something (though not necessarily what her teachers think she’s learning).

I loved how realistic Lucy is, how all the characters (even the bully) are well-drawn and sympathetic, and how the book gets past almost all of the usual stereotypes and gifted homeschooler tropes.

I finished with only one question: Why does it take a strike of lightning to make Lucy smart? Why can’t she just be a generic smart kid, born that way? I know that the lightning offered a fun opportunity for characterization. But it’s a bit like writing a story about a white kid who wakes up Black and has to face racism. Why not just write about a Black kid?

Gifted kids are real. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them do have disabilities (called twice-exceptionalities in the gifted world). Some of them are socially awkward.

But they’re all people, and they deserve to be integrated into our schools—and our literature—as fully human and deserving of the same care and respect as everyone else. The fact that the author chose to make Lucy homeschooled gets at an ugly truth: Our society can be very, very nasty to kids who don’t fit in. Teachers largely don’t like being corrected. (Lucy actually keeps her mouth shut when her math teacher makes a mistake on a problem, for good reason.) Kids don’t like being bested, especially when it’s so easy for the gifted kid to do it. (Lucy is careful not to be the best at anything.)

But gifted kids are not an accident, not a strike of lightning. They’re just one side of the wonderful rainbow of human variability. Let’s just accept them and move on.

So yes, this is a great book for your gifted kid, but when they ask why they are the way they are, make sure they know that they are no accident. They are exactly the way they’re supposed to be.

Books Featuring Homeschoolers

Armchair expertise strikes again

Posted on October 27, 2021October 27, 2021 by Suki

I have to tell you: I am so relieved that my neighbors commenting on our local fire department’s Facebook page are such skilled wildland fire fighters that they know exactly what went wrong with a controlled burn near my town a couple of weeks ago. To think that the burn had been entrusted to people who have studied, trained, and risked their lives for years—people who need to be paid, outfitted, and managed!

Really, if the crowd on social media had been in charge, it would been just fine.

Not.

Have you noticed that Armchair Expertise seems to be at an all-time high? After I used the phrase “armchair traveler” with my students recently, I did research to find out where it came from [here’s the answer]. That was the same day that my neighbors exploded with “advice” for the fire fighters whose controlled burn, meant to mitigate fire risk in the hills nearby, jumped the lines and was briefly the talk of the neighborhood.

Fortunately, the fire fighters did just fine without my neighbors’ help.

I realize that know-it-all advice from people who can’t be bothered to get up and actually help probably started with the cavemen….

You know, Ogg, if you’d used a flint-tipped arrow instead of that spear, you might have brought home more meat for me.

…but lately, it’s become a reflex, enabled by the media people consume and fueled by the ease of social media.

It all started with reality

Reality TV, that is. I truly believe that the rise of Reality TV in the 90s is at the root of a lot of our recent cultural changes. Personally, I never watched it. But I did notice a change in how people seemed to perceive their role in events that didn’t concern them.

Before Reality TV, people tended to get a view of events that excluded them. When you watched the evening TV news, you didn’t expect that your opinion would be addressed. And when you watched a fictional storyline unfold, you had no sense that you, an everyday person, were in there. It was fiction, created for entertainment. News was information, created to inform you.

Reality TV, along with 24-hour cable news, did away with that separation. We were supposed to believe that the Survivors really were fighting for their lives, and that we really could be one of them. We were led to believe that our opinions about the news were of equal importance to the news itself.

Then reality went social

It got worse with the arrival of social media. Suddenly, you didn’t have to take out a piece of paper and write, find a stamp and send, when you wanted to express your opinion. You didn’t actually have to show up at your school board meeting. You didn’t even have to face your real, live neighbors when you could just pretend to be a neighbor on NextDoor.

There was a lot of pushback in the past about the “gatekeepers” who were controlling the media and not allowing real voices in. These days, it feels like we could use a few gatekeepers!

The result: a lack of respect for expertise

Armchair everythings abound in our society. Armchair epidemiologists argue with the people who actually went to school and actually learned how to read data. Armchair legislators hate everything their government does but can’t be bothered to get to work to make change. Armchair psychologists can tell you exactly what’s wrong with you, but apparently haven’t learned the phrase, “physician, heal thyself.”

In many cases, this false expertise is pretty harmless. Yeah, it’s really annoying to hear your buddy who never held a movie camera critiquing a cinematographer’s camera angles, but the only person who looks bad is him.

But it really makes me sad to watch a group of people criticize the fire fighters who are out there—right that moment—busting their asses to protect the people criticizing them. The fire fighters did, indeed, let a controlled burn slip its bounds. “But remember,” I felt like yelling into my computer, “they were doing that burn at risk to their own lives to save your miserable hide!”

And I don’t even want to go into the public vitriol that has led a record number of public health employees to leave their jobs.

Armchairs are for sitting

I don’t think that being the citizen of a democracy should be a spectator sport. Of course, if it turns out that there was negligence on the part of a public employee, that should be exposed. Our democracy secures checks and balances and a free press for just that reason.

But this armchair criticism of every single action of our skilled public employees is doing no favors to our democracy. So many people can’t be bothered to take part in our public discourse without constantly trying to undermine others, as if they think they are contestants on Survivor, hoping to be the last one on the island.

All alone.

With no one else there to put out their fires.

‘First world problems’ are everyone’s problems

Posted on October 11, 2021October 11, 2021 by Suki

We recently had a series of disasters at our house, from rats eating our plumbing to a solar flare knocking out our Internet. Inevitably, while we were navigating the maze of construction-during-Covid, someone used the phrase “first world problems” to remind me that not having plumbing in our kitchen isn’t the worst problem to have.

I understand the phrase and I get its point: I know that my life is easy compared to the lives of many humans on this planet. I try to be conscious of the gifts I was given as an accident of my birth. Our family tries to live economically, pollute as little as possible, support others, and give money to good causes.

But that doesn’t mean that I like that phrase, because frankly, it misses the point.

Orchids and dandelions

One piece of psychology research that particularly fascinates me explores a phenomenon that every one of us has experienced: given the same privileges and the same challenges, no two people react the same way.

You’ve seen it if you have siblings: despite sharing the same genetics and environment, you responded differently under the same circumstances.

Given the same challenge, one person will feel energized and move forward, while another will fold. Given the same bad event, one person will cheerfully continue, while another will fall into despair. The size and magnitude of the challenge is not important. There are happy people living in abject poverty and miserable people living in comfort.

This phenomenon has been named “Orchids and Dandelions,” referencing the sensitivity of the former and the hardiness of the latter. It turns out that what you notice in your siblings is true: given the same challenges, people do not respond in the same way.

Relative despair does not translate

So which is worse, the opiate epidemic of the 2000s or the crack epidemic of the 1980s? Are you willing to make that judgment?

I’m not. The crack epidemic was concentrated in (though not confined to) inner city Black neighborhoods. The opiate epidemic is concentrated in (though not confined to) white suburban and rural populations. Whose relative despair was greater? Does it matter?

I believe that it doesn’t. Each human experiences their own life within the confines of time and space. We can know that others are suffering more in some relative way, but that doesn’t necessarily mitigate our own suffering. In fact, the most miserable people living comfortable lives in the US may in fact be more miserable contemplating the misery of the poor of Bangladesh.

Relative despair is simply not meaningful.

First world problems are human problems

When someone replies to your expression of despair with the phrase “first world problems,” they are dismissing you. They are saying that your despair is not valid, that by expressing your despair, you are insulting the millions who suffer greater physical distress than you do.

It’s truly an offensive phrase. And I say that even from the perspective of someone who does not suffer when being on the receiving end of it.

I know that I largely fall on the dandelion end of the spectrum. I did not suffer greatly from having to wash dishes in the bathroom sink, and in fact, although I swore some and expressed my annoyance at times, I largely did take a “look on the bright side” view of it.

But I also know people for whom the series of minor, first-world disasters that we’ve lived through in the last month would have been emotionally devastating. And their despair would not be relative. It’s despair, and despair sucks.

Compassion comes first, no matter what “world” you’re in

No matter how we move through this world, we have to keep compassion as the tool that we use to navigate amongst our fellow humans. And I say this as someone who has to work hard at compassion. I get angry thinking about the way some people bring on their own problems. I get annoyed at orchids I know who seem to melt at the first rays of sunshine that hit them. I know I’m not an exemplar of the advice that I’m doling out here.

But when I hear someone slight my little despairs, I think of the people for whom such a slight really would be hurtful. I know that despair over a kitchen sink is not the same as despair that you can’t feed your child or escape a war zone. But it’s despair, and despair is real.

‘First world problems’ is a nasty little phrase used to wound and shame. We can do better than this. We must.

Fear of saying anything at all

Posted on August 31, 2021August 31, 2021 by Suki

As an interviewer, I have noticed what seems to be a growing trend. Perhaps it’s not a new trend, but it has been standing out more and more starkly in interviews. I’ll attempt to get my interviewee to something, anything quotable, yet they keep falling back into vagueness, empty jargon, and platitudes.

I’ve been pondering why this is, and then an interview subject gave me a clue. This person had just made a vague statement about ways their program had been successful. So I asked, “Can you give us an example of one particular success?”

Now, let me press the pause button here and tell you something that anyone who leads others knows: People do not notice or remember generalities. They notice and remember specifics. If you want people to think about global climate change, for example, don’t list off a bunch of generalities about the terrible things that might happen. Talk about the hurricane that just destroyed their neighbor’s home.

So that’s what I was doing: asking someone who should know how to talk to people a pretty straightforward question. Their answer?

“I don’t want to leave anyone out.”

The FOMO effect

Much has been made of the Fear Of Missing Out effect created by social media. Your friends post charming photos of their vacation, and you wonder whether your little roadtrip measures up. Or people you know post raves about an event they went to and you wonder why they didn’t invite you.

I think this trend toward vague language starts here, with the sense that if you celebrate any one particular thing, you’re denigrating something else. This of course is completely untrue and ridiculous when you think about it. Does your 60th birthday party mean that someone who’s 58 is not as good? Does your job promotion, your kid’s award, or your friend’s rad haircut mean that everyone else who has not achieved those things should be ashamed?

Don’t look too close at the FOMO effect or you might start fearing that we’ve all gone completely insane.

Inclusion should not lead to fear

But there’s more to this growing vagueness of speech than just fear of leaving someone out. I believe this fear is based on the very real and very valid wish to be inclusive. As everyone in our country becomes more aware of how groups of people have been systematically and systemically excluded from the pursuit of happiness and security that we are supposed to have access to, we are reacting in a variety of ways.

Some people are reacting by shutting down, digging in, and sticking their fingers in their ears. I wish they were also saying, “la la la” but the things they are actually saying are so offensive I won’t contribute to their strength by addressing it here.

Looking at the rest of us, we are reacting to the growing understanding of exclusion by working to be more inclusive—and that’s the right thing to do. Every organization I am involved with is working to be more to be more inclusive and more thoughtful about how their activities are structured.

This is all good, but it’s also leading—I believe—to fearful behavior that we need to resist

The fear of leaving out

I include myself in this, so please don’t think I’m pointing fingers. I think this is a cultural trend, not an individual failing. I believe that as people are working harder and harder to make statements that are exclusive, they are moving further and further toward language that says nothing at all.

It goes something like this:

I want to make a statement about something important
Wait, what if my experience shows that I’m benefiting from some sort of privilege?
Oh, no, what if when I talk about my experience, I leave out someone who has been left out before?
OK, let’s see, I need to first apologize that I can’t experience this in a way that includes everyone
Then I need to remove any specific references to my experience
Then I need to make sure it’s inclusive of every possible person and circumstance
Phew! Now I’m ready to…issue vague pronouncements on nothing in particular.

Result: mealy mouths

In case you missed it: “mealy mouthed: afraid to speak frankly or straightforwardly.”

That’s us. That’s all of us who are reacting to our desire to be inclusive by including…no one and nothing. I’d love to offer a solution here, but right now, I’m at a loss. I don’t want to make anyone feel bad. I’m the person who obsesses about every little thing I said at a gathering, wondering who I insulted, what I did wrong, who I left out, whether I wore a face that looked friendly.

Really, it can be noisy in here.

But I guess all I’m saying is that this problem—like many problems—will partly be solved just by acknowledging it. We can’t react to wanting to be inclusive in a fearful way. If we do say something exclusive, apologize and move on. I realize this seems hard in our cancel culture, but it’s a time-honored tradition. Humans screw up, then we move on. So if it’s advice you seek, I guess that’s it:

Speak your mind, then if you need to, apologize and move on.

But please, spit out the meal in your mouth and get to the point!

Resist irrationality: fight or flight in a time without lions

Posted on August 10, 2021August 10, 2021 by Suki

I’ve been thinking about a problem we humans have. I can express it in a formula:

Fight or flight response
+
Triggering media
+
Safest time ever to be a human
=
Extremely illogical behavior

Let’s pick that apart:

Fight or flight response

The fight or flight response is a very important function of our “lizard brain.” It’s what gets you to stop and fight when there’s a threat you can manage, or run like heck otherwise. It floods your body with adrenaline, gets your heart pounding, sends oxygen to your muscles, and leaves you totally exhausted and drained when it’s over.

We humans obviously needed this in the past. When faced with a hungry lion, we needed to be able to bypass our pre-frontal cortex “professor brain” and act quickly. But although fight or flight is very useful in situations of physical danger, it’s become maladaptive for modern times.

+ Triggering media

A lot of what modern media does is to tap into our lizard brains. Youtube cranks, 24-hour news, and social media all benefit when our hearts are pounding and we are full of emotion. They don’t do so great when we’re feeling calm and rational, because that’s the time when we’re more likely to want to hang with friends or take a nice walk.

The reason we like to be triggered by scary movies, news that makes us angry, or reading about the latest insults being traded by a comedian and a Fox News host is that it feels good. Our fight or flight response is set up to give us a huge payoff if we respond appropriately. Why? So that we feel up to doing it again if we need to.

So we like triggering media precisely because it makes us feel like we’ve been chased by a lion… and lived to tell the story.

+ Safest time ever to be a human being

This is a really hard one to get through to people. We are living in the safest time ever to be a human being. Don’t take my word for it. Read the numbers! Even with Covid, we’re still better off than we were (especially before the invention of antibiotics and vaccines).

And the things we’re actually scared of—sharks, strangers, earthquakes—are actually not that dangerous. Take a look:

Causes of Death in Comparison

= Extremely illogical behavior

There was a burglary on my block. As is often the case, the criminals were not the brightest of bulbs. They were caught because, um, they left the iPhone they stole from the house ON and it was pinging their location all the way to Nevada.

Oops.

But that doesn’t stop my neighbors from worrying that the endtimes are nigh, and shouldn’t we be recording the license plate of everyone who drives onto our street? Unfortunately, systems like that result in way more harm to innocent people than they do to criminals being thwarted.

When our children were little, we were the only family on our block that allowed our kids to play outside alone. We do not live in a war zone! (In fact, people in war zones often allow their kids to play outside. What choice do they have?)

Our country was much more dangerous in the 1970s, when my husband’s parents let him ride his bike over the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan and my parents didn’t ask to meet the parents of kids I visited. Yet parents now seem to believe that a child-snatching stranger is always hiding in the bushes.

We’re suffering from maladapted flight-or-flight, and we have to consciously resist

Yes, bad things happen. But bad things don’t stop happening when you shut yourself into a padded room. That’s how you make sure that a bad thing really will happen: You will be stuck in a padded room!

Yes, the human population is currently being ravaged by an awful disease. But the fact that someone was probably killed in a car accident near you in the last week doesn’t stop you from driving. The fact that multiple people near you died of heart disease doesn’t stop you from reaching for that éclair. Our media is terrifying us, and it feels good. The only way we can stop it from feeling so good is by resisting consciously.

Yes, the future of our beautiful planet is currently a bit bleak. But people who focus on bleakness, who revel in the human attraction to fatalistic, negative thinking, don’t get stuff done. And right now, we need people to Get Stuff Done. Global climate change is terrifying, and it’s making us freeze in place. We need to resist that urge and move forward.

Resist by being informed
Resist by being educated (and not by the University of Google, but by experts in their respective fields)
Resist by learning ways to calm yourself and practicing all day every day
Resist by being open and loving toward other human beings
Resist by not going immediately to fear-based decision-making

Category: Culture