Category: Culture

A parent’s view from the psychiatrist’s couch

Posted on by Suki

In celebration of National Parenting Gifted Children Week, Great Potential Press is pleased to present a series of guest blog posts covering some of the biggest topics in childhood development and gifted education today. GPP author and blogger Suki Wessling takes a closer look at how parents can support their twice-exceptional children.

This is Part 5 of her guest series. Return to Part 1 for links to all the posts.

Have your own experience or perspective to share? Join the conversation on Facebook or tweet us @GiftedBooks or #

I promise that I am neither exaggerating nor joking when I tell you that I could have gotten any sort of diagnosis for my five-year-old daughter.

Confused as to why our bright, funny, active child couldn’t make it through half a day in a classroom,  we sought help from a child psychiatrist. She held up the diagnoses like a bouquet.

“Here we have ADHD, which comes with this lovely drug. Or you might want to choose Oppositional Defiant Disorder, which comes with a drug of a stronger flavor. Of course, there’s always Bipolar Disorder. The drug for that diagnosis is very popular with parents this year.”

Now I am, of course, being facetious. She didn’t speak that way, but the implications were obvious. She could see that we were desperate, and she was there to solve our problems with pharmaceuticals.

However, if she’d paused to ask us, she would have found out that we had a very different mission in mind. We didn’t want to know how to calm our daughter down—we wanted to know what was causing the problem in the first place.

I found the answers on the SENG website and in the book Misdiagnosis and Dual Diagnoses of Gifted Children, and those answers gave us the courage the fire the psychiatrist and seek completely different ways to help our daughter succeed in life.

You could say that I’ve offered a happy ending, but here is the way I look at it: I am a highly educated mother, a writer who responds to questions by getting out her smartphone and looking up the answer. My own mother is a medical researcher who supplies me with information from Medline. My experience at the psychiatrist’s office is a common one, but my reaction to it is not. Most parents bow to the authority because they don’t see any other choice.

In my daughter’s life, we have sought help from the realms of psychology, psychiatry, family medicine, family therapy, educational theory, alternative medicine, and traditional Chinese medicine. In that time, a few constants have held true across disciplines:

  • No one ever asked about her intellectual profile
    Despite the fact that the research is solid, easily available, and accepted by leaders in many disciplines, no one ever considered how giftedness might interplay with her behavioral issues. Not once did a practitioner recommend testing of any kind that might relate her problems in the classroom to her learning styles and needs.
  • No one ever asked about her diet
    Parents of autistic kids upend their entire families’ diets because of the amazing results they see. Parents of kids with Down Syndrome see fantastic improvements with nutritional supplementation. Yet, despite the evidence, gifted kids are treated as if they have no special needs at all. Pediatricians should hear alarm bells when the parents of a delightful, highly verbal four-year-old say that he always throws fabulous tantrums in the mid-morning. Everyone should have “reactive hypoglycemia” on the tips of their tongues. But not one practitioner ever mentioned it to me.
  • No one ever suggested that the problems were with her environment
    It took hiring an educational consultant (not paid for by insurance) to get the straight dope on a kid like mine: “I can’t imagine a school that could serve her needs,” the consultant told me. So why couldn’t all the teachers, school principals, and everyone else suggest that perhaps school was the problem? School administrators are so sold on the idea that one-size-fits-all education is good for all kids that it doesn’t occur to them that their method can’t possibly work for all kids.

I think that the misdiagnosis of gifted kids is tied into our general cultural uneasiness with distinguishing “smart” kids from other kids. It’s like our culture is still in the high school locker room, unable to get past jocks vs. nerds.

But if we are truly trying to serve all kids’ needs, then that’s something we have to get past. Pediatricians should feel comfortable telling parents of obviously gifted kids about resources they might need when they run into trouble. School administrators should admit when their school doesn’t serve a child’s needs, and be ready to offer information and advice to parents who need it.

Finally, psychiatrists need to stop viewing high intelligence—and the accompanying overexcitabilities that send parents into their offices—as a disease to be masked with drugs. My heart goes out to all those families raising children with severe problems for which drugs are truly an answer. But it is simply wrong to offer drugs to high-IQ kids instead of advice about understanding typical psychological profiles, dietary needs, and appropriate educational environments. Drugs should be the last resort, not the first option.

Continue to Part 6.

The Difficult Question of Gender Identity

Posted on by Suki

In celebration of National Parenting Gifted Children Week, Great Potential Press is pleased to present a series of guest blog posts covering some of the biggest topics in childhood development and gifted education today. GPP author and blogger Suki Wessling takes a closer look at how parents can support their gifted children – in this post, when it comes to gender identity.

This is Part 4 of her guest series. Return to Part 1 for links to all the posts.

Have your own experience or perspective to share? Join the conversation on Facebook or tweet us @GiftedBooks or #NPGCW12, and you may see your comments featured in a future post!

When my daughter was still a preschooler, pretty in pink with long, curly blond hair and a charming smile, I started to watch the way older girls acted and dressed as they approached puberty. I wondered how I was going to help my daughter through the difficulty of being a girl in our society. And that was even before I knew what kind of girl she’d be.

At about the age of six, my daughter decided to do away with girlishness. She insisted I cut off her gorgeous locks. She moved to the boys’ section of the clothing store. She developed an abiding interest in weapons and potty language. Her favorite book was Captain Underpants. Except for her undying love of baby dolls, she declared all things girlish “stupid.

Despite my being a woman who appreciates the finer parts of girlishness, I supported her decision not to follow gender norms she didn’t like. I agreed to cut her hair, though I warned her that she would be taken for a boy. She decided this was a consequence she could accept. I tried to squelch the potty talk in public, but there was no stopping it at home. My husband and I successfully moved her from Captain Underpants to King Arthur, which at least had literary value.

But the fact is, my daughter suffers the consequences of being an unusual girl on a daily basis. Despite telling some people repeatedly that she’s a girl, she is often referred to with masculine pronouns as if the speaker is unwilling to accept a girl in boys’ clothing. Teachers expect her to “act like a girl” and often come down on her harder than they might a rambunctious boy. Other kids make open, hurtful comments about her.

All this, and she doesn’t even go to school.

School is a minefield for all kids with gender differences. Gifted kids, according to research, are less likely to adhere to gender roles than other kids (see Webb et al., Misdiagnosis). When you add giftedness and gender differences together, you get a lot of fodder for bullies.

My daughter is homeschooled, and most of the above experiences happened in the context of homeschooling. You’d think I might think twice about homeschooling, but the fact is, these experiences have been few and far between. Homeschooled kids, in general, are so much more accepting of differences because they haven’t been socialized to enforce conformity. I know that things would have been much worse in school.

Not long ago a homeschool group we belong to took part in a science workshop. Included in the group were my daughter, a boy with long hair who wears girls’ clothing, and a boy with long hair who wears boys’ clothing. After the workshop, our group received a letter from one of the teachers. She said that as a transgendered person, it was heartening to work with kids who accepted each other’s differences with respect, unlike most of the kids she works with.

It was lovely to hear that, but it also made me think of all the gifted kids in school who suffer because of their gender identity. Although many schools are making the right moves toward creating a more supportive atmosphere, the enforcing of conformity is still alive and well, and often has tragic results.

I have no idea what kind of woman my daughter will be. A friend tells me that her daughter dressed like a boy until puberty, when she suddenly changed without comment. Sometimes my daughter muses about growing her hair out, and since her softball team was forced to wear pink uniforms, she has decided that wearing pink isn’t the worst wardrobe nightmare by far.

But no matter what kind of woman she grows up to be, I want her to feel comfortable in her own skin. I want her to know that whoever she wants to be is fine with me, with her father—with everyone who loves her. And those people who feel threatened by someone who doesn’t follow their expectations of gender roles? I’ll just remind her of her attitude when she was six:

Those people are just “stupid”!

Continue to Part 5.

Why I advocate for gifted children

Posted on by Suki

Parents with kids designated “gifted” have a choice to make: When they’re out in public, will they use the word? You’d be amazed at how often I see this theme recur on gifted parenting lists: “Do you tell people your child is gifted?”

Of course, parents have no trouble admitting to their children’s other qualities. You don’t hear people trying to find ways not to refer to their kid’s red hair or skill at catching a baseball. But somehow, when your kid is smart you’re supposed to hide it. Some parents go so far as to deny it—they don’t want their children set apart.

In my case, I had no interest in the word until I needed it. We were having troubles with our second child that didn’t fit any parenting manual, and didn’t fall neatly into any psychological profile. I finally found the answers amongst literature about gifted children. Like other parents of gifted kids, I found my parenting manual in A Parent’s Guide to Gifted Children.

The thing that I’ve noticed since is that in general, people really don’t understand what this is all about. The most common reaction is confusion—my old reaction: why do you care?—but I also get people thinking that I’m bragging about my kids, thinking that I’m some sort of pushy helicopter parent who wants to promote her kids, and probably lots of other unflattering things I haven’t heard.

So why do we care?

There’s a national organization dedicated to gifted children. There are many state organizations. They all have conferences. Teachers get special training. Parents seek each other out on the Internet and in person. All of us care about gifted kids and their welfare. But why? Aren’t gifted kids automatically successful? Aren’t they every teacher’s dream? Aren’t they bound for success and happiness?

Well, no. We care about the welfare of gifted kids because things aren’t always so rosy for them. Yes, I’m sure you know a kid who’s a straight-A student, has the most wonderful boyfriend, is polite and kind and well-mannered, plays violin like a dream, volunteers at her local soup kitchen, speaks three languages, and, well, you get the picture. There are gifted kids like this, and they don’t need much help. For whatever reason, they are thriving within society as it’s presented to them. (It’s also possible that these kids are getting a lot of help you don’t see.)

The gifted kids who need advocacy are the ones who aren’t thriving. They are more often bullied than kids of average intelligence. They are more likely to have unusual sensitivities and have trouble with social interactions. They are more likely to check out at school if their teachers aren’t trained to deal with them. And surprisingly, they are more likely to drop out of high school than kids closer to the academic median.

It’s true that these kids sometimes come out ahead in the end—choose your favorite billionaire Silicon Valley nerd. But they suffer a lot of pain and risk being lost as productive members of society because they don’t get the help they need. And those of us who advocate for these kids think that is just as much a shame as when other kids are at risk. These kids are not better than other kids; they’re just kids and they need help.

How and why are gifted kids different?

The How is much easier to answer than the Why. First of all, there does seem to be a correlation with the sorts of mental acrobatics tested by IQ tests and various patterns of development. Gifted kids are:

  • More likely to show asynchronous development. This means that they are “many ages at once”—a math-smart fifteen-year-old boy who still cries easily or a six-year-old with adult verbal skills and a two-year-old’s temper tantrums. [Read more about asynchronous development.]
  • Likely to exhibit what are called “overexcitabilities.” They have certain quirks that are more easily triggered than the general population. It’s very common for gifted kids to show sensory processing disorders, to become belligerent when they are bored in school, or to need to run around and flap their hands when they are learning something fun. [Read more about overexcitabilities.]
  • Likely to learn in fundamentally different ways than the “average” child (whatever that is) such that classroom learning can be frustrating and fruitless for them. Gifted kids’ learning speed often means that they so quickly grasp the material presented that they become disruptive in the classroom, asking the teacher questions that derail the discussion. Also, lots of gifted kids are visual-spatial learners. They simply don’t learn from reading a textbook and never will. It’s not uncommon to hear from parents on gifted parenting e-mail lists whose kids had gone from a special education classroom to being designated at the very top of the IQ scale. Sometimes giftedness looks like something else. [Watch a video about misdiagnosis of gifted kids.]
  • Often found to have learning deficits that mask their strengths. So-called “twice-exceptional” kids suffer doubly, from the same frustrations in the classroom and social groups, and also from the fact that they often don’t get help for their LDs due to their ability to mask them. [Read more about 2e kids.]

Why gifted kids are different is under much discussion at the moment. The question is being looked at by everyone from neurologists to popular writers. Stay tuned for the conclusive answer. But parents and teachers of gifted kids can tell you that they are clearly different, whether by nurture, nature, or something much more complicated (my opinion).

Are gifted kids “better” than other kids?

This is the crux of the matter. This misconception stems from two roots: First, the longstanding anti-intellectual tradition of American culture. Think we don’t have a longstanding anti-intellectual tradition? Just read a few biographies of gifted kids of the past. Torturing the smart kid isn’t a new phenomenon. The dislike and distrust of smart people is so deeply rooted in our culture parents are afraid to describe their kids as smart for fear it will elicit a negative reaction. Second, there’s that stupid word: “Gifted.” The word implies a value judgment. It implies that other kids don’t have gifts. Many of us who write about gifted kids prefer a neutral term like “non-neurotypical,” but that’s a mouthful, and that’s not the one people recognize. (Also, spellcheck hates that word!)

The designation of gifted is a description, not a prediction. Gifted kids are no more likely to be successful than the general population, no more likely to be happily married, no more likely to win the lottery. But intelligence is, in fact, part of the description of some activities. So you will see that Nobel Prize winners are more likely to be gifted. You will see fewer math-savvy people winning the lottery (because they don’t play). You will see more voracious readers teaching in college classrooms. Silicon Valley entrepreneurs largely fit the gifted description.

But none of this is surprising. If you trade a gifted brain for height and coordination, would it surprise you that taller, more coordinated people are more likely to become basketball players? But in the end, it’s the people who work hard, have some lucky breaks, and believe in their own capabilities who achieve success. Giftedness is not a ticket to success—it can just be one of the cards in a winning hand.

Do I think my kids are special?

Sure I do, and I hope you think your kids are special, too. But I don’t think there is anything fundamentally more special or more important about any “type” of person. Old sayings like “it takes all kinds” don’t become old sayings for nothing. This world would be one heck of a terrible place if we were all alike. And this world is a worse place when any child is not able to reach his or her potential.

I was chatting with a woman recently who told me her daughter’s story: She said, “She really hated school, so I took her out. She decided that she’d just skip high school and go straight to college. She’s eighteen now and on her way to university… to get her PhD.”

Would the world really be a better place if that girl had been forced to sit through high school because it’s “what we do”? Would it really be a better place if she had been forced to hide how smart she was to get along with others? Not all gifted kids end up starting PhDs at eighteen (I doubt mine will), but all gifted kids are kids with special needs. And like all kids with special needs, our society benefits when those needs are taken care of.

From the archives: Nine pet parenting peeves

Posted on by Suki

I have been cleaning out the files on my computer and found this piece that I wrote when my daughter was in preschool…. she’s nine now. So it’s old news, but what’s amazing is how fresh it is. I still agree with all of it! I think I stopped writing because I’d called the piece “10 Pet Parenting Peeves” and just couldn’t find a 10th. So I publish it here in its original form.

1. Your child is in constant danger from strangers

A well-meaning friend of ours once expressed shock that we allowed our son to play alone in the front yard. “Aren’t you afraid of someone coming by and snatching him?” he asked. “Well…no!” we answered. According to the U.S. Department of Justice, about .01% of abductions “stereotypical” kidnappings, i.e. stranger abductions. That leaves us with the sad fact that if you want to take care of your children, you should be most suspicious of the people around you. Most children are kidnapped because of a messy divorce or by a mentally unstable relative or friend. According to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, “The most important thing you can do to prevent abduction is to maintain healthy communication with your children and spouse.” None of this means that you shouldn’t be aware of your children’s surroundings and prepare them to take care of themselves if they need to. But a sensible family can come up with sensible rules that allow your children some freedom. Resources: missingkids.com

2. Anti-bacterial soaps keep us healthy

Study after study proves the same two facts: First, antibacterial soaps do not clean any better than normal soaps. As long as you wash with appropriate soap for the appropriate length of time, you will be just as clean. And toys treated with antibacterial coatings? Pretty much useless against the daily onslaught of little critters in our environment. The second reason is much more important: antibacterial soaps are contributing to resistant bacteria. How big of a problem is this? Well, you’ve probably read lots of scary front-page articles about bird flu, but most doctors are much more concerned about the fact that they can no longer cure some of the most common infections with anything but the strongest antibiotics. According to the FDA, “About 70 percent of bacteria that cause infections in hospitals are resistant to at least one of the drugs most commonly used to treat infections.” Resources: fda.gov, niaid.nih.gov

3. SUVs and bigger cars in general are safer for your family

Again, the information is there if you want it. In fact, the New Yorker ran a fabulous—and scary—article on this topic not too long ago. Bigger, heavier cars are not necessarily safer. I found myself biting my tongue one day when I heard a friend tell another person that his wife got their car because it was “safe”—when I knew it to be rated one of the more unsafe vehicles on the road. SUVs are top-heavy, which gives them a tendency to turn over. Also, they are generally harder to control, and more likely to be involved in accidents because defensive driving is more difficult. If you want to protect your kids, get a good ol’ safe and boring minivan, or even a smaller car that handles well and performs well on crash tests. Resources: consumerreports.org, The New Yorker

4. Watching TV can be good for your child

Let’s be clear about this. TV is entertainment. When we watch entertainment, most of our brain is turned off. We are experiencing pleasure. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t experience pleasure, but like most pleasurable activities, it’s best to do it in moderation. People try to defend their children’s TV-watching by saying that they try to get their kids to watch educational TV, or that they are afraid their kids will be social outcasts, or that their kids whine and scream if they aren’t allowed to watch. But none of that changes the facts. First, babies should never, ever watch TV. Children under two who watch regular TV score lower on IQ tests for a reason—researchers have found that their brains pretty much cease development while the TV’s on! Older kids who watch TV can absorb a fair amount of knowledge, but not any more than a kid given a choice of good books. And they are much more likely to be exposed to things that cause them anxiety, aggression, and depression. I remember reading about a study that showed that American kids who watch lots of TV show traumatic stress similar to kids living in war zones. (Wish I could find a citation for that study…) You need to turn on the TV in your house the way you should put out food. Look at it and decide if you really want it to become part of your child’s body, because they are sucking it all in. Resources: limitv.org, aap.org (ps: We do watch some TV in our house!)

5. If a package says “healthy,” you should feed it to your child

Parents are the second-best suckers in a field of gullible consumers. (Kids are the best, that’s why advertisers spend so much money on them.) We are so happy to buy things because they are easy—you can just throw a package into the lunchbox and you’re done. But we really can’t believe what labels say. A good rule of thumb is this: If something is marketed toward kids, it’s probably not a good idea to feed it to your kids too often. There are some healthy foods that are marketed to kids, but they aren’t the norm. The food issue ties into the TV issue. Without ever watching a single program, our daughter recently found out about Dora. Now when she sees things in the store with Dora on them, she must have them, regardless of whether I think they are appropriate things for her to buy. The cross-marketing of entertainment and foods is a huge business, and even PBS is in the act. Resources: commercialfreechildhood.org, kidshealth.org

6. A school’s test scores are important, and the corollary argument, private schools are by definition better

Even the best-educated people I know are starting to be worried about their school’s test scores. The campaign to make us fear our schools and second-guess our teachers is having success at the most fundamental level: it has started affecting how we think and make our decisions. We did “due diligence” when we chose a school for our son. We visited all the public and private schools that were an option for us. What we saw and heard from the many parents and educators that we talked to is exactly what we expected: test scores say very little about whether a school is the right place for your child. Anyone who has studied the theory of standardized tests knows that there are two qualities that standardized tests test most accurately: the socio-economic status of a child’s parents, and the child’s natural ability to think in the way that the test rewards. English language learners, tactile learners, physically active children, children with ADHD, children from homes without books, and even children whose families don’t sit down for regular family meals all score lower on standardized tests. None of these attributes is anything your school has any control over. Private schools can weed out the low test scorers, and public schools suffer when the parents of higher test scorers are suckered by the myth that their schools can’t serve them. But what it comes down to is this: is your child happy at his school? Does she want to go there and learn? Do his teachers know him and care for him? Are you involved with the school so that you can help to fix problems when they start? If we all ignored test scores and paid more attention to the schools themselves, our kids would be better off. Resources: alfiekohn.org, rethinkingschools.org

7. The age when your child starts to read reflects future success

Continuing from our current obsession with high test scores, we find the associated obsession with trying to “make” our children read at an earlier and earlier age. No matter that in the most literate country in the world, Finland, kids don’t start reading instruction till second grade. No matter that any parent of a normally intelligent child will tell you the same story: he resisted and resisted and suddenly, as if by magic, he started to read. Reading skills are developmental and thus come at different ages. The mother of a child in my son’s first grade class was infuriated that her child hadn’t started reading by December. But by May, she was doing just fine. Any parent knows that kids never do things on our schedule! There are many wonderful things we can do to support a child’s readiness to read, including having books in our homes, reading books to our children, reading books in the presence of our children so that we model the behavior, pointing out the letters they know on signs, playing reading readiness games with our preschoolers, and more. But nothing good is going to come of this mania to have “the earliest reader on the block.” The kids who are ready to read will read, and the kids who aren’t are going to be stuck with the stigma of being a slow reader right from the start. Don’t parenting books always tell us to set up our kids for success? Forcing kindergarteners who aren’t ready to start reading is setting many of them up for failure.

8. Active children are “hyper-active” and need to be medicated

I have a very active preschooler. I have to admit that recently she found a bottle of sunscreen and sprayed it on each and every article of her clothing, removing each piece from her drawers and reveling in a job well done. She had a great time. I was furious, of course. But what makes me even madder is that even I, someone dead set against medicating kids for normal behaviors, pondered the ease of putting her on a drug that would “calm her down.” Our society is into easy fixes, and this easy fix, I’m sure, will turn out to have some serious complications down the road. The ease with which people are choosing to medicate their kids these days makes a mockery of the pain and difficulty faced by parents with kids who actually have real problems, who aren’t just extreme examples of normal kids. As mad as I got at my daughter for the sunscreen incident, I could only be thankful that she hadn’t done many of the worse things that I know a child with a serious disorder might do.

9. Boys will be boys and girls will be girls

By chance we got one of each of them. And by chance, I can assure you that I have learned that sex stereotypes may be true for many kids, but they aren’t true for all of them. Our little boy loved pink and sequins and anything beautiful. He hated getting dirty and gravitated toward the girls in his play. Our little girl is feisty and headstrong. She’s one of the toughest kids in her preschool (following in the steps of another girl of our son’s class who was also the toughest kid). When you say things like, “aren’t little girls so sweet?” and “boys just never stop running,” you create a world in which kids who don’t fit generalizations are misfits rather than part of the lovely continuum of humanity. Our son could grow up to be a sports announcer and our daughter Miss America, but we’re going to give them the chance to be something else. And you should too.

On Moral Fiction

Posted on by Suki

I have a book, pages yellowed and stiff as if I’d been born much earlier than I was actually born, that my brother gave me when I graduated from college. He inscribed the front page, which is why I know when he gave it to me. Otherwise, I’d have to depend on my memory, which is a bit stiff and yellow about the edges, too.

The book is John Gardner’s On Moral Fiction. I don’t know if anyone reads Gardner much anymore. I know that men of a certain age, who were already stiff and yellow about the edges when they were my writing professors, loved John Gardner. I never had much use for his fiction, which seemed to be speaking to an audience much older and male than I was, but I did like this book. And I was touched that my brother would give it to me as I finished school and was about to embark on my life of art.

Fast-forward a few years, and my brother is in advertising, and I’m a homeschooling mom, but the book hasn’t lost its relevance. I skimmed it and found that my young self had helpfully underlined all sorts of important bits. Amazingly, they sound just as important to me now as they did then.

Gardner wrote, “Nothing could be more obvious, it seems to me, than that art should be moral and that the first business of criticism, at least some of the time, should be to judge works of literature (or painting or even music) on grounds of the production’s moral worth.”

He goes on to say a lot of things, but the main point I took from his argument, and have held onto ever since, is that whether you try to or not, any time you create a work of art you are making a moral statement. So since it’s unavoidable, you might as well think about what moral statement you’re making, just in case it turns out you’re making a statement that you don’t really want to stand behind.

This comes up now because my kids and I have spent the last two years – the time in which both kids have been homeschooling – listening to lots of audiobooks together in the car. When my son was in school, it was too hard to share books because his sister and I would want to listen while he was in school. But then our lives coincided a bit more and it became a project of sorts. We have listened to three series that I think Gardner would have had strong opinions about, had he lived to read them.

First, we listened to all of Harry Potter in the space of a few months. It was an interesting exercise – HP started to invade my thoughts about everything. It is clearly a series that has a lot of compelling content. But in the end, after all that build-up, I felt like we experienced an enormous group shrug. OK, well, good thing it’s over now so we can listen to something else.

It’s not that we didn’t enjoy it – we all did. But in the end, it seemed like there was so little to sink our teeth into. Harry, as a friend of mine pointed out, really didn’t “grow” that much as a character. He started out pretty good, he stayed pretty good, then in the end his goodness triumphed over evil, just as predicted.

It wasn’t an immoral tale, certainly. But I was left wondering, Does HP give us anything to aspire to? Have we learned anything? Do we feel better equipped to face the challenges of our lives? The answer was that resounding group shrug. It was a good tale, worth listening to, and I don’t think it damaged us to listen to it. But if Gardner is right, HP’s ambivalence is a statement in itself, a message where one was not really defined.

The second series we got into started simply because we found out that the author had published the first novel as a homeschooled teen. That sounded interesting, so we decided to check it out. The series, Inheritance, is all the rage with young teens I know. It certainly was a gripping tale, full of swashbuckling fighters, glorious dragons, lithe elves, and Icelandic-style scenery as a backdrop. Our hero, Eragon, is a farmboy who becomes a sort of accidental hero after he finds a dragon egg. Eragon has to grow immensely into this role. Nothing is ever easy for him. (Believe me – by the 50th time you read that Eragon felt some part of his body give way as he did some amazing deed… you get the point that he’s suffering!)

We were stymied in finishing the series, however, because I refused to buy the audiobook and the last book had a long waiting list at the library. So while we waited, we started on our third series, which we’re just finishing. This series, Tiffany Aching by Terry Pratchett, has a lot of surface similarities to Inheritance: made-up land, lots of magic, fairy folk. There the similarities end, however. Pratchett is a master writer with a slew of adult novels under his belt. His books not only feature a sly, intelligent humor that makes you sure this man knows what he’s doing—they are also firmly grounded in a moral universe of Pratchett’s making.

We finished Inheritance because we’d come so far and we needed to know how it ended. By the end, we were referring to it as “Blood and Guts” due to the enormous amount of violent imagery. The author would often pause to have his hero bemoan the amount of violence he was required to engage in—a nod toward morality—but then again he would rise up to drive his sword through an endless parade of bodies, telling us in gory detail about the sinews snapping, the fluids draining, the surprised looks on the doomed faces.

The other thing that hit me wrong about the series was indicated by the name: This series of books is all about how you can’t change your destiny. You are who you are, you are fated to be swordsman or victim, and you play your part no matter what. In the end, Eragon has learned many things, but the biggest lesson he’s learned is that none of his struggles changed anything. He’s on the white ship sailing off to his destiny.

I have to say that I found this a repugnant message to give young readers. As Gardner said, whether you mean to teach a lesson or not, what you choose to put into your fiction teaches a lesson. And the lesson learned from Eragon’s travails is that some of us are just born with great drama, and it doesn’t matter what we do to the little people on our rampage across history.

It’s so interesting that the end of Inheritance was sandwiched in between visits with Tiffany Aching. Tiffany is also a farm girl who gets caught up in something much bigger. But on every step of her journey, Tiffany pauses to think. She notices how her actions affect people. She makes decisions, and she takes responsibility for her decisions when they hurt other people.

The first three books are largely free of any gross violence. The fourth, I Shall Wear Midnight, starts with a shocking scene. A 13-year-old girl is beaten so viciously by her father that she loses the baby she’s carrying. Plenty for me to cringe at as the book opened and we listened in the car. However, by then I trusted Terry Pratchett, and he has not violated that trust. He is a writer who wields his pen with great assurance. There is no ambivalence about right and wrong, no sense that there’s no reason to fight, never a suggestion that someone can’t grow into being something more than they are today.

My kids had probably never heard anything so personally, horribly violent as they did at the beginning of Pratchett’s final book in the series. Nothing in HP or Inheritance was so personal and true to life. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get into discussions about just how and why a 13-year-old gets pregnant! But I don’t regret letting them listen to it. By the end of the book, Tiffany has unraveled the mess, not to make it perfect, but to make it as good as she can.

And that’s why she’s good, and why she’s moral, and why, if I wanted my kids to emulate any of the many people we’ve gotten to know in the last year—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Eragon, Arya, Roran, Rob Anything, or even Slightly Bigger Than Wee Jock Jock (gotta read Pratchett to understand!)—my vote is for Tiffany. She’s a hardworking, imperfect, thoughtful person. She’s not always nice, because she knows that nice is not always the most important thing.

But she is moral, as are her books.

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