Wired a little differently

Around the time I started to coach volleyball, at the young dumb age of 25, I started to realize how different people were. It was obvious in kids, as their personalities developed and their abilities varied. At some point much later, when I had opportunities to manage adults at work, I realized it was really true for everyone of all ages. With that realization comes the idea that while everyone should be equal, it doesn't mean there aren't different ways to treat people.

At no time is this more true than in education, I'm learning. The funny thing is, I should know this from my own experience. I think back, and in retrospect, I could have been labeled with all kinds of things that didn't have diagnostic names back in the day. I remember being scolded by grade school teachers for not showing my work with addition. While the teacher would say 36 + 49 means add 6 and 9, carry the one, I would see 36 + 50 = 86, then subtract 1 to get 85. They would probably label that as something in the autism spectrum today.

By the time I got to high school, I started to struggle a little with honors classes, not because they were hard, I just didn't give a shit. I remember getting to the first week of the A.P. math class, where we were supposed to prove that 1 was greater than 0. I couldn't believe it. I dropped that class like a bad habit. That would probably qualify as ADD today.

When I got to college, on an impossibly high ACT score (96th percentile) and remarkably average GPA, I found some things pointless and scraped by, but would blow the curve on something like broadcast law. By then I started to see a therapist, not for any specific reason other than it seemed to help one of my friends figure out herself. He had me do an IQ test that implied I was a few points away from genius, something I wouldn't tell anyone until years later because it embarrassed me relative to the other metrics that indicated I was average. I was told through much of my youth that I was smart and lazy.

The take away from those experiences was that I might very well suffer a bit given the social contracts and expectations prevalent in our culture. At some point, I stopped worrying about the "smart and lazy" label, and accepted that perhaps I was wired a little differently than other people. I owned that, for all the good or bad that might be associated with it. You can modify your behavior to the extent that your brain will allow it, but if you have to fight it at all times, I think you'll be miserable.

That realization didn't come until my early 30's, not surprisingly when I was in the midst of a divorce and questioning everything about myself. What came after that was a few women who understood me and loved me for who and what I am (Diana be one of them, obviously), and a growing circle of friends who also understood me, at least enough to want to be my friend. These days, it's nearly impossible for me to understand people who spend a lot of time digging deep into the reasons a person is or is not someone they choose to associate with. I can't imagine overthinking it like that.

Now I'm a dad, and Simon's doctor would like him to be tested for ASD, SPD and such, because of the concerns with his developmental delays. That can be a little scary too, because of the overwhelming concern that your own child will potentially be categorized and labeled. It's not a good feeling to have as a parent. But the thing is, while I can see how the markers might in fact indicate an "issue," I can also see a kid who is surprisingly smart in ways I wouldn't normally expect (his crazy navigation ability comes to mind). He's making progress, even if he is still behind, and any diagnostics that help us figure out how to help him will be a win.

At the end of the day, he's still our boy, even if he's wired a little differently. I am too. I can't control, nor will I concern myself, with the way family, friends or others perceive him. The best I can do is help him to succeed, and prepare him for the world.