Shame

Gifted individuals are prone to having very high sensitivity levels.  Being both a gifted and a learning disabled individual does not allow me to pick and choose what characteristics I would like to have, and heightened sensitivity has been an issue all  my life.  I hate it when I cry at work. I feel shame that things bother me so much that I cannot help but to cry.  In the business world we hear, “it’s not personal, it’s business.” For me, everything feels very personal. There is no separation between my performance and myself. There are many times where I feel responsible for what the U.S. government does just because I’m an American.

Shame is a core feeling that can practically paralyze an individual.  Michael Lewis says that he considers shame to be so powerful because it’s about the perception of having a, “defective self.. rotten and no good.” This strikes close to home in many ways with me. I think it ties in closely with perfectionism as well.

Stephen King relayed a story about himself in school where he was told , “What I don’t understand, Stevie,” [my high school teacher] said, “is why you’d write junk like this… You’re talented. Why do you want to waste your abilities?”… I was ashamed.”

He goes on to say, “I have spent a good many years since — too many, I think — being ashamed about what I write. I think I was forty before I realized that almost every writer of fiction and poetry who has ever published a line has been accused of wasting his or her God-given talent. If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that’s all.”

The logic of perfectionism doesn’t always flow, just as the logic of shame doesn’t always flow, but it’s not a simple matter.  Gifted people do not escape criticism in the least, but it seems to me that students with LDs are in the cross hairs at all times; socially as well as academically often being targeted as inferior.  If you ever wonder why people who are both gifted and learning disabled are so difficult to recognize or find, consider what we may have gone through.

Mary Rocamora, a veteran counselor of gifted and talented spoke of shame having a, “crippling effect on the development of the gifted and talented. It is the belief that we are fundamentally flawed or bad, and any attempt to draw attention to ourselves could result in being exposed and shamed. It can prevent us from making any creative effort at all or at the least make us pay by keeping us in emotional pain.

“Shame can be a contributing factor to the ‘impostor syndrome.’ The fear of being exposed as a fraud feeds a chronic internal tension about showing creative products to others. Freedom to risk is thereby impaired. There is a pervasive feeling that even if something we’ve done is well received, it was a fluke, and that the other shoe is sure to fall next time.”

Rocamora finds that this feeling “keeps a lid on our level of achievement in life by maintaining an internal climate of fear of recognition. Being creative in anonymity or as a hobby is safer than being known or praised for our work. The objective assessment of the true merit of our abilities can be very difficult. Looking to others for the objective feedback we don’t have means having to bear the expectation of being shamed.

“Being trapped in this kind of catch-22 is the means by which the pattern of shame preserves itself. The pattern of shame typically posits perfectionism as its ‘resolution.’ That is, if we could be perfect, we could escape the feeling of shame and inherent badness.”

She points out that shame-driven perfectionism “can often be confused with the innate tendency of most gifted people to be perfectionistic. When shame is the motivator, people are afraid to share their creative endeavors with others unless and until they are ‘perfect.’ (And nothing perfect could ever be created by someone who is fundamentally flawed!)

“Innate perfectionism feels different — it is an internal desire to hold our work to a very high standard, one we set for ourselves. Both can delay closure on projects, but shame perpetuates a chronic sense of insecurity, low self-esteem and anxiety.”

That’s probably pushing the envelope of how much I should just quote, but I think she did a great job of tieing shame with perfectionism. Mary Rocamora is currently the Director of The Rocamora School, Los Angeles. She has a pretty interesting biography page if you want to read more about her.

I know I did not fit in academically or socially in many ways. I had a number of talents, but I also know I pushed teachers to their limits and beyond. Usually it wasn’t on purpose, but I will admit that there were times where I felt relationships with teachers were rather adversarial in nature. My 5^th grade teacher in particular I had a very rough time with. She and I did not start off well I don’t think we never saw eye-to-eye.

Part of the issue was my “stubbornness” that I can see now as being strong in moral character in ways. The path of least resistance to me has always meant very little outside of physics. Social injustices need a champion and I’m willing to step right in and do everything I can to right the wrongs. Unfortunately, as we grow and mature, the effects of shame often increase. We do feel as if we are defective. It can be very powerful to feel as if you not only don’t belong, but that you are broken.

Being learning disabled, I have felt very broken. Working around my deficits has only made me feel as if I’m cheating in order to succeed, which goes against the strong sense of morality. I have to be less than who I want to be in order to be half as good as I possibly can. It made me worry more that in order to be more of what I could be, I would have to abandon my morals all together. How far are you willing to compromise your integrity in order to succeed? And if you made that compromise, how much shame would you feel? If you are gifted, that feeling is probably magnified. I know it is for me.

So what are some options to give people who are gifted and have a learning disability success? I think the first thing to do is recognize who this incredible population is. Remember that they may not want to be noticed. Masking deficits through humor or any means necessary is common practice. Acknowledging them as being exceptional is often very hard for a person to hear who has felt broken all their life. There’s an amazing scene in “Good Will Hunting” where the psychologist, Sean, played by Robin Williams, tells Will (gifted young adult), played by Matt Damon, that it’s not his fault. I found a YouTube clip if you aren’t familiar with the movie; you don’t have to follow along with the subtitles. The scene is more about revealing Will’s physically abused past, but I think many of us who are G/LD are abused in a different way. I remember wishing I would just be hit at times instead.

Understanding and acceptance are primal needs, and meeting these needs only superficially is not good enough. Understanding a gifted individual is not easy for a person who is not gifted themselves. Acceptance can be challenging at times, but does not require the deep embodiment that understanding may, but acceptance needs to still be felt at the core. The shame internalized is hard to break through.

Consider that if an individual doesn’t care about something, feelings are removed. So if we’re talking about people who feel so intensely, they most likely cannot stop caring.

I know I have gone to extremes in my caring. I have tried to not care at all at times just so I could function “normally” but it’s not a good option.

I seem to be on many tangents today (still tied to shame, but not seeming to be in a solid order) but I’ll keep spewing stuff out for now.  I ran across a couple “Gifted kids’ Bill of Rights” and wanted to share an item I really liked, “I have the right to be my age. If I’m a smart 7-year-old, I’m a smart 7-year-old, not a short 30-year-old.” The drive to be perfect encompasses areas we may not even be gifted in, but it does not remove the feeling.

Tamera Fisher wrote in her blog on a Gifted Bill of Rights, “Gifted children are so passionate about their talents and interest areas! They eat, breathe, drink, dream, and live what they love. Yet those around them (parents, age-peers, teachers) don’t always understand how a child can want to spend a sunny day indoors reading about bacterial conjugation, or why it matters what the difference is between mauve and lavender. But to a gifted child who holds those passions, it is a big deal. Mom & Dad and Teacher don’t have to share an interest in the topic. They just need to be understanding of the fact that the child loves it so much. Telling them they’re “too into it” or “only keen on weird topics” or “too excited about that new book” only succeeds in shutting them down. Our world doesn’t need to be shutting these kids down. Because our world has a place for people who get excited about bacterial conjugation or the minute differences between colors. We need them. Let them be.”

I think children (and adults) who are told these things feel shame. Just another reason they are not normal, feel broken or defective. To be accepted for who you are as a gifted person is rough (as far as I can tell), as gifted person with learning disabilities is probably tougher. I have often wondered if I were not LD, would I have felt the same amount of shame? I guess it’s like asking, “if I lived in another place, would I have lived a very different life?” It’s rhetorical anyway.

I think I need to start figuring out a way to write less lengthy posts. Break things into smaller chunks at least. I didn’t realize I was writing such a long post.  I’ll wrap up with another quote, since I’ve used so many already.

“Ignorance is bliss. Being smart has allowed me the ability to watch the world. This isn’t a horrible situation. My regret arises whenever I want to experience the world without watching, to have flares of emotion without questioning ‘why’ or ‘how,’ to experience life to the ‘fullest’ without asking why the rain makes people sad or happy.” Zim, 12th grade