Entelechy and Specialization

As I have presented, I have noticed that I need more of it. I have a lot of improvement to make still to turn more of the focus into the topic rather than the stories focusing on me. It’s more important to understand that students and adults who are both gifted and learning disabled are often not being helped due to either a lack of being recognized or lack of understanding what help means. This needs to happen more, and I can be involved in a bigger way.

I watched an amazing video by Richard Lavoie where he spoke about the needs of a learning disabled student needing a real educator and not some retired grandmother who just read to him. I think far too often when we consider a person who is both gifted and LD, it’s the LD side we focus on.  What makes it more problematic is that one of the common ways schools teach special education is through repetition. The issue with a 2E person is that repetition isn’t a good solution. More likely, it’s a perception problem where a paradigm shift is more of what’s needed. But that’s still focusing on the LD side.

The Gallop Organization has published countless reports about how we should be working with our strengths rather than our weaknesses. It’s fascinating stuff and if you are not familiar with Don Clifton’s work, you should look it up. The premise is that our strengths are not only what we currently have going for us, but we have a much higher ceiling to elevate within.  Not only that, but when we look at how our civilization has developed recently, we have become more and more specialized. We don’t worry about how well our doctor can balance her checkbook as long as they know what they are doing when it comes to our health. Heck, we see very few general practitioners in medicine now. Doctors are more specialized and patients are referred to the specialist who can help. That’s getting pretty specialized. It’s not just within medicine either though. We see it in many areas and professions.

When I present I feel that it’s right.  It’s not me up in front that makes me feel centered; it’s the information being delivered that makes me feel better. There are others who have powerful stories and countless doctors with much more impressive letters behind their name, but I have something they must not have. I have entelechy on my side. We all need to find the thing that makes us happy and fulfilled.  Entelechy is that and more.

I used to work with summer camps and outdoor organizations a lot. One woman summed up why she did what she did because it felt right. She felt as if she fit into the world now. She even held her hands together, pulled them toward herself in downward sweeping motion and used the word, “ka-chunk” to express the fit.

Being an advocate and spokesperson for G/LD feels right to me. It could also fulfill my need to fight for a cause, educate, inspire and make a difference in the world. I do seem to have many needs, but for me, a quiet existence doesn’t seem to fit. I need to tread a little heavier, sing a little more often and make a serious impact in a positive way.

I try to think, but nuthin’ happens

… This is the feeling I have at times when I have infrequent time to work on things like this blog. I have an open afternoon right now with a couple hours to type and I have a hundred ideas, but can’t seem to go forward.

I have often said the reason I keep so many irons in the fire is because I never know when ones going to be hot.  This is EXACTLY where I feel I am today. If I had more irons in the fire, I’d have something that was hot.

There are numerous issues I want to write about on this blog.

One is Entelechy, the feeling you are to be a certain something. Jean Houston once wrote, “Entelechy is all about the possibilities encoded in each of us. For example it is the entelechy of an acorn to be an oak tree, of a baby to be a grown-up, of a popcorn kernel to be a fully popped entity, and of you and me to be God only knows what.”  Entelechy is a pretty powerful in gifted individuals and it’s combined with moral sensitivity makes many gifted individuals feel they are to be doing something.  …I’ve got to work on it a lot more, but it’s one.

Another is on invisibility.  It’s a mix of items I may separate if/when I organize it in my head more or smash all together in one mish-mash long blog post. It entails the term “gifted” having negative connotations including elitism, and also involves how many people feel they grow out of being gifted because it’s perceived as an academic thing. Another item in this slurry is how women are more rarely identified as gifted due to the social pressure to fit in.

Another is on the hyper-critical self.  It’s closely related to perfectionism to me in some aspects, but has more to do with outside influences. The emotional turmoil that knowing you’re not doing things as well as you feel they should be done is vicious.  Most people can accept criticism more easily than me. It’s not uncommon for gifted individuals to take criticism poorly, and I’ve worked on understanding ways of accepting it more, but it’s still a challenge.  It’s also still hard to see in my mind what I want it to look like, but not have the ability to make it.  Art is one of those areas.  I’ll work more on that topic soon as well I hope.

Well that’s 3 of the topics I have in my head …that unfortunately I can’t shake out right now. I’ll probably add a few more irons in that fire along the way, but what I really hope is to have time to work on them when one of them is hot.

Perfectionism…

Why are so many of us perfectionists? I was asked why I was a perfectionist and I really had to think about it. It’s certainly not that I fear making a mistake. I do that ALL of the time. I feel I am a perfectionist because I know that I can perform and produce in the top level in many areas. I used to feel that because I can, I should. I owe it to myself and everyone else. I feel there are not a lot of people who can produce at the 99.9% level, so if I can, I should. It would take me maybe 4x longer to produce at the 99.9% level than at the 90%, but it was what I should do.

Recently I have had a harder time within this idealistic placement in my life. I know I don’t have all the time to do everything that I’m good at up to this standard, but it’s hard to let go.

I was recently asked about my house. My house is far from perfect. A while back, by wife and I worked on building plans for a house. We planned a lot of the place and worked hard on getting everything just right. It was not near the 99% level, but that was about 10 years ago. Our family has grown, or needs have changed, and that 99% level home currently would only be about a 70% for us. It’s a good thing we didn’t build that house! We are living in a house that was not perfect for us when we moved into it about 5 years ago. We have done work on it, but we have not made it larger even though we have more kids now. We would like a larger house certainly and it may be in the cards to move to a bigger place soon, but it’s not a HUGE priority. Our current house fits us (all be it snugly). It’s safe, warm and secure. The family is not damaged by having a house that I’d say is at about 60% for us. It was never over about a 75%, but with more kids, indoor space would be nice.

Not only that, but I have a hard time figuring out what a home that’s at 99.9% would be like. I love having a large lawn, but hate mowing. How would I be able to have my cake and eat it too? Would I have to hire lawn care? What about cooking and cleaning? For me, this 99.9% is pretty elusive even if our needs weren’t changing all of the time, but they are. I think perfection in many things is very similar. I wrote a story in college that I recently reread. It was good, but only about a 95%. It was creative and well written, but the subject did not resonate with me in my 40s as it did when I was 20~ish. So the work to go from the 90% to 99% is not worthless, but there is a diminishing return. Going from 99% to 99.9% is the same, but the diminishing return is even greater.

This has helped me to be satisfied with not creating something that is perfect. It’s a challenge still, but I think it’s worth the added time I get to be with my family and do other things. My wife and kids think my 90% is pretty darn close to perfect for them. I can live with that. 🙂

Learned Helplessness and LD perception …and The Lemon Story

Perception differences with individuals who have LDs have been noted before, and the treatment of students/individuals who are undiagnosed (and sometimes diagnosed) is one of notability. When the LD person perceives a situation differently than others, and acts according to that perception, there are often negative repercussions.

As a person who has ALWAYS perceived things differently, I see the direct connection to learned helplessness. The stimulus I perceived did not always match the response I elicited. If I studied and got a B, or didn’t study and got a B, what did it matter if I studied or not? To me, there was no correlation between studying and getting good grades. The things I did that got me into trouble were also similar to this situation. I have already been asked to “tell about the lemon.”

You should probably understand that when I did more presentations, I would occasionally tell about a time when I got into trouble even though I was acting very honestly, ethically, and responsibly. I wasn’t always honest, ethical and responsible, but it does spotlight a problem that does occur. It’s a real story that I still have imprinted vividly in my mind.

My grandparents lived in Florida and had fruit trees. They had sent a box full of grapefruits, tangerines, and a HUMONGOUS lemon (larger than a normal grapefruit). I was in 5th grade (where many notable events happened) and I couldn’t wait to have show-and-tell. I had planned to talk about how it’s warm in Florida and citrus trees have a longer growing season and more sun …anyway, I was antsy all morning.

I stood up holding this huge lemon, but not being a noted orator and being in 5th grade in front of everyone I stumbled my words a bit, “This (pointing to the lemon) is a …um, lemon, and my …uh, grandparents sent it from…”

“Tom,” my teacher, Mrs. Clean, interjected, “it’s a grapefruit. You said lemon.”

“No, it’s a lemon. My …uh grandparents live in Florida, where it’s hot, and …”

“Tom, it’s not a lemon.” My teacher went on, “It’s a grapefruit. I can see it’s a grapefruit, so what did you want to say about it?”

“It’s a LEMON, and I wanted to say that my grandparents…”

“Tom, stop saying it’s a lemon, and just tell us why you brought in this grapefruit.”

“It’s a LEMON, and I …”

“Tom, do you need to go to the principal’s office?”

“No, I want to talk about my LEMON! LEMON! …LEMON!” Said while facing the teacher and letter her know she was interrupting a key point in MY show-and-tell.

“Let’s go Tom. To the principal’s office.”

I was an emotional child, and I was pretty riled up by now, and I am sure there were tears as my emotional roller coaster went screaming down the tracks as we went to see the principal. I explained to him that it was a lemon, but he was a good principal and wanted to back his teacher first I’m sure, but did say, “Well, we’ll call your Mom or Dad and see if we can find out if this is actually a lemon.” This seemed to satisfy both of us.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get either of my parents on the phone, so after calming down a while in Mr. Smey’s office, the principal and I returned to the classroom, lemon in hand. Mr. Smey let my teacher know that we were unable to contact my parents, but I could try again later.

I tried to sit at my desk, but I had this lemon in hand, and couldn’t wait to prove that I was not lying. I asked to return to Mr. Smey’s office and try again. After trying my parents again to no avail I returned to the classroom.

“Are you ready to talk about your grapefruit?” Maybe I recall the emphasis a little more exaggerated than it really happened, but there was something there for sure.

“You mean lemon?” I said (maybe said a little mockingly).

“To the principal’s office. Now.”

Over lunch, Mrs. Clean asked if we could cut open the “grapefruit” to prove it, but since it was my family’s I didn’t feel it was right. I’m sure this made Mrs. Clean feel more resolute in her belief it had to be a grapefruit, but it wasn’t.

I spent most of the day there, in the Principal’s Office. Each time I returned to the classroom, the teacher would ask if I would admit it was a grapefruit and I’d be sent back to see Mr. Smey. Finally, almost at the end of the day, I got a hold of my Dad, who confirmed to Mr. Smey that it was indeed a lemon. Words cannot express the thrill I had skipping back to my classroom with Mr. Smey in tow.

When we arrived, Mr. Smey pulled Mrs. Clean out into the hall with me and explained that it was actually a lemon. “Alright, Tom, we’re working on math right now, so please come in quietly and have a seat and we’ll get to your lemon in a little bit.”

I went in and sat down, holding my lemon, and looking at everyone with (I’m sure was) a goofy grin. “Tom,” said Mrs. Clean, “we’re doing our math work right now, please pull out a pencil and start working.” I pulled out a pencil, but there was NO way I could think about anything other than telling the whole class about my LEMON. “Tom, math time…” Yeah, right, math (rolls eye). I watch the clock tic. and I waited … and waited … the dismissal bell rang, and school was over. I never got to do show-and-tell with my lemon.

Let me go into more detail about Learned Helplessness. It’s not simply a matter of feeling helpless. There was a test done on on dogs a while back where they did a 3 pronged test. The basic premise was to sound a tone and then shock the dogs. Group one had a condition that stated if they jumped over a small barrier when the tone sounded, they would NOT be shocked. Group 2 was tethered to the results of a paired dog in group 1. If their paired group 1 dog was shocked, they too would be shocked. Group 1 dogs learned to jump the barrier, but group 2, did not. The 3rd group was introduced and a similar experiment was conducted, but now each dog was independent. The test was set that the tone would sound and if the dog went under a specific object, they would not be shocked. The dogs from group 1 learned quickly to move under the object. Group 3 learned as well, but group 2 heard the tone, and would just lay down and whimper as they were shocked.

The big thing to realize here is that group 2 had lost the understanding that they could change the result. This concept can be transferred to seeing how students with LDs have a different perception of things and their behaviors are not “normal” for the “conditioned response” training most students receive in school.

The Learned Helplessness isn’t necessarily about feeling helpless, it’s about the broken system of behavior to consequence. I will come back to this and discuss it more soon.

Editing optional…

Well despite saying all edits would be done on the fly or not done at all, that’s changed. Although I will not be doing it, my kind and gracious wife has volunteered to edit my misspellings and typos. Anything that’s still amiss is still totally my fault, but this may improve readability at least.

All I can say is, thank you. 🙂

Why me?

Who am I and why am I writing a blog?  Both very valid questions that are to be addressed.

My name is Tom and I’m writing this blog to:

1) let others who are G/LD, or 2E, or cross Exceptional, or whatever nomenclature you want to use, know you’re not alone .

2) educate educators and other interested parties on the importance of serving such a different population (which is currently being VERY under served in most schools).

3) keep all the stuff that I find in a place that can referenced by myself and others.

Now more about who I am:

I struggled through school. I hated school. I graduated High School without much scholastic difficulty, but I hated being AT school almost every day. I didn’t fit in with my classmates. Everyone thought I was smart but lacked motivation. I found that if I studied for a test, I’d know the material inside and out and get a B. If I didn’t study for the test, I’d sort of know the material and get a B.  …so I didn’t study.  I though homework was ridiculous because homework was to practice learning the information so you could do well on tests, but I could study as much as possible, tutor others, present to a panel of experts, write a dissertation about the topic, but still only get a B on the test.

I have always been a creative speller. If you can only spell a word one way, you’re just not thinking creatively enough. I can misspell almost any word there is out there, and over time, you may notice that a lot here. I will most likely be publishing a lot of content that could have been edited, but I don’t edit (more on that later).

In 3rd grade I was physically dragged to school. My mother really wanted me to go, and I really didn’t. I pleaded with her that I already knew how to read and since I could do that I could do everything I needed to from now on, on my own. That didn’t work. I ended up at school anyway.

I had countless run-ins with teachers who wouldn’t listen to my views of things. Most of them were older and wiser …older at least. They had taught before and probably actually believed they had “seen it all” before I had arrived. I worked very hard to prove them wrong by being myself at times, but socially it’s hard to stand out like a turd fly in the punch bowl.  …all “editing” you may see is actually done on the fly (no play on words intended there, but I’ll take it).

School was difficult socially more than academically, but I didn’t have issues academically until MUCH later so pretty much everything was a social issue up through most of college. I had tutored classmates in statistics, math, physics, and other classes, but would end up getting a lower grade than the students I tutored. It sucked.

Some classes were more difficult than others. English required more from me than I could usually give. I could not turn in the work I had written because it never was ready, so I would throw it out and get a ZERO rather than turning it in. I did not know that was not uncommon with gifted students. I had no idea I was gifted, or what being gifted meant. But I also didn’t know I was learning disabled, or what that meant either.

My second senior year of college, I was at my wits end. I was frustrated with school, and was ready to quit. I only had a semester left to complete, but I was to the point I was willing to throw that away too.

My mom had seen me struggle through writing reports. She had helped me write out note cards with all sorts of information; color-coded the cards and everything with me. She had seen me try to get everything planned out and then watch as I created, edited, read it and hated it, re-edited it only to hate it more, and ended up throwing it away. I would tell her I just needed to come at it with a “fresh mind.”

I didn’t tell her that the way I was writing it was to drink heavily the night before it was due, mentally regurgitate what I could onto the paper, and turn it in without reading it even once. I had a number of typos, spelling/grammatical errors, and such, but I turned it in. I don’t recommend my solution to the problem. It probably was not very close to my best work, but it was how I coped.

Anyway, my Mom had an article from Time Magazine about a young lady with AD/HD who also struggled with organization in a similar way, cutting out sentences from the note cards to rearrange, then cutting out individual words. It was a fascinating article that made me wonder if I too had AD/HD. I decided I’d ask the university counseling center more about it to find out if there was something I needed to understand about myself.  This opened up a can of worms that I had no idea was coming.

I was tested a bit, then tested a bit more, then tested yet more. I felt as if I’d taken every test that they could possibly have, but in the end I hoped it would be for the best. Losing countless hours to the testing process was not an issue since I didn’t study anyway really. Maintaining my 3.0~ish GPA wasn’t difficult as long as I showed up to my classes usually. The testing went on for about 6 weeks as I recall.  The tests included the WAIS and the WJ-R. I found that my Wechsler IQ was pretty low when compared to the Stanford-Binet, but the subtests within the Woodcock-Johnson were where things got interesting.

I was told that I very likely could be AD/HD, but that I also VERY likely had a learning disability. I had no idea how marginal my short-term memory was, nor that my long-term memory was exceptional, or how this could even be possible. I was told that I was very smart, but I think at that time I felt as if I was being told that just to ease the blow of being called “stupid.” I worried that if I accepted the label LD and received accommodations I’d have a “tainted” education, like winning a ribbon at the Special Olympics. Fortunately I found a professor in the Education Department who understood LDs very well and that’s when my education finally began. I had no idea what being Learning Disabled meant. I refused to think of myself as Gifted, because it was too big of an oxymoron in my mind, and I’d heard the term “gifted” thrown around way too often to feel there was any merit in it.

This gets rather long when I let myself just run with it, so I’ll write more on it later, when I have another hour or two free.