How NOT to Relate to Your Introverted Kid
Something is wrong when a parent bemoans her daughter’s curious personality and avid interests.
When I survey the flurry of recently published books and articles about the spectrum of personality, I sometimes feel happy about the cultural spread of the message that introverts are normal. But then I come across a letter in an advice column that’s almost criminally clueless, and I wonder if much progress has been made at all. The letter’s headline, probably written by Slate editors, ran: “I Want My Daughter to Have a Childhood Like Mine. But the Problem Is Her Personality.” The letter from a parent contained no less than six erroneous beliefs, adding up to a whoppingly bad home environment for the introverted child involved.
The letter started off:
“Growing up, I had tons of friends and was always on the go and immersed in extracurricular activities. My 7-year-old daughter, “Maisy,” simply isn’t interested in people. She has exactly three friends and would rather spend her time reading and studying the birds, squirrels, bugs, and plants in our backyard.”
From just this much (and the letter got worse), you can already see that the letter-writer was viewing herself as the reference point for what it is to have a happy childhood. Mistake! People are different – including even our own kids. Respect dictates that we acknowledge that there is not just one legitimate or one preferred way to exist. If you’re a football fan who loves socializing in crowded bars, you might have a kid who loves medieval music and online chess, or vice versa. That’s life, and a decent parent needs to accept that.
Second, the parent complained that her daughter had “exactly” - that is, only - three friends. Why was that a problem? In the eyes of the parent, the daughter wasn’t sufficiently oriented toward other people, evidenced by her paltry number of friends. As I wrote in another post, there isn’t any credible standard for psychological health of too few friends. A child with only one friend can flourish just as much as one with fifteen. Even a child with no friends can grow up fine. Jill Ker Conway, for example, author of The Road from Coorain and other books, was raised on an Australian sheep farm so remote that she never even saw another girl child until she was seven. Nevertheless, she had the wherewithal to reach the post of President of Smith College, where I had the opportunity to experience her graciousness first hand.
Third, the parent felt the daughter was interested in weird things that have no value. “She doesn’t have much use for cartoons, like other kids; she would sooner watch science and nature documentaries.” Kudos to this girl for knowing what she liked and ignoring implicit or explicit pressure to conform to the parent’s picture of how she should spend her time! The idea that a seven-year-old ought to be watching cartoons rather than pursuing her curiosity about the natural world is quite bizarre and narrow-minded.
Fourth, the parent bemoaned in general terms what the girl was missing: “She’s missing out on so much by not being more sociable.” Logically, anyone will be missing out on something. The nature lover might be missing out on team sports. Miss Popularity might be missing out on the experience of being contentedly alone with one’s own interests. Although the letter writer believed the girl’s personality was bound to make her maladjusted and strange, that’s a baseless belief. A prejudice.
Fifth, the parent said her daughter “has no idea how to interact with other humans,” but this was blatantly untrue, since the girl had three friends.
And sixth, the parent signed herself off at the end of the letter with “Emotional Intelligence Matters Too.” This implied that someone like the daughter who spends a lot of time alone observing nature necessarily lacks emotional intelligence. That’s another baseless belief. Emotional intelligence consists in being able to detect and appreciate one’s own and others’ feelings. Who knows – the girl’s close observation of bugs and squirrels might even lay a solid foundation for awareness of the quirks of the people around her. Keep in mind that some introverts have sky-high emotional intelligence. Think of the therapist who listens attentively, saying little in response except a few comments that are insightful, compassionate and extremely on target.
Perhaps if the child had been a boy, the parent might have expressed the fear that, given his favorite activities, he was on track to becoming a school shooter. That stereotype was thankfully absent from the Slate letter. Still, we can be grateful that Slate’s advice columnist did a very good job calling out the letter writer’s prejudices and preconceptions in her reply, ending with this zinging suggestion:
“Do not discourage her from doing the things that bring her pleasure, that mean the most to her. Do what you can, instead, to encourage and support her in these pursuits. Here’s a bonus: If you do this, you’ll be modeling real emotional intelligence for her, since one of its basic principles is understanding how other people feel, rather than assuming everyone is just like you.”
Hopefully the letter writer’s daughter had the ability to tune out her parent’s negative messages and continue pursuing the curiosity and special interests that move her. She was just seven, not too late for the disparager to relax the pressure and base the parent-child relationship on true caring and acceptance.