Neurodiversiphiles

We are all on a spectrum.  There are no disorders.  

Though the title for the DSM or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders would have us all believe otherwise, but we know better. As the great satirist Mark Twain allegedly quipped:

“There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics.”

But never mind which old white guy said it, it's remains as relevant as ever. Statistics, as I learned about this summer, is a BIG part of what machine learning relies upon, i.e. Artificial Intelligence.  This creates all kinds of inequity in our society, or rather amplifies and reflects back to us many of our collective biases, like some sort of carnival fun mirror, but maybe not so fun.

A recent article in Rolling Stone published a "Truth in Tech" article by Lorena O'Neil: 

These Women Tried to Warn Us About AI

Like The Social Dillemma, this article is media worth consuming. 

It invites us to think about what it means to be human in a world in which we increasingly relate as symbionts with AI.  How shall we classify this symbiosis - mutualism, commensalism, parasitism?  It remains to be seen. 

As with all questions, the answer will depend on how you define your assumptions.  Expanding our view to encompass the Gaia hypothesis first promulgated by James Lovelace, many have argued that humans are a parasite upon the planet.  And maybe we are.  Can AI be leveraged to give us a definitive answer to this question?  The caveats go to the creators, and the creators use our content, so in some respects: we are the Creator. AI can only be as good as the data it is trained on. 

All living things have two jobs that we must accomplish in order to play a role in our ecosystem and its sustenance/evolution through time: (1) we must eat/be eaten and (2) we must reproduce.  In nature, everything exists in a delicate balance.  Our urge to seek novelty and convenience has caused our consumerism to outpace the rate at which our waste can be assimilated back into the natural cycle. Have we accelerated entropy?

There is disorder - chaos, entropy - and no judgement implied therein.  We are, but we are out of balance.  

Lately, on the news, I've been hearing a lot about the shortage of mental health care.  Perhaps all the hubbub is because of Biden recently endorsed plan to expand mental health care. 

The DSM has been collating all of our so-called mental "disorders"... perhaps now with AI, we can leverage these data to recognize that it is largely not the individual people who have been labeled with a disorder that need to be "fixed" rather there are drastic systemic changes that need to be identified and addressed.  

Which is to say: bringing more mental health care providers on board is only part of a much broader solution.  Survival will require a giant cultural mindshift that puts the human spirit as the central metric of what is healthy - both for us as individuals and for the life support system that is our planet.  

We are a part of nature, though we often put ourselves apart, separate.  Increasingly, evidence is showing just how much we need trees and plants.  Let's not re-state the obvious benefits photosynthesis provides to our atmosphere and its role in the water cycle.  

Researchers have known for more than a decade that microbes in soil work in similar ways to antidepressants. No wonder gardening is so therapeutic.  

Less researched are the health benefits of grounding, but I can personally attest to how much more at peace I feel after a good forest bath. You don't have to take my word for it! 

The World Economic Forum reports that Japanese forest bathing is scientifically proven to improve your health. 

Or better yet, go try it out for yourself.  

Or you could just sit here glued to your device, taking tests to classify yourself within the vast probability field that psychologists have only partly mapped out in the DSM.  

Being human is bigger than statistics, and still statistics matter.  As an educator, the greatest advice offered comes from the Oracle of Delphi and inscribed on the Temple of Apollo, "Gnothi seauton", which translates as "Know thyself" 

If you've read this far, but find it's a bad time for you to head to the forest, why not get to know yourself a little better.  You grow like a tree.  Make sure you offer yourself non-judgement, just as you would a tree.

Aspie Quiz

My results:

Ritvo Autism Asperger Diagnostic Scale–Revised (RAADS–R)

My score: 100

Autism Spectrum Quotient

My score: 29

Adult ADHD Self-Report Scale for DSM-5 (ASRS-5)

My score: 16

Adult ADHD Self-Report Scale (ASRS v1.1)

My score: 14 (Part 1: 6; Part 2: 8)

ACES scores are a whole 'nother cosmic sack of worms to explore that deserves a trigger warning (and probably at least one whole blog post).

Somatic processing - like EMDR - is just one way that science is exploring how the body, as an integrated whole, is essential to healing the wounds left by Trauma.  There is a reason people who run, walk, hike, or regularly do yoga are more mentally and emotionally fit than lazy bums like me.  (I really need to start building my miles up again).

If you want to know you ACES score, take the ACES quiz.

Do you want to know mine? It's an 8.

Be kind y'all, you never know what folks are carrying with them. 

The childlike quality of speaking truth to power

 The only way to achieve equality in relationships is to speak your truth and listen to others in equal measure. 

"Girls are too good"

Today I watched in awe at the power of your keen ear.  While jamming to your playlist, you correctly identified its origin, from your favorite movie, Wolfwalkers.  I equivocated, uncertain, not quite in agreement, and consulted Spotify.  The name didn't make any sense.  "This is Intolerable" by Bruno Calais.  You knew it immediately, after the first few foreboding measures. 

It had a compelling piano melody, so compelling that it drew your energy away from the dulling work of penciling in your RRJ. 

Before I knew what was happening, you were seated at the piano, your hands immediately going to the notes you were hearing, but in harmony.  Without even having to search for it, you knew right where to place your hands to produce those complementary notes. 

Awesome listening. Powerful attunement.  Right on task, even if you weren't doing your school work, you were learning the only way that learning can be sustained, through following your bliss. 

Later, we were talking about why you didn't like doing homework.  (Duh, mom, because it's so boring).  Anyway, to introduce some levity, I told you about my students and pulled a face to illustrate how they're always on the verge of dozing off in my classes.  I had attempted to enlist your assistance to find a way to make homework - to make learning - fun, as it should be. As a teacher, this is definitely a skill I want to develop. And you are my most precious student. 

You proposed having a reward for every homework assignment you finish: a piece of toast with jam & butter, a piece of candy, some time to play with your friends, some time to watch your shows - the things you most value.  But, I had to ask, does making a reward for yourself make the doing of the homework more fun. 

"Yeah, sorta," you replied. "It helps motivate me."

So I re-iterated the invitation - let's see if we could make annotating the text of your Studies Weekly fun! Annotating, I explained, is a skill I teach my college students.  You rolled your eyes when you heard this.  I told you, "it's very simple, but very few people know how to do it right."  I was eager to do it with you, to learn some California history. Having grown up in Texas, I had learned close to nothing about California history.  

When I pulled the face, you got in on the act, describing how my students would actually be logged on to Zoom while playing a video game and listening to the news.  So, in other words, completely distracted. "How would I know?" I asked. "They're all just black boxes. Besides," I added, "the students I was talking about were in my in-person class" -  the first I'd had in two years. 

"Still," you elaborated on how you could just see them completely zoned out on her game. And then you corrected yourself. "Actually," you said, "I can't really see a girl doing that, only boys."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, girls are too good."

And you are correct, we are.  

So after a levity break, and a reminder of our own self-worth, we put our noses to the newspaper. We read about Rancho Petaluma and the Californios. We read about modern-day uses for gold. Did you know it's used to treat rheumatoid arthritis?  Google knows.  We asked because we were curious. And then you told me, as we sat gorging on the steady stream of easily accessible information, "Google is a know-it-all."

Yes, yes she is. Aren't we having fun already!

The annotation had its own series of distractions and diversions. It took us nearly an hour to read and annotate three articles, but we visited so many topics along the way, including making a mental note to plan a trip to see some of these historical places, to take pride in what we know about the places we are from, however far removed. I watched as you grinned greedily at the thought of the riches in your gold teeth and computers. We cuddled and talked about pre-pubescent changes underway. You sniffed my ear and told me it smelled bad.  When I objected to this, you invited me to smell your ear. "It smells like strawberries," you said after sticking your pinky finger in your ear and giving it a sniff.  We talked about all the annotations we were making and how it gets done at school and how you don't really remember since it's been so long since you were in class for that lesson, your thrice weekly pull-out Word Wizards classes always requiring you to miss, thereby saddling with homework double-time - not just the most basic, intellect-dulling worksheet imaginable, but also the in-class work that you missed the chance to do with your class, where you might benefit from the full social dimension of learning. 

I find myself suspicious of all these "interventions"  and how much they actually support your learning, which is to say, I don't support them at all. Uncharitably, I wonder if your third grade teacher simply finds you a handful and has figured out a way to send you away at the most convenient times to help the other students focus.  All children are exceptional in their parents' eyes.  Mine, doubly so to me. 

Recently, your best friend's mother asked me if I'd ever heard of twice exceptional children, suggested I might have been one.  I think she might have obliquely been suggesting that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. 

On Friday, I received an email from your Word Wizards teacher, deeply offended by its town.  I reached out to two people for support. One of them urged me to have the school perform an IEP assessment, suspicious of signs that suggest ADHD.  The other reminded me what a good job I'm doing as your mother.  Both were valuable perspectives, upon which I continue to ruminate? What does it mean to be a good mother?  Among my highest priorities is to teach you to love yourself completely.  To love yourself means to know yourself and that journey will become more and more your own.  How much trust do I put in modern medicine to name a "malady" that is more likely just societal malaise?  How much can I shift the society even as it shapes our growth?  So much in our world is broken, but not so broken to be beyond repair. 

I had to learn to navigate my own way, and it's been a long row to hoe, but am I better now for all the struggle I endured to avoid a diagnosis, to spend years self-medicating, and beating myself up for never quite living up to my potential?  Your mileage may vary.

You are a Ridgway, your mother's daughter, a force of nature, an artist, and a doer.  

Perhaps it's time to learn how good we really are.

Weekly wisdom

Thanks to some transformative experiences with WisdomKeepers this winter, I have some new insights to strive to embody as I learn to deepen my trust and the care I show to myself and others.  

Thank you Rachel Natland and Chris Morasky for sharing your gifts so generously on this journey.

Wisdom kernel #1:  Don't let your past oppress your present.

Wisdom kernel #2: Through our lives, we are sometimes invited to reflect on what makes one 'successful'.  Everyone gets to decide their own answer to this question, whether that's happiness, health, family, friends, or something even more intangible.  For me, I'm going to go with this: A good life (for me) is one in which I  make a few quality commitments (to myself) and keep them. 

Let's keep growing.

Time to celebrate!

Parched by the universe puzzles

Thank goodness we don't have it all figured out! How boring life would be with no puzzles to solve.

And so I find myself this happy Monday, buried in grading and unable to stop thinking about the fundamentals of physics - both at particulate and astronomical scales.

We know the universe is expanding. And that it is doing so at an accelerating rate. But what is it expanding into?

We know that gravity, the attractive force between massive objects ought to counter that expansion, sooner or later, but it seems there is some other force at work here. Some kind of "dark energy" that provides a repulsive force, propelling the universe ever outward into... what?

I am reminded of the theoretical model of the tides. In this model, the Earth and its watery envelope bulges on the side nearest to the moon due to gravitational attraction. On the other side, the Earth and the oceans bulge, but for a different reason - rotational inertia, which is sometimes described as centrifugal force. Could it be that the universe has such a spin that propels it ever outward?

Others have questioned along these lines. The apparent answer does not satisfy: if we measure from different points, we should see different things based on if the universe is spinning or not or how much. This is where my ignorance of the subject becomes a liability and eggs me on to learn more.

But for now, another question: is it possible that the scale of our vantage points just isn't big enough to resolve the spin, its direction or momentum?

As for what it is expanding into, I am reminded of ripples. A minor disturbance to the surface of a calm pool of water causes the energy to propagate outward, endlessly - well, at least to the edges of the pond. Why?

Why does the energy seem to flee the center, the place of the original disturbance?

This reminds me of a conversation I recently had with a student. He envisioned this outward expansion as being limited by a tenuous connection between all particles. When everything had unraveled so completely as to only be attached in a linear way, only then would the universe begin to collapse back in on itself. An interesting notion, one worth exploring.

His description led me to envision a spherical or perhaps even toroidal universe. If the ripple model applies to an expanding universe, toroidal is the way to go. But still the question remains: what does it expand into, in an apparently edgeless, infinite 'verse?

It staggers. And leaves me with an unquenchable thirst.

Another puzzle: the double-slit experiment. I need to better understand this test - the ways its been performed, the hypotheses tested, the conclusions. I feel like I'm missing something about the resultant interference pattern.

Something tells me it has to do with energy levels.

When you blow into a penny whistle, it emits a particular pitch determined by the length of the whistle. BUT, if you blow a little harder, it emits at a much higher pitch. It is possible, if you blow just the right amount of air, that it will emit both pitches at the same time. What does this have to do with wave-particle duality? I'm not sure, but I want the math to explore it more.

So for the first time, in I don't know how many years, I am setting a New Year's Resolution. I will start here, with Tibee's playlist. From there, who knows. But there must be a way to sate this thirst.

Onward! Outward! upward! Through! Ganapati Om Jaya

The Tendency to Minimize

It has been a wisdom-colored week. Wisdom dispensed, but not not infused.

Not yet living wisdom. Expressible, yes. But radiated? Not quite. Not from me at least.

My hard head apparently has a few more knots to untie. And I will admit, wisdom merely painted on the outside rings hollow, trite. So I'll keep it to myself for now. Let it ferment until it makes a quality libation.

Here's a piece of what's fermenting.

I received an odd piece of feedback this week that got me thinking about the ways I communicate. Often the words that come out of my mouth are admittedly not always well-planned.

Mini-me shows me often how pedantic I must sound to the world, as she lectures me on the particulars of some subject.

"Dear god!" I think, "what kind of person am I? Do I really come off as such a know-it-all? Or is that her father's influence?"

It is kind of a loathsome quality. One that I have been working to remedy since I first heard my voice in my child's. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter. And my husband. And myself.

But nobody likes a know-it-all.

First, let me ask you, how often do you preface a statement with the word "just"?

As in "only." Almost as though you were trying to excuse some behavior or circumstance. To defend it as harmless. To minimize.

About four years ago, I was visiting a friend when it was first brought to my attention that this is something I sometimes do.

Overcome with her  kindness, I offered a compliment: "You are just beautiful."

Her friend corrected me: "How about just saying 'You are beautiful'"?

I was offended. Not to have been corrected, but that I could have been so insensitive. Why had I just offered a compliment that in essence minimized her beauty? I was hurt on behalf of my friend for my thoughtless and unkind words. It was truly a back-handed compliment.

I was duly reprimanded. And I hope I had the good grace to at least apologize for the mistake. More likely, I retreated in embarrassment.

And did you notice how the feedback was delivered? With the word just? As if to minimize the sting of being corrected. Or was it to minimize...? The woman who corrected me could have given me her helpful feedback without including the word "just"

This brings us back to the odd piece of feedback I received this week. I was attempting to communicate with my husband about our daughter's behavior to offer a perspective that might help address some of the parenting challenges we've faced recently. "She's just trying to make sense of her world," I said.

Now, the written word is a terrible medium for conveying tone.  I would have described my tone as  matter-of-fact. But in fact, the way it was received was as a reprimand. As if I was pointing out something that should have been obvious - just by including the word "just"

It was a good piece of feedback, but it kind of stopped me in my tracks.

It got me thinking.

Why do we try to minimize things? Why not simply describe them as they are? Without judgement. (I will admit, I was tempted just now to use the word "just" in place of "simply" - when I probably could have left adverbs out altogether).

Without judgement. Wait. That doesn't ring true. As someone who frequently suffers from foot-in-mouth syndrome, I know all too well the damage that can be done by speaking without judgement.

Am I suggesting speaking without adverbs? No, that's just silly. Where would our purple prose be without adverbs.

I have a hypothesis that women use "just" as an adverb more frequently than men. Anybody have any statistics on that?

Why would they? Because women are socialized to be more accommodating, to minimize, to excuse. And how does that make us come off when we communicate that way- whether women or men?

People don't want excuses.

And truth is they don't want to be excused either.

When people behave badly, they appreciate being kindly called out for it. For having a boundary clearly defined.

I see it with my five-year old all the time. She protests. She negotiates. She wheedles and whines. But when I calmly give her a limit and explain its rationale she calmly accepts it. She appreciates having that boundary there. It creates a sense of safety and security.

It's the same with my students. That's why we set class norms at the beginning of the semester and revisit them when needed. It gives us clearly defined limits of expected behavior and helps foster a safe space where learning can happen.

But you don't want boundaries to be too restrictive. They can't be arbitrary or capricious.

There has to be a good reason for having a limit in place.

Maybe that's why "just" gets us in trouble - because it constricts necessarily, shrinks the space of possibility.

So I'm just going to have to be better.

Ahem,

I'm going to have to be better about communicating clearly.

That we may push the boundaries of what is known, and what can be known, in a way that is bounded with mutual respect and understanding of our full capacities as rationale human beings.