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Resilience While Depressed: Finding Your Strategies

Given the chaos-inducing results of the most recent presidential election in my country, we seem to be entering into another Dark Age akin to the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic – which is when (and why) I started HalfoftheTruth.org.  After months (years) of questioning whether and how to make time for adding more posts to this blog, I’ve realized that this very moment – another crisis point – is the perfect moment to once again share my thoughts in a semi-public fashion. (See the beginning of this post for an explanation of why I don’t share my name.) 

Over the past couple of years, I have piloted and carried out four iterations of a peer support for gifted adults. It’s been an exceptional experience, and there is a lot to write about this: how it came about, how it’s structured, what I’ve learned… And, I will . For now, in anticipation of meeting for our final (sixth of six) session this evening, I’m writing this post for myself in advance, to make sure I’m prepared to hold space for others. Specifically, as our check-in, I am going to ask everyone:

“What tricks or tips work for YOU when you’re feeling gloomy?

How might I answer this question?

Well, I asked it of myself this morning. I’ve been dealing with existential depression all weekend, after a particularly intense week of work and family obligations. As soon as a little bit of wriggle room came in (i.e., no place to go or be with my kids in the very next hour; no pressing assignment due that very evening), depression swooped down and over me like an oppressive cloak.*

And here, roughly, is the set of skills I intuitively found myself tapping into — though not necessarily in this particular order; I circle around them like I do with most tasks in life, back and forth. With that said, I thought it might be interesting to surface and engage with them through writing.

  1. Remind myself of Maslow’s hierarchy*. As I hover (metaphorically) over my human body on existentially-laden days, I ask myself (literally): What are my basic survival needs, again? (This is necessary given how easily I shift into Being In My Mind and Feelings.) Are these basic needs being met? The human body I’m in needs fuel; have I eaten recently? Am I too hot or cold? Is my back hurting – and if so (unfortunately, that’s very likely these days), what can I do to address this? I remind myself I don’t deserve to hurt. It’s okay to be distracted by pain and reminded to do something about it.

(The issue of suffering and how much we “deserve” it is a topic for another day, time, and post; I will make a note here to remind myself that I’d like to return to it.)

* FYI, Maslow didn’t envision his hierarchy as a pyramid – but, so it goes when others take your ideas and try to make visual sense of them.

Integrally related to Maslow’s hierarchy is the following, which I’ll call out separately simply to discuss it on its own.

2. Check in on my kids. Are my kids okay? here are my three kids? What are they up to? Do they need anything? My oldest, C., is spending the weekend with her friend from out of town. I miss her after just one day away, but/and know this kind of missing is appropriate. My kids are still in my nest – they’re my charges. One day they’ll fly away, but for now, my instincts to worry and wonder on a daily basis are perfectly fine. I can send a quick text to check in on C., which I do – she’s having a great time, “just chilling.” She drives now, so I don’t even need to worry about getting her back home!

My middle child, D., has made lunch for himself, though I head downstairs to cut up an apple for him as well – a task I don’t need to do, but enjoy doing. Cutting an apple into 8 slices – skillfully tossing away the core and seeds into the sink – is an act I’ve done so many times in my life I literally couldn’t count (though I could certainly estimate, simply by calculating how many days I’ve been alive since roughly the age of 10). I never fear a knife in my hands when cutting up an apple (my favorite of all foods, for what that’s worth). I have a method of cutting which amuses some – “That’s not how I cut apples!” – and instantly elicits youthful gratitude in my kids. I place 8 apple slices into a bowl and hand it to my son as part of his lunch, and know that something primal has just taken place.

Now my rainforest mind is recalling working in the local public library as a teenager and seeing a book coming and going across the check-out desk called Chop Wood, Carry Water: A Guide to Finding Spiritual Fulfillment in Everyday Life by Rick Fields (1984).

[Note: A book with this same initial title – albeit a different subtitle, “How to Fall In Love With the Process of Becoming Great” – was published in 2015 by Joshua Medcalf. Just a heads up if you go searching. This later book is about achieving peak performance, whereas the former was about spirituality – what does this say about where we’re at societally?]

Back to the original book, I was far too existential and depressed at the time (as a teenager) to understand how anyone could want to spend time thinking about such mundanities as wood and water (!), but I’ve since learned the essential value of re-grounding in the basics. And so I’m reminded: I have laundry to pull out of the dryer, and other items hanging up to air dry on hooks, all of which need to be put into baskets, which themselves need to be taken downstairs for later communal sorting.

Speaking of the community I live with – back to checking in on my kids: my 14-year-old son, now eating lunch, is fine. As usual on the weekend, he’s accompanied by at least one of our cats in his room while he watches instructional YouTube videos and learns from them.

My youngest, I. (12 years old), is currently playing an interactive game online with her friend, making weird noises as they call out to one another. I remind her to eat some lunch, and she does. Hearing her (loud) playing reminds me of my next step towards self-care: sensory needs.

3. Ask myself: are my unique sensory needs being met throughout this challenging emotional day? This is also aligned with the first step in this blog post (i.e., Maslow’s hierarchy), but once again, I like to call it out specifically for myself given I’m a neurodivergent adult with pretty significant (i.e., atypical) “sensory sensitivities”. If my daughter is making slightly too much noise next door in her bedroom (thus distracting me), I can choose to listen to a video of white noise, or (on repeat) one of my favorite geeky piano songs: Peter Bence playing his “Piano Piece Based on the Fibonacci Sequence”. (Yes, he’s a gifted adult.)

If I’m distracted by people outside my window doing yardwork, or by too much sunshine streaming in, I’m allowed to pull down the blind. If I’m physically uncomfortable  (too hot or cold, too restricted), I can change clothes. Etc.

4. Have I moved my body today? In times of chaos and/or depression (these are usually linked for me), I find it crucial to remind myself about what I have control over – which includes taking tiny steps towards building bodily strength. Just like I need to lie down and take breaks for my sensory health, I also need to feel physically empowered. To that end, I can stretch, lift the hand weights I have lying around on my floor, and head out on a brisk walk; I did all of those things this morning, very intentionally.

5. Ask myself: have I really taken care of must-do tasks that are actually timely? It’s always better to double check – and when I did that today, I realized that part of what was weighing on me was the fact I hadn’t yet read through dissertation exam question responses from a student whose committee I’m on, whose defense date is – tomorrow morning. Ah — see, stress is helpful at times. I took a break to skim through what she’s written, and verified I was sufficiently familiarized with her responses to engage meaningfully tomorrow. Meanwhile, when checking my calendar, I realize I have one lengthy Zoom meeting and then one lengthy in-person meeting (on campus) with only half an hour gap in between. (I live an hour away from work.) This means I need to start planning ahead for waking up early enough to head into work (physically speaking) with enough time to navigate rush hour traffic. My brain begins working on this puzzle-of-time (backwards planning: alarm, dress, make-up, breakfast, latte, commuting) and I feel relieved to know that at least I’m internally prepping.

6. Ask myself: What are we doing for dinner tonight? I’ve learned over the years that I do need to think at least a little bit about this, even though it’s truly not my responsibility to get this “perfect” despite relentless marketing towards mothers that If Only You Get Your Act Together You Will Effortlessly Feed Your Kids Healthily On a Budget. I make rice in a cooker and put slow-cooked ribs in the oven; I can smell them, and know this task is underway.

7. Reflect briefly: what other to-do tasks are coming up? This is the end of the quarter for me (I’m a professor), and I therefore have boatloads of grading to do. Meanwhile, it was very tempting (and easy) this morning to get caught up reading about my profession literally being under attack, and I gave myself permission to read exactly one article by trusted commentators about this: “‘It Is Facing a Campaign of Annihilation’: Three Columnists on Trump’s War Against Academia,” a conversation between NY Times Opinion Editor Patrick Healy alongside Masha Gessen, Tressie McMillan Cottom, and Bret Stephens. Reading this reminds me that brilliant minds are “on it” – while they don’t have solutions, and much of what they’re sharing is frightening, I’d rather know I’m not in this alone (I’m not). I CAN reflect on what I might (MIGHT) do as an academic myself, to contribute to public discussions about why so many Americans despise and mistrust higher education – though this will depend upon the always-finite resources of time and energy.

8. Check in with those I care about most. Other than myself, my kids, and my partner — he went out on a walk with me and took care of one task related to our R.V., and now is taking a nap to catch up on an especially hectic and sleep-deprived week — I know that it will help me to check in with friends. I share with my Gifted Adults group co-facilitator that I’m having a rough day but am fine — she affirms this right away, and acknowledges both relating AND being willing to step up in any way needed. I chat with my younger sister, and check in with another friend by text to set up a time to talk later in the week. The very act of talking with others (whether live, by phone, or by text) brings me back to my humanly existence, alongside others.

9. Make a little bit of time for something fun and distracting. Movies are probably my favorite escape hatch. I’ve been (re)visiting M. Night Shymalan’s films recently and adoring his truly unique vision. He writes, directs, sometimes produces, and usually cameos in each of his films, which aren’t for all tastes but – who cares? I was pleasantly surprised by Unbreakable (2000), in which Samuel L. Jackson’s character voices the following quote near the end:

“Do you know what the scariest thing is? To not know your place in this world, to not know why you’re here. That’s – that’s just an awful feeling.”

Yes, indeed, I think I’ll write a separate post about Night’s movies later, since he’s so clearly a gifted adult.

10. Write – even just a little bit. And, here I am – doing just that! My writing juices are (predictably) flowing, and I look forward to returning.

So – that’s my list, my series of proactive steps when feeling gloomy. These steps – again, done iteratively rather than lock-step – help me re-ground and make it through the day.

* Re: the oppressive cloak of depression, I’m used to this – it’s a familiar enough presence that one way my life could be measured is by the frequency and duration of its appearance. At the risk of banality, I’m eager to share the following image which popped up when doing a search for royalty-free images related to “cloak”; this is a Mourning Cloak Butterfly (no joke; this exists). 

So – oppressive cloaks can fly away, can mask resilience, and are entirely a part of this world we co-exist in. I knew this already, but/and was glad for this additional knowledge of collective endurance. 

Copyright © 2025 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution. 

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Gifted Adults Parenting Gifted Kids: Ten Hints for Thriving

I’ve taken a lengthy hiatus (over a year!) from writing on this blog due to a couple of significant factors:

Well, here I am again. I’m still just as invested in the world of giftedness as ever, and have realized that keeping up with this blog is likely the best way to stay on track with my goals of exploration and community-building. I’ll continue to deliberate about privacy issues, and if I do go public, I will likely simply hide away my entries about my kids in order to resolve that dilemma.

I’ll start this revamp by sharing a presentation I’ve given twice over the past couple of years, called “What About Me? Gifted Parents, Parenting Gifted.” (I’m working on fleshing this out into a longer manuscript.) After briefly introducing myself and my three (anonymized) 2E kids, I share the following triple Venn diagram I’ve created to represent where my most salient interests currently lie (in the middle):

I quickly discuss what we know about parenting gifted kids, as well as the little we understand (even less!) about supporting gifted adults – and then, I dive into the intersection of both. The bulk of my presentation is taken up with a list of ten hints or tips that I hope will resonate with participants. Here – very briefly – they are.

Tip 1: Acknowledge your own giftedness in whatever way is comfortable. Acknowledgement is often the first step in any journey of self-awareness and growth. I reassure participants that there are numerous terms they can use to describe their own gifted selves, depending on their comfort level and preference; these include but are not limited to gifted adult, former (perhaps undiagnosed) gifted kid, lifelong learner,  2E adult, bright and quirky adult, multi-potentialite, rainforest-minded person… (I’m sure there are other terms that might be used, too – we need to stay creative and affirmative in our collective brainstorming!)

Tip 2: Recognize what you didn’t get as a gifted child (while remembering that your own kids may likely not need the same things). Next, I ask participants to reflect on this prompt: How did things go for you as a gifted kid? Did you experience trauma of any kind stemming from your giftedness? How might this be impacting the way you respond to your child and their giftedness? I show participants the following chart of social-emotional attributes and potential problems related to giftedness, reminding them that the “gifts” of neurodiversity very often come with associated challenges if insufficiently supported. 

Tip 3: Explore how you and your kids may be “differently gifted”. I remind participants that despite certain commonalities, gifted experiences are actually highly varied, and we shouldn’t assume our kids will struggle (or succeed) in the same ways we did. I ask them to reflect on what their own “gifted profile” is, as well as that of their child – clarifying that when I use the term “gifted profile” I’m referring to any twice-exceptionalities (Learning Disabilities, anxiety, ADHD, Autism, etc.); levels of giftedness (mildly, moderately, highly, profoundly); and overall personality elements (including different overexcitabilities and “five factor” personality traits).

Tip 4: Find a peer support group (or simply a like-minded friend or two). We – that is, gifted adults parenting gifted kids – need friends and conversation partners, too, just like our kids! This sounds almost too obvious to state, and yet many things change when we become parents, so reminders are useful. Joining a SENG Model Parent Group was life-altering (in a very good way!) for me, and I highly recommend this as a next step for participants if they haven’t already taken part in one.  

Tip 5: Don’t allow others to define who you “should” be as a parent. No matter how many books continue to be published (and they will never stop!), there really is no “one way” to be an effective parent for your gifted child. You know your own kid(s) best, and should be encouraged to pick and choose wisely from all the (healthy) ideas that are out there. I remind participants that taking care of their own gifted needs should be part of their overall parenting plan, too: for some gifted parents, this means continuing your career in some fashion; for others, it means putting a halt on their career and/or shifting gears. These are all challenging choices, deserving of affirmation and support. 

Tip 6: View parenting as an opportunity for ongoing learning. Gifted adults often look for new opportunities to learn and explore – so I remind participants that parenting is an ideal venue for a growth mindset! Doing deep dives into new topics can be overwhelming, but also a nerdy blast (I especially recommend Debbie Reber’s Tilt Parenting podcast). As (age) appropriate, I recommend to participants that they talk out loud with their kids about their parenting challenges, to openly model growth and learning. What choices are you facing? How do you problem solve? The more you can involve your kids in these discussions, the more committed they will be.

Tip 7: Enjoy your child’s intellect and humor.  I love this hint in particular, because in the midst of all the challenges, we forget to simply have fun with our kids. They often have amazing insights, and awesomely quirky (or at least wonderfully corny) word play to impart. In our household, we make it a nightly ritual to take turns sharing jokes, facts, and/or highs-and-lows from the day – a process which often turns into a free-for-all discussion of a random topic that leaves us all a little bit more informed and energized.

Tip 8: Make at least a little time for your personal passions. Try to let go of mantras like “I’m too old”, “I’m too busy”, and “I need to focus exclusively on my kids’ skills, not mine.” By engaging in your own passions to whatever extent you can (even 5 minutes a day), you are modeling lifelong learning and personal growth for your kids – and this is crucial.

Tip 9: Extend the same care to yourself as you do for your kids. You know that your gifted child needs compassion, support, and sensory attention. Are you extending that to yourself? Talking out loud about what you need to be comfortable and effective throughout the day can help to normalize this for your child, too. My kids know I need to stretch, lie down, look out the window, and be by myself periodically to get grounded – and they have their own lists of self-regulation hacks. 

Tip 10: Finally, don’t forget the little things. I added this last tip during my second go-around with the presentation, when I realized that getting too lost in the clouds of Big Ideas and Lofty Goals can be detrimental to daily happiness for gifted folks, both personally and as parents. We can (and should – if we want to!) stop to recognize the small wins and joys, which, taken together, ultimately comprise a life worth living (Linehan, 2020).

This last hint relates to the broader topic of spiritual well-being for gifted individuals. After a life spent recovering from spiritual/religious trauma (a topic for another blog post), I’m slowly coming back to my own sense of what’s comfortable and helpful in this sphere for my own life journey – and I’ll be sharing more about that in time.

Copyright © 2023 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

References: 

Fonseca, C. (2016). Emotional intensity in gifted students: Helping kids cope with explosive feelings (2nd Edition). Prufrock Press Inc.

Linehan, M. M. (2020). Building a life worth living: A memoir. Random House Publishers.

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Parenting During Turbulent Times

I started this blog in August of 2020, five months after the COVID-19 pandemic began. We were living through such extraordinary times that I wanted to document some of my thoughts on what navigating that was like, particularly as a parent.

Now it’s June of 2022, nearly two years later – and while much has changed on the COVID-19 landscape (all three of our kids have been back to in-person schooling all year, for instance), life hasn’t simply regressed to a prior mean of any kind.

Instead, as we all know, the pandemic oh-so-predictably made pre-existing social challenges even more acute – and what we are seeing these days is likely just the beginning of long-lasting ripple effects. Most of us thought we were simply toughing it out during the worst of times in 2020 and would eventually be given some kind of reprieve – but that process has been far from straightforward or inherently comforting.

As someone keenly aware of and interested in systems, patterns, and Ways of Being, I’m obviously watching world events with an ongoing level of heightened interest.  Like most Rainforest Minded people, I need to monitor my consumption of, and engagement with, current events so I can maintain an appropriate level of groundedness in daily life and not get too caught up in despair. I do obsessively watch PBS Newshour each evening, listen to NPR while driving, and read major newspaper headlines and some articles – but I also escape into enjoyable activities and try to stay focused on day to day parenting needs.

Just as I did during the height of the pandemic, I’m continuously reflecting on what each of our three 2E kids – I. (age 9), D. (age 12), and C. (age 13) – needs, and how my husband and I can ensure they keep growing and thriving. This year, that’s specifically involved dealing with bullies and anxiety; helping them find therapists; celebrating their executive functioning successes in school (YES!); and continuously accepting that academic achievement will rarely look “typical” for them but can still look pretty awesome.

All of this was challenging enough prior to the pandemic, when I was first desperately trying to figure out my kids’ diagnoses of twice-exceptionality and what that meant for them in terms of providing sufficient support. It’s even harder now – but I’ll add that at least over these past few years I’ve come to terms with the fact that parenting = continuous learning; it’s a journey, not a destination. Pacing for a marathon rather than a sprint continues to be the right metaphor.

Thanks to my ongoing deep dives into neurodiversity, giftedness, anxiety, and parenting more broadly, I’ve internalized that there is no such thing as a “simple answer” for any kid’s schooling and wellness needs – least of all for my own three 2E learners. Instead, I need to continue to pace myself, check in regularly with their teachers, and keep the bigger picture in mind.

These days, however, as astonishing as it is to accept, there are added challenges. While the pandemic is now in some ways much lower on the priority scale, political instability, gun violence, mental wellness,  global warfare, climate change, and other such “wicked problems” have continued to intensify – and, as a Gen X-er raised to look to the past to learn about all the hideous mistakes we’ve made so we can avoid making them again (duh!), it’s beyond disheartening to accept that we apparently haven’t evolved enough as humans to move forward in such a linear style of progress.

But aren’t things better now than they were in the past? If we look at historical data rather than current headlines, yes, of course. However, just as I struggle with taking a purely “rational” approach to philanthropy (like that put forth by effective altruists), I can’t accept that what’s happening right now can or should simply be placed into perspective as “better than it used to be”.

The facts on the surface are crystal clear*: authoritarian dictators continue to emerge and stay in power with astonishing levels of acceptance and support; climate change is having disastrous and likely irreversible impacts on our planet;  racist ideologies are proliferating rather than receding; drug abuse and suicide rates (especially among younger people) are higher than ever; too many American citizens think that arming teachers and “hardening” schools is a solution to mass shootings; etc.

Speaking of this last topic, my older two kids were involved in a “school safety” incident last week. On a Friday afternoon, we got a mass text message from their district saying that C. and D.’s middle school was “going into a Safe Inside [mode] due to a threat made against the school community.” We were further told: “Police are on their way to investigate. All students and staff are safe. We will provide more information as it becomes available.”

What did I do with this information?

At first, I experienced gut-wrenching panic, of course – and then, after carefully re-reading the message, I realized that there was no immediate danger because our kids were behind locked doors in their classrooms.

At this point, I proceeded to:

  • Internalize the fact that this kind of scenario was not such a surprise, really, after the mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas a few weeks ago. I mean, this is our new reality now, right?
  • Reflect on how many citizens in other countries don’t need to “internalize” this kind of messaging about the safety of their kids’ schools vis-à-vis gun violence.
  • Contemplate what this means for our nation more broadly, and how we seem to be permanently in love with the idea of survival as a series of Wild West battles Americans must simply be prepared for (and too bad if you’re not).
  • Feel alarm when my son jokingly says, “FBI – open up!” during a game that evening with his siblings, and I am compelled to interject with part of The School Safety Talk: “You know, if you were locked inside your classroom and heard someone saying that, you shouldn’t automatically believe them… They might not be telling the truth.”

This blog post has rambled. I intended to simply talk about parenting during ongoing turbulent times, and landed pretty quickly on a sense of despair about our nation.

Maybe that was inevitable. It’s impossible to know where things will head in the coming months or years, but my husband and I are talking seriously about our options (such as they are). We try to share bits and pieces with our kids, to the extent we think they can understand, but ultimately – as usual – there are no easy or perfect paths forward.

Just like during the height of the pandemic (which hasn’t ended, btw), I’m focused on keeping the following priorities in mind. I want to ensure my kids understand that:

  • our well-being as a family comes first and foremost;
  • we will protect them as much as humanly possible;
  • caring for one another remains paramount.

I’ll return in another post to share more about the personal (adult) ramifications world events are having on my life as a gifted grown-up; for now, I’m accepting that this is all simply part of the inherently messy journey of parenting.

‘Twas ever thus, one way or another.

* … at least to those not deluded by misinformation campaigns – most certainly a topic for yet another post.

Copyright © 2022 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

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The Challenge of Decisions

I haven’t written anything on this blog for quite a few months, given a wide variety of factors – but primarily due to my inability to decide exactly what it is I want to be doing here, how much to share, and why.

Existential much? I sure am.

Then again, I face this type of existential questioning across multiple spheres of my life, all the time – which is what led me to choose the topic of this particular post months ago (then abandon it, then start it again, then abandon it, etc.)

But here I am, making the decision to finish this post, in which I’ll focus on my biggest choice-point this year.

This past winter, I had to consider whether or not to formally apply for my own position. The work I’d been doing in academia on a year-to-year basis was finally being formalized into a legitimate title, and I had to decide whether to put myself through a competitive search for my own position.

In other words, I had to make one of the following two choices: 

  1. Go through the grueling work of applying for a formal, promotion-line academic position (my own), which involved not only submitting a full application package and passing an initial interview, but producing a job talk for peers followed by an entire day of back-to-back interviews and talks with stakeholders (many of whom I’d worked with for years), all while knowing there were at least two other qualified people competing for this same position.
  2. Say “screw that stress” and pivot to another career altogether. 

It’s pretty easy to see why I was so, so tempted to choose #2.

And, I almost did.

At first, I decided not to apply. I told my supervisor about my decision, and gave her permission to tell others. I avoided attending team meetings as much as possible, to give myself space away from the process.

But then, I got a call from the search committee, and was encouraged to reconsider – which, I did.

In short: I applied for my own job. I was offered my own job. I attempted to negotiate a few things (without much luck). Ultimately, I accepted. So, I am staying in my position, albeit at a higher workload – which was something I wanted to negotiate down but couldn’t.

This entire process was exhausting and unnerving – but yes, I am glad I did it, and it feels “right” to stay with what’s known, for now.

But it sure took a while to get to that space – hence, again, the focus of this post.

During the months-long decision-making process about my job, I was constantly considering a host of other possibilities – because, they’re always there, and how can I possibly know which of them would be “best”? The truth is, with multiple degrees and a reasonably adventurous (i.e., easily bored) personality, it feels like I’m always trying to figure out what’s next and what’s “right”, job wise.

Indeed, the older I get, and the more I tap into my identity as a gifted, multi-potentialite adult, the more I think this may simply be my ongoing reality ad infinitum. It’s likely that I will always feel drawn in at least five different (legitimately interesting) career directions, and never be sure what’s next or “best”.

I struggle more broadly with the fact that humans face countless choice points at every moment of our lives, and that we can’t ever really know if we’re doing the “right” thing. This is one of those existential quandaries that tends to bedevil many gifted adults – but I think I may have an especially bad case of it. I was raised in a spiritual group with members who hold the sincere belief that it is possible to tap into the “best right answer” (from God) in terms of what to do next, and that’s stayed with me for decades. Despite leaving this group many years ago, it’s taken me a really long time to overcome the conditioning that if only I’m sufficiently tapped into my spiritual connection to God or a higher power, I’ll get guidance and answers I can feel good and solid about. And if I don’t feel that clarity, something must be wrong with me.

We’re getting into issues of identity and perfectionism here, super-quick.

On the other hand, it’s a known human dilemma to struggle with choice. When psychologist Barry Schwartz published The Paradox of Choice: Why Less is More in 2004, I remember feeling tremendous relief, since it validated my innate sense that too many choices could literally be crazy-making.

If that’s the case, could fewer choices help – and could a minimalist approach be useful? From Marie Kondo’s work on personal organizing to books about minimalist parenting and the entire sphere of mindfulness literature more broadly, there are so many resources out there to help one be more intentional about  choices; the problem is, my challenge with decisions runs deeper than this.

I have existential angst around choice.

If I let myself, I could easily get spun in a web asking classic existential questions like:

“What could have happened if I’d made this choice instead of that one?”

“If I do this moving forward, will that lead to the most happiness?”

“And speaking of happiness, is that even the most appropriate metric to guide a person’s life?”

Etc., etc.

It’s these “meta” questions I get stuck on – and I still don’t have any easy answers or paths out. I can make “pro and con” lists, talk with beloved friends and family members to get their perspectives, read books, actively meditate or sleep on an issue, see a therapist, join a support group, and more. But at the end of the day, I will still never know whether my choices are “right” or “best”.

And knowing that reality is what eats away at me.

I get it why so many people choose paths in life that confer some sense of certainty, through religion or a particular mindset or social expectations. That just doesn’t work for me.

So, I’m stuck with decisions. We all are. Every moment of every day. Will I wear this outfit, or that one? Will I eat this for breakfast, or that? Will I work on that task, or this one? Should I leave now, or in 5 minutes?

And those are just the small decisions of life.

What I do understand is that I can’t ever know which choice might “be best” – and while I’m incredibly grateful for the freedom to have a choice (I truly don’t take that for granted!), I sure wish my brain could rest easy for once about the decisions I make.

Or maybe that would be… boring?

Never mind.

I’ll take complexity and uncertainty any day. That’s one decision I DO know for sure.

Copyright © 2022 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

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“I Made a Deal With My Procrastination!”

https://www.flickr.com/photos/lynnfriedman/13944701232

My three kids — I. (8 years old), D. (11 years old), and C. (13 years old) — have been back at school in-person now (with masks) since September, and it’s been an interesting journey settling back into a semblance of pre-pandemic life.

A lot has changed since March of 2020, of course: I. is now in third grade rather than first; D. is in middle school, adjusting to having six teachers rather than one; and C. is a teenager starting high school (high school!) next year. I’m happy to report that, for the most part, they are doing well and staying reasonably on track. They all agree, without hesitation, that in-person schooling – as exhausting as it is – is infinitely better than what we lived through at home last year.

It’s been easier on me and my husband as well. While it’s taken a few months, I think we’re finally used to the lack of noise and hubbub around us as we proceed with our own work during the day. Since we’re both still primarily (or, in his case, entirely) working from home, The Parenting Juggle remains easier — though this is balanced out by how tired and weary everyone still is. By the end of the schoolday, my kids are done: they need whatever spare energy they can grab for ongoing recuperation.

I’ll focus the rest of this entry on how my oldest, C., is doing. (I’ll return in later posts to talk about D. and I.)

C. (knock-on-wood) seems to have come to an acceptance of her executive functioning challenges  – i.e., planning, staying organized, and procrastinating – and is working hard to find strategies to help herself stay successful. I named this post on her behalf because I was so tickled to hear her come and say to me a couple of months ago:

“Mom – I made a deal with my procrastination! I woke up earlier than usual this morning and thought to myself, ‘I have an extra half-an-hour of time that I don’t normally have. Why don’t I get my math homework done now so that it doesn’t interfere with my after-school relaxation time later?’ And, it worked! I got it done!”

C. was so pleased that this worked, and rightfully so. Helping my kids – and my husband – manage their executive functioning challenges has really highlighted for me how much behind-the-scenes work and negotiation goes on in terms of “getting things done.”  While many of us may not think much about it, we are all constantly making tiny choices about how we handle the details of our life: when we choose to do something (or not), and why; how much effort to put into something (and why); whether (and who) to ask for help; etc. It’s complex.

Last spring, I started taking C. to see an Executive Functioning (EF) Coach for an hour a week, in the hopes that this would help her build her own toolbox of strategies and meta-cognition around schoolwork. C. liked the coach, and things were going fine – but the coach seemed a little puzzled about how to best help her, since C. pretty quickly came to the following realizations about herself (I’m paraphrasing on her behalf):

  • “Sometimes I like the schoolwork I’m assigned, but mostly I don’t. Regardless, I have to get my schoolwork done or else I don’t get decent grades in school and I feel bad about myself, in addition to making my parents frustrated and sad, and having my personal electronics taken away until I catch up.”
  • “I really, really like the socialization aspect of schooling, and would rather put up with work assigned by teachers than homeschooling and doing my own projects (which would be way too lonely and unmotivating).”
  • “I prefer to get my work done during schooltime if at all possible, so that it’s out of the way by the time I get home – but if that can’t happen, I need to find ways to not procrastinate on finishing, which usually includes telling my parents.”

Based on these self-realizations, C.’s EF coach told me that she felt confident C. would be able to manage on her own (with our support) this year – but she told me I should feel free to reach out if any new challenges arose, since she’d developed rapport and a relationship with C. and could easily step in to help. Fair enough! I was happy to save the time and money on sessions, and willing to start fresh and see how C. did.

Sure enough, as I mentioned earlier, being back in person has made a world of difference for C. and her schooling motivation. Remote learning was, in her words, “not real school” – and while I would beg to differ, she’s entitled to her own feelings and opinions, and this remains her truth.

C. still struggles with anxiety (she had a panic attack at school a few weeks ago), but has learned over the years that the best thing to do is reach out for help – which she did that day, right away. She contacted the school counselor, who got her in touch with a school therapist specially hired for the year to support kids as they transition back after quarantine – and just knowing he’s there has helped C. to relax. Meanwhile, she asked me to please find her a new therapist of her own to talk so, and she’s now on the waitlist for two recommended people (it’s even more challenging than ever to find someone with space on their caseload these days).

As a young and gifted teenager, C. continues to care a lot about social justice issues, talking with passion about the need for inclusivity across multiple spheres. She’s interested in dying her hair, and we are looking into what this will cost and require to maintain. She wants a pair of chunky heel combat boots for Christmas, to start developing “her look”. Her favorite hobby is working on creative, unusual drawings she designs using an app called ibisPaint; she seems especially interested in crafting hybrid creatures that merge humans with mythical or real animals (the girl below is part wolf):

She is insistent that she doesn’t need to explain her aesthetic choices to anyone, and I fully agree.

C. joined Drama Club this year – behind the scenes only, since she’s still too anxious to be on stage, but loves helping out. We went to see a high school production of “Clue” last week and had a blast; I can totally see her being a “drama kid” and finding her peeps there.  We’ll see.

For now, I’m just grateful that C. has found methods for getting through school, for relaxing, for being creative, and for reaching out whenever she needs support – these are all major successes as far as I’m concerned.

Copyright © 2021 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

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School is (Almost) Here

“Did you know there are more decimal numbers between zero and one than there are positive whole numbers?”

Our 11-year-old son D. walked into our bedroom this morning sharing this very-interesting-fact – likely something he learned through a  YouTube video or a sub-Reddit. Since the pandemic began – when all our kids received their own personal laptop to be able to engage with remote schooling and survive many hours in isolation – he’s been exploring various nooks of what my geeky husband refers to as the “interwebs”.

Of course, there’s plenty Out There that we’re not happy about – at all. We quickly realized last year that we would have to pivot to teaching our kids media literacy skills sooner than we wanted to, to help them make sense of the onslaught of stimuli they would be exposed to on the internet. Like covid (sigh), none of that is going away anytime soon.

So, when D. came in wanting to share this interesting fact about numbers – just one among many he’s been contemplating – I felt a sense of gratitude and relief that he’s self-selecting complex learning in between playing plenty of Dragon Mania Legends, Minecraft, Dungeons and Dragons, and Adopt Me.

This happens to all be online, but when I pause to do “old school” activities with D. – like Marcy Cook Tile Math or word puzzles – he gets super caught up in those as well. (He is absolutely astonished how many words start with “con” – really and truly.)

Reading? Not so much. My husband has just now been realizing how D. “can’t sit still” and clearly struggles with settling down long enough to get deeply immersed in a book. We’re not sure what’s next on the ADHD-Inattentive front for him…

However, in my months (now years!) of exploring the world of giftedness, twice-exceptionality, and parenting 2e kids, I’ve learned that D.’s “profile” is oh-so-common – and, that’s helpful. I feel less alone, and grateful to know that thousands of other parents are also seeking (and crafting) solutions and guidance for how to help our quirky kids thrive in a school system not yet designed for them.

Speaking of school – it’s about to start, and options abound (well, sort of). But, as usual, none of them are perfect, and all of them involve compromises. The heady brew of a once-again-virulent pandemic (my two younger kids are still ineligible for a vaccination), social discord over best practices for surviving said-pandemic, and the fact that my neurodiverse son – about to start middle school – hasn’t engaged with in-person schooling for 17+ months mean I’m facing a set of challenges I can’t quite wrap my head around.

How do I strike the “right” balance of pushing my kid forward into slightly uncomfortable situations while scaffolding his very-real need for accommodations, both social and academic? Do we cough up money for an alternative (private) school – assuming one is available – that will better align with his learning style? Do we keep him home, studying remotely and at his own pace through our district’s “alternative learning experience”, at least until he’s vaccinated?  And if so, won’t that just make transitioning into “live” middle school even harder?

When will he have a chance to meet new kids and practice making some friends?

I sincerely don’t know.

Meanwhile, as I’ve reiterated many times on this blog, D. is just one of my three kids needing specialized support.  My older daughter, C., is about to turn 13 and will be continuing her weekly work with an executive functioning coach, which I hope (fingers crossed!!!) will make a significant difference for her sense of personal efficacy around schooling and “getting things done”. She’s most concerned right now with finding “her group”, transitioning back into some semblance of social normalcy as she navigates young teenagehood.

My younger daughter, I. (age 8),  will return to in-person schooling unvaccinated but masked; for her, this is a risk we need to take as we balance all considerations, most especially her critical need for live interaction with others. I. has resisted all attempts to practice her multiplication facts over the summer (strongly recommended by her 2nd grade teacher), and I take solace in the fact that my brilliant husband was the last in his class to memorize his, yet knows and understands far more about math then the majority of folks. I. is a cracker-jack trader on Adopt Me, and has shown us that when she’s passionate about something, she is truly all-in! It’s about finding and nurturing that passion.

I have many more topics to share and discuss on this blog, and am hoping to get back into a more regular routine once again after several months off.

In the meantime,  I’m sending plenty of positive vibes out to all of us parents as we navigate yet another new and interesting school year together.

Copyright © 2021 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

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Gifted Parents, Parenting Gifted: Self-Care

https://pixabay.com/photos/music-sheet-in-a-shadow-flute-piano-5117328/

There continues to be quite a bit written about the need for self-care when parenting – for good reason.

Speaking from personal experience, I know how easy it is to focus the majority of your energy on keeping your kids healthy and thriving, which can easily edge into little-to-no time left for your own needs and wants.

To a certain extent, this makes sense. When my kids were infants and toddlers, for instance, their needs from me were (appropriately) all-consuming. I got as much help as I could from others, and tried to expand my childcare “village” to a reasonable  extent (actually a necessity, since I was keeping my career going at the same time) – but I still always needed to be ready and available for them, which meant cutting out nearly all “non-essentials”.

(Notice I said nearly all; I decided to keep my film review site going, for instance, as a sanity-saver.) 

Over the years, as my kids have grown older, the question for me has become: how and when can I start easing back into more of the activities I used to enjoy before having kids? To be clear, I wouldn’t choose to go back to that era for anything; I was someone who knew I wanted kids from an early age, and was waiting eagerly to meet the right person and get started on a family. But eventually there were things I started to miss about my pre-kids life, back when I had a ton more time and energy to focus on taking care of my own needs.

In this post, I’ll talk about what it’s like to be a gifted adult practicing self-care while parenting gifted kids. It’s part of a tagged series I’m starting entitled “Gifted Parents, Parenting Gifted” (yes, I love palindromes and all kinds of word play; and yes, I know this isn’t exactly a palindrome, but, close enough).

To define self-care, I’ll use a phrase from the Very Well Family article linked above:

Taking care of your spiritual, physical, psychological, and social needs will help you feel your best so you can be the best parent you can be.

So – I’ll define “self-care” as “spiritual, physical, psychological, and social needs”, which seems to cover a pretty broad range. Also, just to clarify: when I use the term gifted parent, I am referring to a gifted adult who happens to be parenting – not simply a “parent of a gifted kid” (though there’s obviously huge overlap).

As I noted in my introduction, there is a LOT out there on the internet about self-care, and plenty on self-care specifically geared towards parents (with even more emerging during the pandemic). But, what are the unique self-care considerations for gifted adults who are parenting?

Of course, much if not all of the existing self-care advice – i.e., meditating, spending time in nature, listening to music, etc. – are good ideas for everyone to consider as part of their self-care menu. But I would posit there are a few additional needs for gifted parents to keep in mind as well. Below are my initial thoughts on the topic, which I’ll continue to reflect on and refine over time.

  1. In Searching for Meaning (2015), Jim Webb notes our need as gifted adults to make meaning in and of the world, and leave a lasting impact. He specifically suggests the following strategies (described in greater detail in his book, which I recommend): creating your own life script, becoming involved in causes, using bibliotherapy and journaling, maintaining a sense of humor, touching and feeling connected, developing authentic relationships, compartmentalizing, letting go, living in the present moment, learning optimism and resiliency, focusing on the continuity of generations, mentoring and teaching, and “rippling”. Several of these strategies actually relate very directly to parenting – i.e., “developing authentic relationships” (with our kids), “living in the present moment” (an invaluable parenting strategy), and “focusing on the continuity of generations” (definitely doing that by parenting!). Naming and acknowledging these strategies as inherent to our parenting can help to alleviate some of the existential angst felt by gifted parents, who may otherwise tend to relentlessly question if they’re “doing enough”.
  2. In Bright Adults (2015), Ellen Fiedler describes the following “significant needs and issues throughout the lifespan” of gifted adults: acceptance; meaningful connections; living with intensity (either intellectual, sensory, imaginational, and/or emotional); access to resources; relevant challenges; and finding meaning. Fiedler’s list reminds us that even as adults, we continue to live with various intensities of our own (while also dealing with those of our kids), and need access to resources and relevant challenges. Obviously, parenting itself could be viewed as the ultimate “relevant challenge”, and I know of many gifted adults who address it in exactly that way – i.e., it’s not just exhausting work (though it is that, too!) but also a fun project to dive into and learn from. The many podcasts and blogs out there on parenting (including this one!) are a testament to how fulfilling it can be to reflect on our parenting journey, share ideas with others, and maintain a stance of lifelong learning.
  3. Gifted parents, like gifted kids, benefit from finding like-minded peers to engage with. Joining a SENG parent group (which I now co-facilitate) was when I first made this a ha connection for myself. I was suddenly able to relate to other parents in a way that had eluded me for years; I could talk openly about the unique challenges I was seeing in my own kids, while never feeling the need to “dumb down” my thoughts or ideas. And, I found a few good friends! If a support group isn’t available near you, there are a number of private Facebook groups related specifically to parenting gifted kids, and/or you can sign up to hear about parenting seminars hosted by organizations such as SENG, NAGC, IEA, John Hopkins Center for Talented Youth, and local gifted organizations in your area.
  4. Allow yourself to join in with your gifted kids’ interests and hobbies. If you’ve always wanted to learn to play an instrument, speak a language, or take art classes, now is an ideal chance to be inspired – by your kid! For instance, when my son first started learning the violin, it was literally painful for me to sit there watching and listening during his lesson while not joining in myself; so, I invested in an adult-sized violin and went to town. I ended up not having the time or stamina to continue for very long (I do have a rambling rainforest mind, after all . . . ), but it was extremely satisfying to at least scratch that lifelong itch and experience what violin playing was all about.
  5. Finally, an idea specifically mentioned in the linked article above on self-care strategies is to join a book club, which I would argue may be especially important for gifted parents. I plan to write a separate post about this in more detail, but for now I will share that in recent months I’ve joined two different book clubs (both online for the moment) and found them to be an awesome supplement to my “self-care regime”.  They are very much for me – a great excuse to carve out time for enjoyable reading – but/and they also help me talk openly with my kids about the joys of prioritizing books and getting together with other people to discuss them. Win-win all around.

I’m excited to begin this exploration of what it means for gifted parents to be mindful of their self-care needs while engaging in the most (in)valuable long-term “project” of their lives: raising their kids.

Copyright © 2021 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

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Second Booster: SENG Spring Mini-Conference Take-Aways (Part 2)

A true benefit of pandemic times, for me, has been the ability to attend conferences I otherwise wouldn’t have the time or energy for, given how exhausting it is to travel. (Traveling is amazing and wondrous, but also exhausting; that’s most definitely a topic for another blog post.) 

Not only have pretty much all conferences and presentations been virtual this year, but the majority have been recorded and thus available for viewing at a later time. It couldn’t get more convenient than that for busy working parents.

With that said, I’m here to share my take-aways from the remaining SENG Spring Mini-Conference sessions I attended after-the-fact – i.e., by accessing the recordings. As I mentioned in my last post, SENG tends to pull together some truly amazing speakers, and is a non-profit well worth joining and supporting.

The sessions I’ll be reporting on here are:

  • Dr. Ross Greene on “Collaborative & Proactive Solutions: Moving From Power and Control to Collaboration and Problem-Solving”
  • Julie Skolnick on “Managing Social Emotional Engagement, Effective Communication and Emotion Regulation During the Pandemic”
  • Debbie Reber on “Fostering Self-Knowledge and Personal Strengths in Your 2e Child”
  • Dr. Richard Cash on “Getting Out of the Quagmire: A Roadmap for Redirecting Underachievers and Selective Producers”
  • Dr. Susan Baum on “Gifts Come in Different Packages: It’s All About Style”

Whew. This is a lot, and each topic deserves its own post, but for now I will simply share key ideas and take-aways.

Dr. Ross Greene has been writing about and presenting on so-called “explosive” kids for decades; his books are all well worth reading.

Dr. Greene urges parents, educators, and others working with high-intensity kids to be open to the following paradigm shift: kids “act out” when they lack the skills to engage in what’s being asked of them, either by adults or themselves. If you can identify both what kids are being asked to do (i.e., the unsolved problem), and the skills they are lacking in order to do this (i.e., the lagging skills), then you can prioritize and target skills instruction.

Dr. Greene posits that he has never, ever in his lengthy career met a kid who genuinely prefers to not do well; rather, they’re simply lacking the skills to do so.

Skill areas that kids tend to be lagging in include the following:

  • executive functioning skills
  • language/communication skills
  • emotion regulation skills
  • cognitive flexibility skills
  • social skills

Dr. Greene recommends that caretakers begin by completing an ALSUP questionnaire (Assessment of Lagging Skills and Unsolved Problems) for a child, then prioritize the child’s problems based on safety, frequency, and gravity. (We can’t work on everything at once.)

At this point, we must consider which of the following plans to use:

Plan A is to simply to solve a problem unilaterally – i.e., use your adult hand to force the issue. If a child is putting herself or others in immediate danger, this is the obvious “plan” to choose.

Plan C is based on the idea that sometimes we have to set certain problems aside and acknowledge they’re not a top priority right now, which might mean coming up with an interim plan for these problems (i.e., temporarily suspending certain expectations for the child).

Dr. Greene’s Plan B for solving high-priority problems collaboratively consists of the following steps:

  1. Empathy: Gather information from the child in terms of what’s hard for them about meeting expectations. We need to shift away from making assumptions, and instead talk with our kids to hear their perspectives.
  2. Define Adult Concerns: Adults must identify the concerning behaviors they’re seeing in kids. Since the problems children face tend to be predictable, once we look for the patterns, we can be proactive rather than reactive.
  3. Invitation: Collaborate on a solution that is realistic and mutually satisfactory. Both these two conditions are critical for long-term success, given that if the child doesn’t agree, then you are looking at temporary “compliance” at best.

This process is obviously much easier said than done – however, Dr. Greene’s work is invaluable in terms of offering a sequential approach to solving situations with kids who are unable to thrive in mainstream spaces without adult intervention and support. It was good to hear from him “live”.

Julie Skolnick runs the website withunderstandingcomescalm.com, where she offers guidance to 2E kids and adults.

In her presentation for SENG on coping strategies during the pandemic, she began by pointing out the “great irony” of the fact that 2E kids often have a deep desire to connect, but also present with intensities that can be “too much” for many, leading to internal messaging that somehow their authentic selves are wrong.

Common struggles for 2E kids (do these sound familiar?)  include the need to be right; being too goal oriented; challenges with executive functioning; (dis)trust; being easily distractible; and living with one or more of Dabrowski’s “over-excitabilities” (psychomotor, sensual, intellectual, imaginational, and emotional).

Julie presented the “Skolnick Formula for Emotional Disregulation”™, in which she posited that:

  1. the giftedness characteristics of intellectual interests, existential considerations, asynchronous development, perfectionism, and overexcitabilities tend to lead to
  2.  anxiety, stress, frustration, and misunderstanding,  which then lead to
  3.  emotional dysregulation (manifesting as challenging behaviors), which elicits
  4.  reactions and responses from those around them . . .

. . . which then fuels the child’s anxiety, stress, and frustration. It can be a vicious cycle. Just as in Dr. Greene’s approach described above, Julie argues that we should learn to anticipate trigger moments for our kids and intervene proactively rather than reactively.

Julie reminded us that environment for 2E kids is critical – and yet the “triple P” environment we’ve been living with throughout the last year – pandemic, politics, and protests – has brought a heightened sense of discord, dystopia, and dismay for many 2E kids. Communication with teachers remains critically important, yet has also been more challenging than ever given the inherent limitations of learning through screens, such as tech issues; teacher distractions; household distractions (for the student); and the inability for teachers to manage or defuse issues one-on-one.

Julie’s number one message for audience members was to remember the importance of connection. Strategies she listed for enhancing connection include: being honest; leading with empathy; giving kids the benefit of the doubt; giving up the need to be ‘right’; giving kids a ‘piece of the pie’; shifting priorities; taking care of yourself; doing something for someone else; keeping a ‘gratitude attitude’; and starting each day anew.

The most tangible take-away for me from Julie’s talk was the metaphor of “letting go of a rope”: she asked everyone in the audience to pretend that we were tugging on a rope – tugging, tugging, tugging, tugging – and then . . .  we were asked to simply let go of the rope.  This, she explained, can be a useful way to approach communication challenges with our kids. Every now and then, we should simply let it go. Breathe. Pause. Give it a moment. Let go of the rope. We can return to it later.

Debbie Reber is a beloved staple of my parenting repertoire. After attending a SENG parent support group a couple of years ago, I binge-listened to Debbie’s TILT Parenting podcast series, and it was a game-changer in terms of getting me quickly up to speed on major players and concepts in the 2E world. Debbie’s son Asher (now 16) fits a similar profile to my son D., so her personal reflections feel especially pertinent.

In this talk for SENG, Debbie focused on promoting self-knowledge and personal strengths in our 2E kids, with the ultimate goal of raising kids who are curious and open to feedback. She began by discussing ways to (and whether or not to) bring up a child’s diagnoses with them, reminding us that if/when we do so, we should: begin with strengths; be honest; consider this part of an ongoing conversation with our kids; and ask questions.

Other hints in her talk included:

  • We should be mindful about using language that supports rather than shames our kids, and that validates and empathizes with their challenges.
  • We need to give our kids space, and remember that it’s perfectly fine (and usually preferable!) to debrief a challenge after the storm has passed.
  • When reflecting back on particularly “low” moments, we should get curious, connect, repair, and then forge ahead.

Finally, Debbie emphasized the need for us to develop our kids’ sense of agency, control, motivation, and self-direction. She is a huge fan of William Stixrud and Ned Johnson’s book The Self-Driven Child: The Science and Sense of Giving Your Kids More Control Over Their Lives (2018), which I will eventually be reporting on for this blog.

In closing, Debbie reminded us to make self-discovery a priority as parents, too. Here’s to that!

Dr. Rick Cash’s presentation was geared towards helping teachers differentiate their instruction and personalize their connections with students in order to address issues of underachievement.

He discussed the difference between non-producers (students who refuse to do any work, though they often perform well on summative assessments) and selective producers (students who engage in work they feel personally motivated by). He reminded us that affect, behavior, and cognition all play a part in students’ performance, and offered the following roadmap for teachers to follow (comparable to a Gradual Release of Responsibility pedagogical approach):

  1. modeling while students observe (“I do, you watch”)
  2. asking students to “copy and do” (“I do, you help”)
  3. engaging students in guided practice (“You do, I help”)
  4. promoting independence and application in students (“You do, I watch”)

He further discussed different “learner orientations”, distinguishing between students with:

  • a mastery approach (kids who work hard to achieve their personal best)
  • mastery avoidance (kids who are comfortable with being “good enough”)
  • a performance approach (kids who compete to be better than others)
  • performance avoidance (kids who avoid “performing” at all)

Finally, Dr. Cash presented what he refers to as the RIC essentials: Reliable Relationships, Individual Importance, and Community Connections.

These are solid guidelines to follow in all walks of life, and especially essential in school.

Dr. Susan Baum’s presentation was a lovely end to a jam-packed conference. Dr. Baum is the Director of The 2e Center for Research and Professional Development at Bridges Academy in Southern California, and she brings infectious enthusiasm to the work she does.

She shared about four different “personality profiles” she’s developed, which help us to better understand ourselves and our kids. The profiles are:

  • practical managers
  • learned experts
  • creative problem solvers
  • people persons

She pointed out that we all have components of each of these in ourselves – and, critically, we are able to call up elements of them when/as needed. For instance, even those of us who are decidedly not “people persons” at heart can learn tools to manage being in groups on occasion, especially when necessary (i.e., for work). Meanwhile, those who normally function as “creative problem solvers” or “learned experts” can tap into practical management skills every now and then (albeit sometimes with necessary coaching and support).

Dr. Baum raced breezily through her slideshow (there was so much to share!), describing common characteristics of each of these personality profiles, what a “good day” looks like for someone fitting that profile, common needs and issues that come up, and keys to negotiation (focusing specifically on school age kids). She ended each “type” with an example of a photo of a real-life famous adult and their actual desk or workspace. Here’s a brief overview of the four types:

  • Practical managers are time keepers and organizers who operate in a concrete sequential fashion. They like to check things off of lists, and prefer days when life is predictable and there’s an agenda available. They thrive on structure, but may struggle with lack of flexibility, pessimism, and perfectionism. The ideal activities for these kids include tasks with specific directions that allow them to “show what they know” through charts, graphs, and fact sheets. Bill Gates fits this profile, and apparently has an exceptionally neat, uncluttered desk.
  • Learned experts are thinkers and logicians who operate in an abstract sequential fashion. They love to strategize, debate, discuss, read, and solve puzzles, and prefer days when life is somewhat predictable but there is plenty of time for diving deep into a topic. They thrive on intellectual stimulation with smart people, but may struggle with arrogance, sarcasm, and/or an overly argumentative nature. The ideal activities for these kids include research projects and being able to present their ideas through reports, editorials, debates, or political cartoons. Al Gore fits this profile, and apparently has a sprawling, jam-packed workspace with numerous paper piles and devices all over the place.
  • Creative problem solvers are inventors, adventurers, and risk takers. They likes to do things their own way, and a good day consists of having fun and not being constrained. They thrive on competition, risk, challenge, and choice, but may struggle with lack of ability to follow directions, not paying sufficient attention to details, overly high energy, and/or too much focus on thrill seeking. The ideal activities for these kids involve designing and creating something to show their knowledge in an open-ended way, often through multi-media platforms. They can and do work anywhere (including on the floor), and need to be able to to shift positions, take breaks, and move around. Steve Jobs was an example of a creative problem solver combined with a learned expert.
  • People persons are sensitive, emotional, and creative ambassadors and artists whose best days involve being appreciated, loved, and feeling special. They may get lonely, overly sensitive, and dramatic, work too hard to fit in, and have a tendency to be scattered and lose things. However, they make awesome leaders given how much they care about, understand, and can connect with others. The ideal activities for these kids are creative and artistic, feel personally relevant, and allow for small group or partner work. Their ideal work space is unique to them, while allowing them to be in earshot of family members. Bill Clinton is an example of a people person.

Wow – these personality profiles are an incredibly useful way to think about the strengths and differences among us. I consider myself primarily a “learned expert” (this blog probably gives ample evidence of that!) but I’m also a “people person” given that I love teaching, coaching, and getting to know interesting new people. Thankfully, I can also easily slip into being a “practical manager” as needed, though I find it exceedingly annoying that I’m the only one in my household who seems to have facility with this, since it’s tiring to manage everything – especially when I’d rather be off learning something new or making connections with others.

My husband and 12-year-old daughter C. are primarily “creative problem solvers” who routinely get lost in fantasy and exploration and don’t care if they’re surrounded by clutter; both are also “people persons” who care a lot about making connections in between their creative problem solving. My 11-year-old son D. is primarily a “learned expert” who LOVES lists, facts, and predictability, but he has plenty of “creative problem solver” in him as well. My 8-year-old daughter I. is primarily a “people person” with a passion for art, big emotions, a strong desire to connect, and a preference for working with others whenever possible, but also exhibits plenty of “creative problem solver” in her need to have flexibility and express her unique flair.

So – we’re a mixed household with diverse needs and preferences.

This blog post is beyond long enough, so I’ll end it here. I’m grateful to have so much new and interesting information to chew on (the learned expert in me is in heaven) – and I hope you’ve gained some new areas for exploration, too.

Happy learning!

Copyright © 2021 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

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Boost in the Arm: SENG Spring Mini-Conference Take-Aways (Part 1)

During this period of spring bloom, mass vaccinations, and glimmers of hope for a more healthful year ahead, it was refreshing to take time to attend five of SENG’s Spring Mini Conference sessions last weekend.

SENG always gathers an exciting and impressive roster of experts across diverse fields related to gifted and 2E learners. Here are the sessions I managed to watch live (I will catch up on and report on the others once recordings are available):

  1. “Culturally Responsive Teaching in Gifted Education: Building Cultural Competence and Serving Diverse Populations” (Matthew Fugate, Wendy Behrens, Joy Lawson Davis, and Cecilia Boswell)
  2. “Being Bright, Talented, and Black in Today’s Schools” (Joy Lawson Davis, Adrienne Paul, and Theresa Newsom)
  3. “Where Do I Belong? A Tale of Identity and Reality” (Alonso Kelly)
  4. “Perfectionism: How to Stop Moving the Goalpost” (Matt Zakreski)
  5. “Exhausted: Energy and Wellness for the Twice-Exceptional Learner” (Marlo Payne Thurman)

The first two sessions listed above relate to the pressing issue of ensuring that gifted programs and services are equitably serving students across diverse cultural populations. To that end, Dr. Fugate and his colleagues have edited a much-needed book on culturally responsive teaching for gifted students (with the same title as their presentation), to be published by Prufrock Press in June. I’ll be reading this and reporting back with a Book Reflection blog post once it’s released. 

Meanwhile, the gifted community has been fortunate to tap into the extensive expertise of Dr. Joy Lawson Davis, one of the leading names in research on gifted education for diverse student populations, and a recent (2019) recipient of a Lifetime Achievement Award from SENG. Davis is the author of Bright, Talented, & Black: A Guide for Families of African American Gifted Learners (2010) and Gifted Children of Color Around the World: Diverse Needs, Exemplary Practices and Directions for the Future (2016). At this spring’s mini-conference, Dr. Davis presented with her daughter Adrienne Paul (a K-12 educator) and colleague Dr.  Theresa Newsom on supporting students who are bright, talented, and Black (BTB).  Topics covered in their session included the following:

  • Systemic issues impacting BTB students’ success in school: Black students are under-represented in gifted programs, over-represented in Special Education, and disproportionately impacted by biased disciplinary practices and policies in school. They are still most likely to be taught by white females, thus perpetuating a “cultural mismatch”.
  • The unique psychosocial challenges of being BTB: BTB students often face numerous additional challenges in school, which include overcoming damaging stereotypes, having their abilities repeatedly underestimated, and being considered defiant for engaging in self-advocacy (which may include needing to find teachers who they can trust to nurture their gifts).
  • Meeting BTB students’ curriculum and instruction needs: In addition to considering elements of culturally responsive teaching more broadly, the panelists discussed A.W. Boykin’s (1992) 9 Dimensions of an Afro-Cultural ethos,  which all teachers of BTB students should be familiar with: spirituality, harmony, movement, verve, affect, communication, expressive individualism, oral traditions, and a social time perspective.
  • Nurturing the math talent of BTB students: Some specific strategies named in this section include ensuring teachers know and understand Black students’ previous experiences with and thoughts on math; using a problem-based curriculum; highlighting Black mathematicians (past and current); and allowing individual verbal sense-making for validation.
  • Improving relationships with BTB students: These ideas include engaging with extended family and community members; having students share their cultural autobiographies; and providing safe affinity discussion spaces for sensitive conversations.

Related to the topic of BTB, Alonso Kelly – a SENG Board Member and a Strategic Leadership Partner and Executive Coach – gave a presentation entitled “Where Do I Belong? A Tale of Identity and Reality” which offered a welcome dive into his life as a gifted Black male in America. Alonso gave audience members an opportunity to reflect on the following scenarios (among others), emphasizing our need to expand our empathy and understanding for where others are coming from:

  • How would it feel to play Monopoly hundreds of times and never earn money or be able to buy property – then be asked what you think of the game?
  • If a public park posts a sign saying that no trash cans are provided and all trash must be personally carried out, whose fault is it when/if the ground is littered with trash? Does your perspective shift if you reflect on families who don’t read English, and/or those who didn’t arrive at the park in a personal vehicle?

Alonso highlighted key components of nurturing a psychologically safe space for challenging conversations (through accountability, courage, humility, and empowerment) and talked about thriving at the intersection of lived experience, learned experience, formal education, and emotional intelligence. By repeatedly referring to the SENG community as his “family”, he reminded us that connecting with others who “get” our giftedness can be an essential grounding tool as we navigate our way through the often complicated and challenging landscape of finding our path in life.

Dr. Matt Zakreski – who discussed nurturing creativity at last fall’s SENG mini-conference – gave a presentation entitled “Perfectionism: How to Stop Moving the Goalpost,” about the pitfalls of perfectionism and how to manage this oft-present characteristic of gifted individuals.  He proposed a distinction (actually a continuum) between healthy perfectionism – in which individuals challenge themselves and learn from failure – and maladaptive perfectionism (in which individuals set unrealistic goals, become obsessed, and/or avoid activities altogether).

One of his key take-aways was that “people who avoid failure also avoid success” – so, we need to support gifted kids in learning that failing is inevitable, and that to F.A.I.L. is to engage in “frequent attempts in learning”. The remainder of Matt’s presentation focused on specific therapeutic strategies to help kids address their maladaptive perfectionism, including Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP), and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, as well as specific things parents can do to support their kids, such as:

  • understanding that perfectionism isn’t rational and therefore is not easy to “just stop”;
  • being proactive and helping your kids plan ahead;
  • modeling emotion-focused language;
  • encouraging breaks;
  • encouraging empathy-based perspective taking;
  • not trying to “solve the problem” for your child; and
  • communicating with a child’s teacher and school.

[Speaking of perfectionism, at some point I will be sharing my thoughts on Lisa Van Gemert‘s book Perfectionism: A Practical Guide to Managing ‘Never Good Enough’ (2018), which offers additional invaluable guidance on this topic.]

Finally, Dr. Marlo Payne Thurman‘s presentation – entitled “Exhausted: Energy and Wellness for the Twice-Exceptional Learner” – was a no-brainer must-watch for me (and I didn’t think twice about the fact that I was starting to feel a little fatigued while watching it!). Marlo candidly discussed a traumatic brain injury she experienced years ago which kicked her own twice-exceptionality into gear, and made frequent connections between her own attempts to understand how her brain had changed to strategies we can use to help our kids “triage” their limited energy.

Marlo defined energy as finite slices of a pie, comprised of cognitive, emotional, and physical energy as well as a “reserve”, and pointed out that we can’t simply borrow from one source to fuel another. She reminded us that “the amount of cognitive capacity an individual has dictates the amount of sensory information that they can effectively take in,” and that “gifted individuals take in more sensory information and use more energy to process sensory input.” This simple equation was potent validation that there’s a reason (actually, many reasons) why gifted folks so often feel exhausted – including sheer sensory overwhelm (and/or under-aroused sensory seeking).

Marlo talked us through how fatigue can lead to “adrenal” activation – which leads to heightened sensory sensitivity, which leads to increased energy consumption and thus increased fatigue. BAM. There you have it. The vicious cycle of fatigue is real.

In her firehose of a presentation, Marlo presented much more information on her topic – including how to activate our reserve energy, the role our gut plays in health, and the downward spiral of stress leading from seemingly innocuous feelings like boredom and pessimism, to fear, depression, insecurity, and feelings of unworthiness and powerlessness.

The question is, what to do about all this? Marlo recommended getting a comprehensive assessment for our twice-exceptional kids – not just academically, but in terms of ocular and visual-motor skills, auditory processing, learning styles and strengths, language and communication skills, memory and sequencing, executive functioning, sensory preferences, and overall wellness, social skills, and behavior.

Whew! Listening to Marlo speak on these topics reminded me of my own first dive into the world of twice-exceptionality, when my to-do list for trying to understand the complexities of my three diverse kids (not to mention myself) felt endless.

Marlo ended her presentation with a series of “best tips” for parents:

  • Assess the level of stress
  • Teach breath control
  • Monitor and track sleep
  • Support nutritional needs
  • Find a bio-medical physician
  • Establish a sensory diet
  • Get a good assessment

Again, this is a lot – but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my journey into the vast world of giftedness and twice-exceptionality, it’s that patience is required.

As I’ve noted before, parenting is a marathon, not a sprint – so it’s critical for parents to honor that reality, pace ourselves, and celebrate small steps forward. However imperfect and incremental our interventions may be, we can gradually build individualized support systems for our kids that will allow them each to thrive in their own way. And yes, it’s fatiguing work – but well worth it.

Copyright © 2021 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.  

 

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Book Reflections #7: Exceptional Talent

So much has been going on with pandemic parenting these days that I haven’t spent as much time exploring giftedness in adults – with one exception: reading Frans Corten’s delightful book Exceptional Talent: A Guide for the Gifted, The Inventors, and Other Birds of a Rare Feather (2021), recently translated into English from Dutch.*

Corten opens his book with the following quote:

“If you stick a bird in a cage, flying will become a disorder instead of a talent.”

This reminds me of the following oft-used cartoon in educational circles:

The Education System: “Now Climb That Tree” | The Marquette Educator

By “birds of a rare feather”, Corten is referring to people with exceptional talents – i.e.,  rainforest minded people, or gifted adults. Corten has spent years coaching such individuals, and shares his many insights and experiences in this beautifully illustrated text, clearly made with aesthetic appeal in mind.

Artwork from Exceptional Talent, p. 64

Corten open his book in Chapter 1 by explaining “Why This Guide?” (“to help exceptional talents find their way in their lives and work”), and sharing his own story with giftedness.

In Chapter 2 (“Exceptional Talent Does Not Flourish Of Its Own Accord”), Corten offers a valuable reminder of the reasons why gifted individuals almost always require additional support to thrive, despite widespread assumptions that “high intelligence in itself will make sure that the person finds their niche” (p. 14). On the contrary, Corten estimates that “the percentage of gifted people who are mental healthcare clients, who live on benefits or are homeless is substantially higher than the percentage in society” (p. 15) – a statistic I personally don’t doubt for a moment.

[As a brief side note, I grew up in a fringe spiritual group in which nearly all the adult members were likely gifted to some extent – and many did indeed struggle with mental health concerns, career issues, and/or ongoing financial or housing instability. In another post, I plan to write in more detail about the intriguing correlations I see between giftedness, spirituality, and life challenges.]  

Back to Corten’s book, he acknowledges that “exceptional talents have too few role models as examples” given that “the usual career pathways and tests don’t always work well” – something I’ve most definitely found to be true for myself, as well as for plenty of the rainforest-minded graduate students I’ve mentored over the years.

In Chapter 3, Corten concedes, “I can’t offer you a scientific definition of an exceptional talent. The essence is that your talent really belongs to the exceptions, leaving you to discover many things for yourself” (p. 18). He offers a useful chart on page 18 of how individuals with exceptional talent may perceive situations in their workplace, versus how their employers view them. To provide just a couple of examples:

  1. A workplace might feel that an employee has “many conflicts with management and authorities”, while the individual believes about herself, “I have a strongly developed sense of justice”.
  2. A workplace might characterize an employee as having “poor timing, in meetings for example” while the individual feels, “I’m constantly meeting resistance; it all goes so slowly.”

This chart reminds me of the ones provided by Mary-Elaine Jacobsen in her book The Gifted Adult (1999), in which she represents the two extremes (“collapsed” and “exaggerated”) of intensity, complexity, and drive as manifested in a variety of ways, while also providing a more “balanced” ideal for each. The ultimate goal of both authors is to encourage flourishing.

Corten points out that very often the “high flyers” of large organizations are flourishing; his book is not designed for them, but rather for those who exhibit the “typical characteristics” of exceptional talent:

  • heightened powers of observation
  • vulnerability
  • combinations of talents
  • uniquely innovative
  • a tendency to “think and speak too fast for other people to keep up, often without knowing” (p. 22).

He follows up on these ideas in Chapter 4 (entitled “A Large Gap”) by noting, “The essence of being exceptional is that you deviate greatly from the average” (p. 23). He reminds readers that it’s important not to assume “that people are deliberately thwarting you” but instead to keep in mind that most “people can’t see what you see, can’t easily make the connections you make, can’t think through the consequences of a decision as far ahead. You just go far too fast.”

This echoes the advice in Jim Webb’s book Searching for Meaning (2015), in which he writes: “Once you stop denying the differences that exist between yourself and others, you can appreciate your abilities. You also may find that you appreciate the uniqueness of others.” (p. 119).

I’m also reminded of the Giftedness Knows No Boundaries public awareness campaign put forth by the National Association for Gifted Children (NAGC) in 2016, which emphasizes the key phrases “See Me, Know Me, Challenge Me, Teach Me”.  In order to meet the needs of gifted individuals of all ages, we must first see them – but a key difference is that with children, the onus and moral responsibility for this lies on the adults around them,  whereas gifted adults must learn to advocate for themselves. This is tricky business – especially for those who weren’t adequately supported in their younger years.

In Chapter 5, Corten advises us not to adapt, but rather to adjust, and reminds us once again that “the first step is realising that most other people don’t see” your exceptional talent, given that they “come from another world in terms of thinking and doing and that’s just how it is” (p. 35).

Corten recommends the following strategies: looking for soulmates; opening up; using expressive language; finding your way around social media; learning to ‘mix and match’; appreciating what you get; taking your feelings seriously; speaking in the first person; making your needs the starting point; being okay with mistakes; considering the correlation (if any) between money and worth; and creating “space and peace” for yourself.

There is a lot covered in this chapter, and it’s worth reading closely while taking notes. I personally have found solace in many of the ideas here, and also recognize a number of them from other readings I’ve done. For instance, the notion of learning to “mix and match” to create a fulfilling and viable career is discussed in Emilie Wapnick’s How To Be Everything: A Guide For Those Who (Still) Don’t Know What They Want to Be When They Grow Up (2017), and is a direction I’ve ended up following for myself.

Meanwhile, making peace with – i.e., “finding your way around” – social media is invaluable advice; I was relieved to read Corten’s statement that he often hears his clients saying “I’m not interested in social media.” (Hear, hear!) And yet, as he points out, ignoring it completely comes at its own cost on numerous fronts. 

One more idea that stood out to me from Chapter 5 is Corten’s advice to “only commit yourself to matters which either bother you or from which you benefit” (p. 43). This directly addresses the challenge so many gifted individuals face in terms of genuine overwhelm by the countless injustices in the world, and how impossible it is to sufficiently address everything. You can’t. You must pick and choose, as Corten advises – and his metric makes sense as a way to realistically and meaningfully narrow down your scope. 

In Chapter 6 (“Your Career Path: Listening As You Go”), Corten draws upon his decades of experience as a career coach to offer “essentials for a gifted career”, which include responding to and reflecting upon the following four prompts:

  1. What is it I want?
  2. How do I truly make contact?
  3. What do I have to offer?
  4. What do I need?

Clearly, each of these questions is huge, and ideally would be done with support from a suitable counselor or coach. Corten discusses the critical concept of discovering your “core talents”, as well as the need to clearly distinguish between “burn out” and “bore out” in one’s workplace (pp. 52-54).  The list of examples provided on page 54 is an invaluable resource for those wanting insight into the unique challenges they’re facing at work – though it’s good to keep in mind, as Corten points out, that “something which forms a burn-out risk for one person may be an essential condition for achieving pleasure at work for another.”

One more key take-away from Chapter 6 is the permission Corten gives for us to “learn to carefully sense which moments or hours in the day are suited to which tasks, and act on that” (p. 58). His advice is: “Respond to your own rhythm and make things as easy as possible for yourself.” While I’ve actually been doing this for years, I’ve simultaneously felt residual guilt from a lifetime of earlier institutionalized indoctrination that humans must follow the timelines and rhythms set forth by “those in charge”. Not necessarily true by a long stretch – and certainly not the healthiest way to live, if you can help it.

In Chapter 7, Corten turns to more “Direction and Guidance”. He reassures us that “when gifted people and other exceptional talents find a trajectory that suits them, their personal and professional development can suddenly go really fast” (though he provides fair warning: finding that one “small thing” to pursue can take awhile). He advocates being open to the idea of a “higher self” in whatever fashion that takes, and finding a “balance between challenge and safety”, which he believes is “key to a successful approach”.

Corten concludes his book in Chapter 8 by offering five portraits of individuals he’s worked with over the years (two female and three male, ages ranging from 43 to 62 – thus all in either the Exploring or Navigating stages of their life, according to Fiedler [2015]). I saw much of myself and others I know in these portraits, and found myself highlighting certain quotes that specifically stood out to me, which I’ll share below:

  • Jantien (age 52): “I always wanted to work in a broader perspective and with strategic issues, but logically speaking that’s often not possible at a young age” (p. 74). Yes, exactly. I, too, have always wanted to skip straight to the interesting and complex challenges of life – whereas in reality, we can’t do everything at once, and must accept that some stages are indeed both linear and necessary. Later, Jantien adds, “The internet has helped me enormously. I can go to it with everything that’s happening in my head” (p. 76). What a wonderful way to put it! Despite the many challenges the internet has brought, I’m ultimately a huge fan – it’s been a true game-changer on so many levels.
  • Gustave (age 50) writes, “If I immerse myself in a subject, I keep going and associate everything with everything else until I understand the system behind it. That takes a lot of time, but not much effort” (p. 87). Here’s to the value of enjoyably immersive deep dives for gifted adults! Meanwhile, echoing my rainforest-minded husband, Gustave also writes, “I can apparently reach a level of knowledge which equals that of experts in associated subjects” (p. 88); this has happened repeatedly to my husband, who is often mistaken for a professional in areas which he simply has a (gifted) layperson’s interest in.
  • Irani (age 43) shares about her hypersensitivity (yep) and her desire to do “everything at once” (yep), while telling us that her clients “often say that they love the fact that I don’t judge. I do, by the way, but I can also quickly let go of such a judgment. My attitude in life is that I take things as they are” (p. 95). I respect and relate to this pragmatic approach to life, which is my preferred m.o. as well.
  • Finally, Willibrord (age 62) – a choir conductor and composer among numerous other skills and responsibilities – writes that, “As far as I’m concerned, God is in people. I see God as a kind of language, or platform for communication for all those subjects we do not understand or are unable to explain, and which matter in life. We started calling that God and that makes it possible to talk about them” (pp. 101-102). This perspective echoes that made by Corten in Chapter 7, and rings very true as a creative conceptualization of “why God exists”.

I strongly recommend Corten’s book to “birds of a rare feather” seeking affirmation and advice as they explore what their next steps may be, career-wise. It’s a valuable addition to the far-too-limited literature on conditions necessary for gifted adults to thrive – and as Corten writes, “All of society will benefit if we learn to interact better with exceptional talents” (p. 10).

To purchase a copy of this book, go to: www.exceptionaltalent.eu

Please note that shipping to the United States currently takes about six weeks from the Netherlands. 

Artwork from Exceptional Talent, p. 49

References

  • Corten, F. (2021). Exceptional talent: A guide for the gifted, the inventors and other birds of a rare feather. Werk en Waarde.
  • Jacobsen, M-E. (1999). The gifted adult: A revolutionary guide for liberating everyday genius. Random House Publishing.
  • Wapnick, E. (2017) How to be everything: A guide for those who (still) don’t know what they want to be when they grow up. HarperOne.
  • Webb, J.T. (2015). Searching for meaning: Idealism, bright minds, disillusionment, and hope. Great Potential Press.

NB 

* On the copyright page of his book, Corten writes:

Dear Publisher,

I published this first edition independently so that the world could see it. I’m now looking for a publisher who is willing to distribute a second edition worldwide. If you are interested, or know someone who might be, please get in touch with me.

Thank you, Frans Corten

publisher@exceptionaltalent.eu

Copyright © 2021 by HalfoftheTruth.org. Please feel free to share with attribution.