It took several readings about masking before I began noticing how often someone says something that shows they Don’t Get It so profoundly, I don’t know where to start. I’ve started thinking of these folks as muggles.
Some muggles are friends. While not Getting It, they like and respect us enough to keep their ears open. (These are the best people on earth, by the way.) And some friends who think they’re muggles, actually Get It. They’ve just never noticed, because they’re living it, and our tribe is our ‘normal’.
For instance, long before I heard of ‘emotional over-excitability’, I gathered people who, like me, are infuriated by injustice. We rant, rave, and are regularly moved to tears by others’ suffering, whether those ‘others’ are humans or not, whether they’re known to us or not. So many of us are so overwhelmed by anger and grief at what’s happening in the world right now – the protests; the virus; the climate – that we can barely breathe, and we forget that others don’t feel the same.
Similarly, ‘intellectual over-excitability’ explains the friends whose wide-ranging curiosity matches mine. Recently I was thrilled when approached by a new friend, a theoretical physicist (cooooool!) who also wrote a fictional, Arthurian ‘original source’. How cool is THAT?! On top of THEORETICAL PHYSICS?! I was so excited, I was running around in little circles squealing – though only in my head, obviously. Ahem. He’s gonna fit right in with the martial-artist-sword-collector-writer-of-speculative-fiction, the dude who re-enacted a Viking voyage in a genuine knarr and later wrote a history of plumbing, the mathematician-silversmith, the social justice warriors. Oh, and my husband, who after 27 years still regularly surprises me with the breadth of his knowledge.
And because these are my people, I never queried my kids’ Need To Know. It never occurred to me that it was unusual, for instance, when I shared a titbit about Richard I with my husband – who doesn’t do medieval but does military – for our then-9yo to demand a detailed explanation of the battle of Jaffa, just as he’s always demanded the background to every political or current-events comment we’ve ever made.
It never occurred to me not to answer these questions because I know all too well the mental tantrum I’d throw – the agony I’d be in – if I asked and someone didn’t answer fully. Yes, we have anxiety, and yes, knowing what’s going on out there can be awful. And of course I don’t believe my kids can handle anything and everything. But when they ask, answering isn’t just about my commitment to honesty. It’s also about respecting them as fully-fledged, albeit young, members of my tribe.
Someone called me on it, this week. She doesn’t think kids should know about current affairs, believes that parents who share such information are prioritising their values rather than their child’s (mental) health, and declared that parents aren’t experts, especially about children with ‘special considerations’ like anxiety. After closing my mouth, I bowed out of the conversation because – yeah. Muggles.
Parenting these kids – balancing their hard-wired Need To Know against their equally hard-wired anxiety, knowing that a slip either way leads invariably to late-night grief – is quite tricky enough, TYVM, without trying to explain precisely how much I’ve had to learn and how hard I work at it. I’m a long, long freaking way from being an expert on giftedness (or indeed, parenting), but I know who can help – and it ain’t gonna be muggles. It will be those who Get It, either because they’re living it, or because they trust that I am, actually, the expert on my family.
Getting It isn’t about intelligence, necessarily. It’s about listening. Others’ experience is one of the hardest things for anyone to grasp. People are complicated, contradictory, and WEIRD, and often the greatest thing we can do for someone, is simply believe that they know more about their life than we do. Get that right, and you’re on the road away from muggledom.