A few weeks ago, my husband gently told me that his boss was having a drop-in open house, and knowing how uncomfortable these things are for me, he said that we didn't need to stay long but he felt we really needed to make an appearance. So, because I love him, I didn't follow my first panicky thought and beg him to go without me and we went, and I tried my best to put on my smile and make small talk with people I've never met before, something I really, really, really am not good at doing. Oh, how thankful I was for the kind woman there, who also didn't know many people at this particular gathering, who, whether she took pity on my discomfort or just saw me as a sympathetic ear, engaged me in conversation and kept that conversation going and seemed to enjoy carrying the burden of the conversation and drawing me in in spite of my own awkwardness. I told my husband later, nothing makes me feel quite so much like the most boring, dull person on the planet as these kinds of gatherings, where there is no structure and I don't know anyone well enough to not have my mind go completely blank. I am not good at small talk, no matter how much I try to make myself. I have to consciously remind myself not to cross my arms in self-protective posture that telegraphs discomfort and to smile and to relax. It is all I can do to not show all that on my face and try to make my brain come up with reasonably chatty things to talk about so I don't come off like a complete ninny. At least that's what the angsty agony feels like inside my head.
So, when I came across the book, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain, and I tried to remember where I heard about it and I'm not sure if maybe it was recommended on Goodreads, or a podcast, or where I saw it, but it intrigued me.
I love this book. I understand myself and my temperament and so many experiences from my past much better after reading it, and I understand my children better, too. We are a family of introverts, to one degree or another - and that is not a bad thing, not a thing that needs to be cured, contrary to the constant, and I think often unconscious and well-intentioned, messaging our culture subtly throws at us all the time. Managed, probably so when it manifests as social anxiety like I had at that gathering, learn how to appreciate the strengths and shore up the weaknesses, absolutely, but cured and changed and forced to be something we are not (an extrovert) altogether, no. I especially liked the exploration of whether innate temperament is necessarily destiny, and the investigation of how the different temperaments are wired to process new information in terms of sensitivity. I resonated with a lot of that discussion. I won't rewrite it all here, but read the book. It is fascinating.
In fact, I resonate with a whole lot of what the author explores in this book. I found myself crying in the last chapter where she discusses "How to Cultivate Quiet Kids in a World That Can't Hear Them," especially in the look at how school is overwhelmingly geared and designed for the more extroverted person and how difficult it is for the introverted to shine under that structure and how often their special and unique strengths are overlooked and overshadowed by their louder, more outgoing peers. I cried a little for how deeply I resonated with her scenarios from my own experiences, and a lot for how close to home it hits from things my own children have experienced. I am still struggling with anger towards a certain teacher my daughter had last year and how her preference for the popular, more extroverted students led to my quiet, sweet, sensitive, intelligent daughter by the end of the year describing her struggle with the class participation part of that class and through heartbroken tears describing how hard she was trying to perform to the expectations and how demoralized she felt everyday and how she hated to go to that class and telling me she hates a subject that usually is a favorite one for her. Class participation grade was more about personality than about actual contribution, and that was obvious from several examples she shared with me. I found myself wishing I could hand this book to that teacher and plead with her to read it and have compassion and understanding for students like my daughter. In that last chapter, the author gives some practical advice for parents and for educators in how to nurture both temperament types rather than defaulting to the pervasive "Extrovert Ideal" which so defines our culture. This quote, from the thoughts for teachers that she lists, "Don't think of introversion as something that needs to be cured. If an introverted child needs help with social skills, teach her or recommend training outside of class, just as you'd do for a student who needs extra attention in math or reading. But celebrate these kids for who they are," had me ready to jump out of my seat yelling, "YES!" She shared that the typical comment on report cards is how they wish the student would talk more in class, and that is so frustrating to me. They always want more, but don't recognize when that introspective, quiet kid is trying to be more, it's never good enough. You can see this is a sore spot for me. Enough on that from me. I appreciated this chapter very much, and I appreciated that the author's tone is much more positive and helpful than my little almost rant here.
And the conclusion of the book was beautifully written, also making me cry. Overall, though I may not agree with every single jot and tittle, I resonated with almost all of this book. I highly recommend it. I really wish everyone who teaches or manages or spends time with people at all would read this and understand that both extroverts AND introverts have beautiful strengths and weakness that are worth cultivating, understanding, and nurturing, not seen as a detriment to be fixed. We need each other, we need the varied ways of looking at the world. A balance of both temperaments is necessary and we need to be better at understanding each other, learning from each other, and giving each other space to be. This very positive, well-researched and wonderfully readable book is a gift, and I recommend it.
