Have you ever tried reasoning with a Vulcan?

There are many types of people in this world. Some are kind, and some are smart, and some are expressive, and some are quiet, and some are outgoing, and some are rough around the edges, and some are downright literal. They seem like they’re being rude or snarky, but really, they are being 100% factual and literal. Their version of common sense differs from most because to them, it must compute to their own understanding. For example, a literal person will ask you what time it is, and the majority of the populus will reply an answer that is rounded up or down such as 6:00. But to the literal person, they do not want to know the approximate time. They will look at a clock and say, “No, it is actually 5:57.”

Factual people tend to be drawn towards math or science because those subjects revolve around the facts and absolutes. People who enjoy fantasy of the written word and what it means and interpretation, well, those types like English or Literature. These people do not communicate on the same plane of existence. They can both be saying the exact same thing, but when the English mind says something to the factual mind, it is being heard by completely different ears. Vulcan ears. Pointy, literal, factual, incomputable Vulcan ears.

My middle child is definitely a Vulcan. He cannot compute a world where he is forced to endure such things as complying with a social norm simply because everyone else is. In his mind, he is an avid reader and could tell you anything you want to know about the subject matter at hand (especially if it is something that interests him). But it is unnecessary for him to have to write it out. It does not compute. To him it is unneccessary. Instead, he choses to NOT do the work at all, and has no guilt about that decision. Because this makes sense to him. 

To his mother, however, this is cause for epic concern and distress. This results in numerous emails to and from the teacher trying to come up with a course of action so that this miniature intelligent human being, who is making stupid choices, can pass his 6^th grade Honors Classes. So, English teacher and English-minded mother come up with a plan to get this student back on track. The teacher and I exchange jokes about how frustrating it is, and at least have each other to lean on for support.

Fast forward to last week. My son tells me that he has the missing packets he needs to do but, “the teacher never gave me the book” to complete them. So I think fine. I email the teacher who first laughs at the idea, and then informs me that the books are readily available for the students, and many students take them as needed, and that it is common practice for the class to take a book on a daily basis. Frustration level: Code Red. The teacher and I continue to come up with a game plan, which includes letting my son know that we’re on to him.

 Then I get an email from the teacher:

“Should have been a fly on the wall when I walked into his fifth period (I have prep) and handed him the book AND took away his Mtn. Dew hat which was on, backwards, and what we told our son “looks like a thug look”. There is a sub in that room and he was trying to get away with it--Miss Cox is worse than I am about sticking to the rules…he knows that. The hat is in my locked closet, where it will stay until June, unless you pick it up or write me a note to have it returned.”

I tell the teacher that I will not write a note to her unless he actually shows some promise in trying to get the past due work done. Naturally, Mr. Logical doesn’t seem to understand this idea. Ideas and concepts are lost on him. He lives in the here and now. Naturally, when I got home, he on his bed doing homework, but ina  VERY bad mood. His bed is his place of solitude. He refused to speak with me.

Then, we had dinner without incident, but at bed time, he is fuming angry, his face is red and tears are streaking down his face. Admittedly, I have long since forgotten about the hat incident and am just ready for bed. But, there he sits, hot tears running down his face, eyes focused and staring forward, lips closed very tightly and arms folded over his chest. Now begins the 20 questions process: What’s wrong? Son, why are you upset? Are you hurt? Are you mad? (I get a slight nod of yes).

I tell him I cannot help him if he doesn’t tell me what’s wrong or speak to me. Who are you mad at? Are you mad at your siblings? Did they do something to upset you? Did they break something? (Slight shake of the head, no.) Are you mad at me? (One nod downward for yes.) Why are you mad at me? What did I do?

I realize now that he’s not answering questions other than the yes or no options, even though they are barely visible movements on his part. So I finally ask the question, “Is this about the hat?” Finally a real nod. All of this is because of his hat. Because, in his mind, what does his hat and homework have in common? Nothing! They are not connected and having the hat taken away is irrelevant to his learning. How dare we! So I tell him, “Son, I didn’t get your hat taken away from you.”

Finally, words, “You made it worse!” Ok, so maybe he’s got a little of my dramatics in him. But still, he genuinely believes that because I did not email the teacher immediately to ask her to return his hat, that I am now a conspirator to the hat hostage situation. Guilt by association. And still, he’s basically refusing to speak to me. So I have to lecture him about how every action has consequences and he did the wrong thing, therefore he has a consequence, blah, blah, blah.

But finally, a tiny ray of information comes out that Ms. Jehns (unrelated to this story) allows them to wear hats in class. Mind you, he was NOT in Ms. Jehn’s class, but remember, and according to logic, what possible reason could any teacher have for not allowing this? I tell him that it is rude and disrespectful if he knows the rules that teachers have and then choses to disrespect them. He says that the teacher in question should not have taken his hat away because it wasn’t her class. I see where he’s coming from, but he’s focusing on the wrong problem.

So I tell him, “If I’m speeding down the road, and a cop pulls me over, I have no right to be mad at the cop. I was speeding. I broke the law. It’s his job to enforcet the laws and keep people safe. Regardless of why I was speeding, I broke the law. Even if I had a good reason.” I told him also that the only law he has to follow is to try his hardest and actually do his work. It seems so simple to me. But that’s the problem with communication and understanding: perception.

So, after much toil and trouble, we discover that he reports to be struggling in the class. It’s the writing. I love writing assignments. To him, they are tortuous and unnecessary. So I ask him if he read the book and he says that he has read it three times. Wait. What? THREE times? WHY? His answer, “Because the rest of the class is too slow.” I bursted out into laughter. He is staring at me with a confused look on his face. I explain to him that, at this point, he should be considered an expert on the material, and possibly be able to teach the class himself.

But why hasn't he done the work, I wonder! And his logic? "I didn't lie. She didn't give me the book." My head tries very hard NOT to explode and I tell him that he didn't ask for it either. So he repeats, "She didn't give it to me." So I sigh loudly and inform him that it is his responsibility to get his work done. The teacher's job is to teach and guide, not to hold his hand and do everything for him. And I mentioned that now that I know his issue is the writing, we can work on it together.
 

I know he’s having a hard time trying to rationalize why he has to do the work. I can see why it’s frustrating for teachers to tell you to read a story and then tell them about it “in your own words.” The fact minded people are thinking, “Why do I have to put it in my own words? I can receit to you exactly what it said!” They aren’t open for interpretation. They are of the belief that the author said what was meant to be said the way it was meant to be read. It’s absolute.

I am, in no way, making an excuse for my son. However, he is not hardwired to be a sheep being lead by a shepherd. His way of being does not involve tedious hours behind a desk doing repetitive work that he understood the first time he did it. It’s literally torture for him to have to sit still. Yes, he has ADHD, but not to point where he is suffering an unable to keep up with academics. His brain is moving so fast that the world just can’t simply keep up. They are stagnant and boring and he needs stimuli.

But I tell him again that accepting to fail or giving up because he is struggling is never an option. I told him that it’s ok to struggle with something but that chosing to avoid it will never work. I begged him to remember that my job is to help him succeed. It was one of those “broke through a wall” moments where I think he understood me just a little bit more and I realized where our break down started: Communication and speaking his language. He has always marched to a beat of his own drum, and that is my favorite quality about him. It’s also my least favorite, as far as finding parenting methods that work.

I went to bed feeling like I had just gone 9 rounds with George Foreman. I was exhausted. Mentally drained! It's like we're each speaking a different language when I am trying to communicate with him. He is so closed up and reserved and I am an open book. Every day I try to find a new tactic to try and understand him or make him understand me. There is no right way, I've learned. He's not broken, so I cannot fix him. He's just complicated. I have to try and pick my battles and remember that his way of doing things doesn't have to make sense to me, even if I would kill to understand it, and pray that something I'm doing or saying eventually is logical in his mind.

 Have you ever tried reasoning with a Vulcan?