#xdf

1. Meg's academic problem

“Was it because people were a little bit afraid of him that they   whispered about the Murry’s youngest child, who was rumored to be not   quite bright? “I’ve heard that clever people often have subnormal   children,” Meg had once overheard. “The two boys seem to be nice,   regular children, but that unattractive girl and the baby boy certainly aren’t all there.”

This is how we meet her, on the second page of my copy.

“...—It’s not just the weather,” she thought. It’s the weather on top of everything else. On top  of me. On top of Meg Murry doing everything wrong. School. School was all wrong. She’d been dropped to the lowest section in her grade. That morning one of her teachers had said crossly, “Really, Meg, I don’t understand how a child with parents as brilliant as yours are supposed to be can be such a poor student. If you don’t manage to do a little better you’ll have to stay back next year.” During lunch she’d rough-housed a little to try to make herself feel better, and one of the girls said scornfully, “After all, Meg, we aren’t grammar-school kids any more. Why do you always act like such a baby?” And on the way home from school, walking up the road with her arms full of books, one of the boys had said something about her “dumb baby brother.” At this she’d thrown the books on the side of the road and tackled him with every ounce of strength she had, and arrived home with her blouse torn and a big bruise under one eye.

So here we have Meg in school, under-performing, scorned by her peers for being immature, and jumping immediately at a sleight against her brother with no thought for consequences (note: more than one boy, and it later says that they’re in a grade above her. She immediately drops all of her things to tackle them).

She checks a lot of stereotype boxes from the get-go, but there’s a lot of subtler things that hold true throughout Wrinkle. Let’s start with academic performance, because there’s a lot of ADHD ringers, and some near textbook “twice-exceptional” stuff. 

At school Meg was tired and her eyelids sagged and her mind wandered. In social studies she was asked to name the principal imports and exports of Nicaragua, and though she had looked them up dutifully the evening before, now she could remember none of them. The teacher was sarcastic, the rest of the class laughed, and she flung herself down in her seat in a fury. "Who cares about the imports and exports of Nicaragua, anyhow?" she muttered. “If you're going to be rude, Margaret, you may leave the room," the teacher said. “Okay, I will." Meg flounced out.

So Meg’s tired here from Ms Whatsit’s visit, but I’m including it because while it may have extraordinary circumstances, it’s not uncharacteristic going off of the breakfast table conversation:

“We know you have a great mind and all, Mother: Sandy said, "but you  don't have much sense. And certainly, Meg and Charles don't." "I know. We're morons." Meg was bitter. "I wish you wouldn't be such a dope, Meg. Syrup, please." Sandy reached across the table. "You  don't have to take everything so personally. Use a happy medium, for  heaven's sake. You just goof around in school and look out the window  and don't pay any attention. "You just make things harder for yourself," Dennys said. "And  Charles Wallace is going to have an awful time next year when he starts  school. We know he's bright, but he's so funny when he's around other  people, and they're so used to thinking he's dumb, I don't know what's  going to happen to him. Sandy and I'll sock anybody who picks on him, but that's about all we can do." "Let's not worry about next year till we get through this one,” Mrs. Murry said.

Yikes. A lot going on here from Sandy and Dennys, but we’re going to focus on Meg’s performance (and note that school = violence, both for Meg and Charles Wallace). Note: reputation for being unfocused, goofing off, not paying attention.

Then, we learn a little more about her:

“...I don’t want him to grow up to be dumb like me,” Meg had said. “Oh my darling, you’re not dumb,” her father answered. “You’re like Charles Walllace. Your development has to go at its own pace. It just doesn’t happen to be the usual pace.” “How do you know?” Meg had demanded. “How do you know I’m not dumb? Isn’t it just because you love me?” “I love you, but that’s not what tells me. Mother and I’ve given you a number of tests, you know.” Yes, that was true. Meg had realized that some of the “games” her parents played with her were tests of some kind and that there had been more for her and Charles Wallace than for the twins.

Fun fact: These are the exact same euphemisms about pace and uneven development that my parents and teachers used with me. (hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD. Just the “giftedness.” lots of fun puzzle-tests that felt like games. Also I had no recess friends. thank you, 1st-4th grade)

But my personal experience aside, uneven development is definitionally part of ADHD. It’s a neurodevelopmental disorder, which means it affects the way your brain develops, and it goes at a different rate than your peers. That’s intertwined with the social struggles many of us have. Meg is quite “smart” but in many ways socially “immature.” For me, it was easier being with younger kids, or else being a fly on the wall for (nice) adults than it was being with peers because I just couldn’t match their ways.

2. “Twice exceptional” (sarcastic scare quotes)

“Twice exceptional” is a term I’ve seen used for students with a neurodevelopmental or learning disability who are also “gifted.” I’m not going to unpack ‘gifted,’ but suffice to say, gifted kids with ADHD can end up with one thing cancelling out the other—they get regular grades, but only glance at the material and barely listen in class, or maybe they fail miserably despite understanding things because they forgot to turn papers in. Either way, their grades and performance aren’t matching their capabilities.

Boredom and understimulation is a huge problem for all ADHDers. School is hard enough if you’re not interested in the subject. If it’s hard, that makes school worse, because something that’s repeatedly too hard without proper support can generate anxiety, frustration, and shame. But you know what can also makes things worse? Teachers assuming schoolwork is too hard for you when it’s actually too easy. Then, you get even more bored, which switches the “brain shut off switch,” and you don’t do the work, so they assume it’s too hard, and that you’re not smart, rinse, repeat.

Mrs. Murry smiled. Why don't you get Meg to help you?” "But, see, I'm several grades above Meg.” "Try asking her to help you with your math, anyhow," Mrs. Murry suggested. "Well, sure,” Calvin said. "Here. But it's pretty complicated.” Meg smoothed out the paper and studied it. “Do they care how you do it?" she asked. "I mean, can you work it out your own way?" "Well, sure, as long as I understand and get the answers right." "Well, we have to do it their way. Now look, Calvin, don't you see how much easier it would be if you did it this way?"Her pencil few over the paper. "Hey!" Calvin said. "Hey! I think I get it. Show me once more on another one." Again Meg's pencil was busy. "All you have to remember is that every ordinary fraction can be converted into an infinite periodic decimal fraction. See? So 3/7 is 0.428571.” "This is the craziest family." Calvin grinned at her. "I suppose I should stop being surprised by now, but you're supposed to be dumb in school, always being called up on the carpet. "Oh, I am.” "The trouble with Meg and math," Mrs. Murry said briskly, "is that Meg and her father used to play with numbers and Meg learned far too many short cuts. So when they want her to do problems the long way around at school she gets sullen and stubborn and sets up a fine mental block for herself."

(Um, are we ever going to learn from this very track system that my grandmother criticized from her newlywed teaching days? Because labeling some kids smart and some kids not smart is just not something our ableist society can do compassionately, constructively, or accurately...

3. Academic unevenness

Then we’ve got this fabulous conversation

"Are there any more morons like Meg and Charles around?" Calvin asked. "If so, I should meet more of them. "It might also help if Meg's handwriting were legible*; Mrs. Murry said. "With a good deal of difficulty I can usually decipher it, but I doubt very much if her teachers can, or are willing to take the time. I'm planning on giving her a typewriter for Christmas. That may be a help. "If I get anything right nobody'll believe it's me," Meg said. "What's a megaparsec?" Calvin asked. '"One of Father's nicknames for me," Meg said. "It's also 3,26 million light years. "What's E =mc²?" "Einstein' equation." "What's E stand for?" "Energy.” “m?” "Mass." "c²?” "The square of the velocity of light in centimeters per second.” “By what countries is Peru bounded?” "I haven't the faintest idea. I think it's in South America somewhere.' "What's the capital of New York?" "Well, New York City, of course!" "Who wrote Boswell's Life of Johnson?" "Oh, Calvin, I'm not any good at English." Calvin groaned and turned to Mrs. Murry, "I see what you mean. Her I wouldn't want to teach." "She's a little one-sided, I grant you," Mrs. Murry said, "though I blame her father and myself for that. She still enjoys playing with her dolls house, though." "Mother!" Meg shrieked in agony. "Oh, darling, I'm sorry," Mrs. Murry said swiftly. "But I'm sure Calvin understands what I mean."

This section doesn’t directly speak to whether or not Meg can focus, but this isn’t a diagnostic manual XP. But one of the first things I realized about ADHD that helped me realize I had it was that it’s not lack of focus, but uneven focus. I sometimes feel like someone else’s got the remote to my brain, and it’s really frustrating when you think you’re an android in control of yourself. Sometimes the “things I’m interested in and can focus on” is not very useful or helpful. Sometimes it can be quite detrimental. Sometimes it’s great, and overlaps with school. So when I see Meg with this grab bag of very specific interests, blind spots over very basic facts, and “logical” guesses that are not very informed because they’re barely relevant to her, it makes me smile.

*Also, just for kicks, it’s worth noting ADHD comorbidities. For older   people getting diagnosed, depression and anxiety are pretty common, but I  also want to point out that other learning disorders like the “dys”   family (dyslexia, dysgraphia, etc) as well as sensory processing   disorders are pretty common. So it makes me smile that Meg’s handwriting  is trash. (I’m pretty sure my handwriting is trash because of the ADHD  write-fast-or-lose-it + impatience; thank goodness for flexible   professors who let me re-type timed hand-written stuff, but for LDs, it’s a commonly accommodated impairment)

Meg Murry. She’s dreadfully impatient. She has a very low tolerance for boredom, shuts down when asked to do redundant, boring things, yet when she’s into something, she’s very into it. She loves math, she loves science, and she knows a fair bit more than most people her age do about them. She’s lopsided, and it’s that unevenness that reminds me of my own ADHD.

4. Emotions

—Why can’t I hide it, too? Meg thought? Why do I always have to show everything?”

Meg’s emotionally reactive. She struggles to control her anger or fear or sadness, and often feels like they’re controlling her. Notably, others compare her to others her age to point out the inappropriateness of her own behavior (usually displays of anger or talking back/mouthing off), and she feels extremely insecure about her inability to control her feelings, though she uses her mother rather than peers as her reference point.

“Why don’t you cry?” Calvin asked gently. “You’re just crazy about your father, aren’t you. Go ahead and cry. It’ll do you good. Meg’s voice came trembling over tears. “I cry too much. I should be like Mother. I should be able to control myself.” “Your mother’s a completely different person and she’s a lot older than you are. “I wish I were a different person,” Meg said shakily. “I hate myself.”

Emotional reactivity is not unique to ADHD, but it left such a deep mark on me growing up. It was so, so frustrating to be the only one who was still crying like a toddler in middle school, high school, college, over ‘nothing.’ I personally don’t have much of a temper like Meg does, but having angry or frustrated (rather than just sad or scared meltdowns) are also pretty common for ADHDers. Note her response here:

At school Meg was tired and her eyelids sagged and her mind wandered. In social studies she was asked to name the principal imports and exports of Nicaragua, and though she had looked them up dutifully the evening before, now she could remember none of them. The teacher was sarcastic, the rest of the class laughed, and she flung herself down in her seat in a fury. "Who cares about the imports and exports of Nicaragua, anyhow?" she muttered. “If you're going to be rude, Margaret, you may leave the room," the teacher said. “Okay, I will." Meg flounced out. (this is also pretty impulsive)

Let’s return to the crummy breakfast scene from earlier:

“We know you have a great mind and all, Mother: Sandy said, "but you don't have much sense. And certainly, Meg and Charles don't." "I know. We're morons." Meg was bitter. "I wish you wouldn't be such a dope, Meg. Syrup, please." Sandy reached across the table. "You don't have to take everything so personally. Use a happy medium, for heaven's sake. You just goof around in school and look out the window and don't pay any attention. "You just make things harder for yourself," Dennys said. "And Charles Wallace is going to have an awful time next year when he starts school. We know he's bright, but he's so funny when he's around other people, and they're so used to thinking he's dumb, I don't know what's going to happen to him. Sandy and I'll sock anybody who picks on him, but that's about all we can do." "Let's not worry about next year till we get through this one,” Mrs. Murry said.

Oof. There’s not consensus about a ADHD-specific phenomenon of rejection sensitivity dysphoria, or internal system reaction going into overdrive in response in a way unique to ADHD rejection, but it is a commonly shared ADHD experience. Rejection can feel extremely painful in a way that’s disproportionate to the event. That’s why I highlighted the bit about taking things personally; it’s pretty similar to how she reacted when the class laughed at her. Again, not ADHD-unique, but definitely part of the experience.

The other thing is the victim-blaming (note how all of Meg’s problems are believed to be within Meg’s ability to control. All she has to do is discipline herself). They assume that she’s choosing to goof around, choosing to take things personally, and by association, choosing not to have sense, that she just needs to smarten up somehow and act right. They assume that Meg’s just a bundle of bad behaviors and conscious choices.

And that’s something that really, really bugs me. Some people seem to live their lives in this magical cause-and-effect world where they have near total control over their choices and I have never lived in that world. My body freezes when I’m frustrated and hot tears flood my eyes and thoughts jumble in my head and people tell me to stop being a crybaby and grow up and act my age as if I wasn’t desperately wishing I could do just that. Some days my brain turns off for hours without notice and I can barely read or process instructions or listen to words, and then pain turns on and it has no logic, and people ask me “did you drink water?” because sometimes they want to be sympathetic, but sometimes they’re also impatient, and both groups of people want to live in a world where I have migraines because I didn’t drink water, not because sometimes my brain malfunctions (and we don’t know why).

So when I read about Meg, I don’t read about someone who’s shooting herself in the foot on purpose. She’s trying, but very few people acknowledge that what she’s doing is hard, and so she almost believes that it’s not allowed to be hard. She’s not supposed to be struggling. Why can’t she be normal-ish, like her brothers, or collected, like her mom? It’s not that hard (it can’t be as hard as it feels? I’m the only problem here.)

For me, when I was diagnosed with ADHD, it was life-changing to accept that some things were out of my control, and they were harder for me for a reason, and I didn’t have to fight myself or hate that I was still failing those basic things. 

5. Some quotes on impulsivity and fidgeting

it’s late. i’m tired, this is about adhd, i want to finish this tonight and i want the gratification of publishing. don’t wanna edit. here’s this quote (when she threw everything aside to tackle this kid when he was with friends to throw down over an insult to Charles Wallace) 

“You don’t know the meaning of moderation, do you, my darling?” Mrs. Murry asked. “A happy medium is something I wonder if you’ll ever learn. That's a nasty bruise the Henderson boy gave you. By the way, shortly after you’d gone to bed his mother called up to complain about how badly you'd hurt him. I told her that since he's a year older and at least twenty-five pounds heavier than you are, I thought I was the one who ought to be doing the complaining. But she seemed to think it was all your fault. "I suppose that depends on how you look at it," Meg said."Usually no matter what happens people think it's my fault, even if I have nothing to do with it at all. But I'm sorry I tried to fight him. It's just been an awful week. And I'm full of bad feeling.

yes. they still blame her. this is pretty common for many people with adhd. i was generally a golden child and managed to get Adult attention, but i see it in my little bro all the time.

Meg twisted her pencil so hard that it broke. She laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m really not being destructive. I’m just trying to get things straight.” “I know.” “But Charles Wallace doesn’t look different from anybody else.” “No, Meg, but people are more different than just the way they look. Charles Wallace’s difference isn’t physical. It’s in essence.” Meg sighed heavily, took off her glasses and twirled them, put them back on again. “Well, I know Charles Wallace is different, and I know he’s something more. I guess I’ll just have to accept it without understanding it.” Mrs. Murry smiled at her. “Maybe that’s really the point I was trying to put across.”

also Meg does a lot of glasses-twisting and braces-baring. But to be fair, those are very touch-y objects on a sensitive place (the face)

6. Final thoughts on neurodivergence

I love and relate to Meg because she’s trying so hard to fit in and make sense of everything and none of it makes sense. Almost all of the people around her find her annoying or rude or immature or weird, but she’s just striving to figure everything out and she’s so genuine underneath it all. She genuinely cannot figure out how to do things like ordinary people seem to be able to do things, and she can’t blend in.

..."Usually no matter what happens people think it's my fault, even if I have nothing to do with it at all. But I'm sorry I tried to fight him. It's just been an awful week. And I'm full of bad feeling. Mrs. Murry stroked Meg's shaggy head. "Do you know why?" "I hate being an oddball," Meg said. "It's hard on Sandy and Dennys, too. I don't know if they're really like everybody else, or if they're just able to pretend they are. I try to pretend, but it isn't any help." "You're much too straightforward to be able to pretend to be what you aren't," Mrs. Murry said. "I'm sorry, Meglet. Maybe if Father were here he could help you, but I don't think I can do anything till you've managed to plow through some more time. Then things will be easier for you. But that isn't much help right now, is it?"

She’s snappish and jumps into fights and then she regrets it and she wants to make things better but she’s gawkish and awkward and part of it is youth, but I also wonder how much of it is her youth—being that ‘weirdo,’ specifically. I don’t think it’s a universal experience to be targeted as the one that will cry most easily. Sometimes I do wonder when I’m thinking about neurodivergence if there really is any difference between our experiences. But at the same time, I’ve only ever heard “everyone’s a little ADHD” in a way that’s meant to be inclusive but is actually dismissive of my own struggles. so... i will leave that thought hanging.

“Charles Wallace understands more than the rest of us, doesn’t her?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I suppose it’s because he’s—well, because he’s different, Meg.” “Different how?” “I’m not quite sure. You know yourself he’s not like anybody else.” “No. And I wouldn’t want him to be,” Meg said defensively. “Wanting doesn’t have anything to do with it. Charles Wallace is what he is. Different. New.” “New?” “Yes. That’s what your Father and I feel.” Meg twisted her pencil so hard that it broke. She laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m really not being destructive. I’m just trying to get things straight.” “I know.” “But Charles Wallace doesn’t look different from anybody else.” “No, Meg, but people are more different than just the way they look. Charles Wallace’s difference isn’t physical. It’s in essence.” Meg sighed heavily, took off her glasses and twirled them, put them back on again. “Well, I know Charles Wallace is different, and I know he’s something more. I guess I’ll just have to accept it without understanding it.” Mrs. Murry smiled at her. “Maybe that’s really the point I was trying to put across.”

there. that’s it. that’s the Charles Wallace Neurodivergent Anthem. Put it on a shirt, folks. 

but also, lets not forget clavin

With a sudden enthusiastic gesture Calvin flung his arms out wide, as though he were embracing Meg and her mother, the whole house. "How did all this happen? Isn't it wonderful? I feel as though I were just being born! I'm not alone any more! Do you realize what that means to me?" "But you're good at basketball and things," Meg protested. "You're good in school. Everybody likes you." "For all the most unimportant reasons," Calvin said. "There hasn't been anybody, anybody in the world I could talk to. Sure, I can function on the same level as everybody else, I can  hold myself down, but it isn't me." Meg took a batch of forks from the  drawer and turned them over and over, looking at them. "I’m all confused  again." “Oh, so ‘m I,” Calvin said gaily. But now at least I know we’re going somewhere.”

in which i wonder what is really going on with the whole neurodivergent experience, and is it just pathological? like i claim it because i have diagnosable symptioms? but really the “expeirence” is feeling super alien and like i cannot fit in with others for the LIFE of me, which is a very human experience, but maybe has a neurodivergent flavor?

i don’t really feel like calvin is exactly particularly something specific that i know of? like feels pretty normal, don’t know if he’s got anything up in the headspace. but! maybe he is. EITHER WAY. Definitely an ally.

sorry zay. this devolved. should have shelfed this. it is 1:06. anyways now you konw why i go by poly (sort of. it’s actually the ‘time quintet’ not quartet but i can’t bring myself to not detest zachary so polyhymnia’s only kairos book is not part of my canon)