The benefits of ADHD are well-documented, and some people, like me, even refer to those benefits as superpowers, as in how hyper-focus focus, resiliency, and creativity become our greatest strengths. Still, I get around to meeting with many students throughout the country and continually see among young people how they inherit the notion that having ADHD is a drawback, as if something is wrong with them.
I know this because in recent weeks I spoke to hundreds of high school students at a large public high school about mental health and finding and keeping joy, and midway through the discussion when referring to challenges I faced as a student when their age, I broke into a spontaneous, “by the way, I love ADHD, and I'm so thankful for ADHD, and don't ever let anyone tell you it's anything but a gift. Sure, a gift that requires management, but it's a gift.
“That’s why, I love ADHD. I’m thankful for ADHD.”
The students cheered and smiled broadly, approving of the message they no doubt had not heard much before, since our generation has falsely told their generation it’s a negative.
It's that way at almost every school I visit, their reaction, and it's not the school's fault but something that starts at home.
We don't want our children to fail. We don't even want them to make a B these days, so if we discover before the age of 12 that they have ADHD, the tendency is to rush in with a solution, telling them the lie that says they can't focus, when they in fact likely have hyper-focus, treating it all as if they have a deadly disease when, in fact, it may be the foundation of their greatest strengths.
ADHD wasn't a thing when I was a teen. Not in the mainstream, anyway.
They just called me lazy when I struggled in class in late middle and early high school.
Nobody calls you lazy these days, but the prescriptions and labeling come quickly.
I'm all in for prescriptions for students with significant ADHD, but I try to remind parents not to forget that we are all made and wired differently, and that begins in our brains.
Take me as an example. With personality tests, I'm a top-line strategist and also considered creative. Most of my professional success has involved creativity, in fact. The only time I failed miserably in life is when I cut that off -- with a powerful, mind-changing prescription.
Now, I have learned to embrace my differences as assets while readily acknowledging the flip side of the assets I must manage. Thus, it's more about learning management than changing my personality.
I have learned that my strengths, like most with ADHD, involve an ability to hyper-focus.
I can see projects with many layers through for years without looking away.
I'm able to hang in with resilience when pressure mounts.
I can look at creative solutions rather than get easily overwhelmed by ambiguity. I'll calculate and take a risk when required.
I'm not afraid of self-deprecation.
I feel and empathize with others.
All the same and more can be said for almost everyone who truly has ADHD. Therefore, the concept that these characteristics are harmful and that children today learn that, in many instances, making them feel less rather than more is troubling.
When I tell students I failed 10th grade English but am a writer today, a bestselling author in fact, they roar in approval. They also want to fail and learn from failure—they do.
But we don't allow them that gift.
Take a pill, we say. Alter your flawed personality, we say. To make us proud -- with all A's, maybe one B, as long as you don't get too comfortable with that B.
And that's just fine if they need it.
If.
It is. But let's make sure it's for the child's benefit since ADHD is not a bad thing. As with me, it's likely to emerge as their most incredible gift. It is best, if possible, to help them grow into it, rather than drug their essence away.
Because never doubt that they too will write books one day, or find their focused and creative best.
___________
Speaking of students, and how we help them grow, our newest episode of A Little Crazy with David Magee dropped today. It features my friend and educator Patrick Mulloy of St. Paul's School for Boys in the greater Baltimore area. Patrick is the father of two young men and head of the upper school at St. Paul's, a wonderful school that I have gotten to know well that excels in relationships and education with young men. It’s a special school, and Patrick is the type of mentor and coach to students that all deserve.
Give this episode a listen and share!
I liked the switch in perspective that this piece offers, David!