I was reading White Peril this morning, and he linked to an article I read a few years ago, and heartily enjoyed: Caring for Your Introvert. This piece came out when I still subscribed to the Atlantic (before I decided that I didn’t really have time to read it any more), and I remember reading it with a mix of recognition and glee. I even uncharacteristically read parts out of it out loud to my super-introvert father, who listened with a look that was half interested and half someone’s reading something to me what do I do?
Some highlights:
Remember, someone you know, respect, and interact with every day is an introvert, and you are probably driving this person nuts.
With their endless appetite for talk and attention, extroverts also dominate social life, so they tend to set expectations. In our extrovertist society, being outgoing is considered normal and therefore desirable, a mark of happiness, confidence, leadership. Extroverts are seen as bighearted, vibrant, warm, empathic. “People person” is a compliment. Introverts are described with words like “guarded,” “loner,” “reserved,” “taciturn,” “self-contained,” “private”—narrow, ungenerous words, words that suggest emotional parsimony and smallness of personality. Female introverts, I suspect, must suffer especially. In certain circles, particularly in the Midwest, a man can still sometimes get away with being what they used to call a strong and silent type; introverted women, lacking that alternative, are even more likely than men to be perceived as timid, withdrawn, haughty.
This article also contains one of my favorite alledged presidential quotations ever, from one of our more mediocre presidents, Calvin Coolidge:
As Coolidge is supposed to have said, “Don’t you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?” (He is also supposed to have said, “If you don’t say anything, you won’t be called on to repeat it.” The only thing a true introvert dislikes more than talking about himself is repeating himself.)
Anyway, you’d think academia would be a good place to be an introvert; after all, there’s a lot of reading, thinking, and silent research. But it really isn’t. There’s a lot of discussion involved. There’s a lot of importance placed on “face time”: talking to your advisor, going to presentations, talks, lectures, etc. Alongside of this is the assumption that socializing is good, and that everyone loves to spend lots of time talking to the people within one’s own department. Although I can get with the program up to a point, after a while, it seems sort of overwhelming. Sometimes, it’s hard to be left alone.
New boots. New pajamas. All of which add up to a lot of eating at home planned for this week.
