The Left-Handed Path - Genius, Mental Illness and Social Exculsion

sin·is·ter

ˈsinistər/

adjective

adjective: sinister

Origin

late Middle English (in the sense ‘malicious, underhanded’): from Old French sinistre or Latin sinister ‘left.’

 

 

"The neuro-synaptic and neuro-chemical pathways in their brains may be different from most brains, and it maybe this contributed greatly to (their) creativity and their genius," he says.

 

 

We tend to think of genius as superior; bigger brain is synonymous with better person.  It's an unfortunate misconception, because really, being "smart" is more like being tall, or obese in that it's exclusionary.

 

Tall people have a hard time on transit, buying clothes, etc.  They face additional health risks, too.  At the same time, there's a great deal of invisible social exclusion that happens for giants, be they tall, or obese, or genius.  We get annoyed at fat people spilling into two seats on the subway; we get equally annoyed at lateral thinkers for jumping gears in conversation.

 

Creativity and intelligence aren't "gifts" handed to a select few by the gods; they are a product of biology and environment.  In all cases, they can be stifled or promoted, much as poor diet can impact one's growth both in terms of height and in weight, though it's not so easy for a tall person to exercise off those extra inches.

 

Yet we insist upon the gift label for genius, partially, subconsciously, because it absolves us of the need to compete on par with geniuses.  They were given something, they have an unfair advantage, we needn't feel inferior for that reason.

 

As a result, the genius is seen as something in addition to the person, like something superimposed; a genius can be expected to be different, but should have no problem acting like a normal person around normal people.  When they don't, we start to lean on another label - mental illness.

 

After all, if they're different and not in a way that's conducive to social interaction, their must be something wrong with them, right?

 

Now place yourself in the head of a lateral thinker, being themselves, communicating the world as they experience it only to be rebuffed, or laughed at (like Robin Williams) or simply not understood.  The equivalency is being a foreigner in one's own country, speaking a language others can't understand but, equally, not quite connecting with what other people are saying as well. 

 

Or better yet, picture being a lefty in a right-handed world, given extraordinary expectations, expected to succeed with standard tools and being disparaged for failing.

 

For someone like this, genius, if we brand it as such, isn't a gift - it's a curse.  What do you do when you can't communicate directly with others?

 

Maybe you write.  Maybe you perform - give people the extremes they enjoy, but without the burden of having to be part of the conversation.  Success can be found this way, even fulfilment, but if the basic one-on-one communication escapes you, it's like living life without intimacy.  Something is missed, something everyone around you seems to partake in.

 

That's exclusion, same as is felt by minorities, disabled people or, yup, the mentally ill.

 

There is a definite connection between mental illness and genius.  That's a frame most people are comfortable with.  The connection between geniuses killing themselves and their interactions with everyone else, though - that's a bit harder to digest.

 

It's easier to see them as other, either touched by gods or by the devil, than it is to accept them as different and in need of differing supports and accommodations.

 

Ultimately, though, that's what we will realize is the case.  There's nothing magic about prophets, artist or witches - and nothing sinister, either.