Far From the Tree

"Andrew Solomon took on a mammoth task: interviewing hundreds of families over 10 years, and observing the most profound and private aspects of their lives. His descriptions and observations of the struggles, joys, tragedies and rewards of raising exceptional children are mesmerizing, heartfelt, and at times deeply troubling. I feel there are really two books here: the first being his ostensible thesis: that exceptional children form a horizontal identity with peers as opposed to a vertical identity from their parents. Stemming from an article he was writing on the Deaf community, this makes perfect sense and is not particularly revelatory.<br/><br/> There are two problems, however: in the first place ALL children form at least part of their identities horizontally, whatever their level of disability or social dysfunction. Second, not all of the populations Solomon discusses form a distinct "identity" separate from their parents. His thesis is strongest with the Deaf, LGBTQ, and Little People communities; these populations do indeed have independent cultures, folklore and in the case of the Deaf, a separate language from mainstream society. Yet some of the "exceptional" children are more closely identified with their parents than with outsiders: Russian musical prodigies appear to be a largely self perpetuating group, as are some crime families (as anyone who's ever seen <I>The Godfather</I> will know). The deeply tragic chapter on children of rape is largely a story of sexual trauma being passed down from one generaton to the next, not of independent “community identity”.<br/><br/>The larger problem with his thesis is that many of these exceptional children have no meaningful community identity at all. The profoundly disabled "pillow angels" are incapable of communication or even self awareness, and while those with schizophrenia and autism may share a mutual experience, the nature and variety of their conditions and communication styles are an inherent challenge to forming community identity.<br/><br/>No, what Solomon is really addressing is the experience of parenting a child with extraordinary challenges, not with different identities. And it is this exploration of the limits of unconditional parental love which makes the book so remarkable. Solomon upends many of our assumptions about children with disabilities, indeed whether “disability” is even a meaningful term. He chronicles an Indian community with an unusually large Deaf population where sign is a natural second language and deafness not perceived as a handicap. He examines the “neurodiversity” movement which champions the advantages to society of the highly focused, though communication challenged autistic brain. He interviews schizophrenics who treasure the voices that sing them to sleep.<br/><br/>Solomon points out an ethically challenging inconsistency: while it is “normal” for able bodied, neurotypical parents to prefer able bodied, neurotypical children, a disabled parent who chooses to have disabled children is considered a monster. Isn’t it reasonable for parents in the “Deaf of Deaf” movement to want offspring who will speak their language? Or for those with dwarfism to want their children to be the same size as their parents?<br/><br/>By forcing us to ask whether some “disabilities” are not merely “differences”, we are forced to examine the morality of eliminating such differences. Prenatal screening leading to abortion is fierecely opposed by some disability activists and equated to ethnic cleansing. Well-meaning interventions: cochlear implants for the Deaf and limb lengthening for those with dwarfism are viewed by some with the horror attendant on skin bleaching or epicanthal eye surgery. Even the Human Genome Project, with its promise of the eventual elimination of most inherited disease is deplored as cultural genocide.<br/><br/>Solomon does not completely buy into this view; he points out the extreme physical pain that can accompany dwarfism, and the psychological horrors of schizophrenia and autism. He also notes that parents who take on the full responsibility of caregiving shorten their own lives and often neglect their other children. In response to the optimistic “Welcome to Holland!” essay penned by the parent of a sweet natured child with Down syndrome, an exasperated parent of an autistic child wrote “Welcome to Beirut”. <br/><br/>The question of horizontal vs vertical identity is interesting, but it only partially overlaps with disability. Solomon could have interviewed the biracial or adopted black children of white parents to better answer that question. (His understanding of race and racial differences is disturbingly obtuse; he offers that Black people, “may be said to be disadvantaged”, many of his descriptions of nonwhite families come off as patronizing, and he makes a cringe inducing analogy comparing parenting to feeling “like Christopher Columbus landing for the first time on the wilder shores of love”. Indeed.).<br/><br/>Solomon posits that “if some glorious angel descended into my living room and offered to exchange my children for other better, children...I would clutch the ones I have, and like most parents pray away the atrocious specter”. Well maybe. I have a delightful niece with type 1 diabetes, making her part of a loud and enthusiastic horizontal community which sent her a “welcome to the family!” invitation when she was diagnosed, and annual “di-anniversary “ celebratory cards. While my brother and sister-in-law would never be willing to give up their daughter, they would be happy for her to be a healthier daughter, one who is not rushed to the hospital every time her insulin pump fails, or who doesn't have to carefully weigh every gram of food, or who didn't miss out on years of summer camps and birthday parties because the risk of an insulin crisis was too great. While I admit that my niece has gained in maturity and focus from her condition, I think her parents would agree that it came at too high a price. If they had known, would they have terminated the pregnancy? Of course not. But they will never think of her diabetes as a blessing or merely an “identity”."

""Far from the Tree: Parents, Children and the Search for Identity" is a tough read. An anecdote-heavy survey of a wide range of conditions from deafness and dwarfism to schizophrenia and genius, this book tells the frequently heartbreaking story of families struggling to make sense of these differences.<br/><br/>Solomon (Yale '85) devotes considerable focus to the tension between identity and illness. It's a fascinating and ambiguous conflict - and one particularly relevant to our society's current obsession with identity politics. I've always been a believer in the Western quest for the perfectibility of man, so many of the chapters in this book were especially challenging for me. The idea that one should accept limitations rather than trying to overcome them still feels wrong to me, but Solomon makes a compelling case that much harm often comes from attempts to "fix" these conditions.<br/><br/>I was particularly affected by Solomon's observations on the parents of children with these conditions. While many parents claimed that they experienced profound personal growth and wouldn't have had things any other way, many others desperately admitted to thinking that killing their child might be the best outcome for all parties. There is such tragedy in all of these cases - it left me wondering what I would do in such a situation. There seem to be only hard choices.<br/><br/>His chapters on physical conditions, mental illnesses, and musical prodigies were quite strong. His "rape", "criminal", "transgender", and "father" (about his own exceedingly unconventional reproductive strategy) chapters were less compelling. A chapter on homosexuality was absent - conspicuously so because Solomon is gay himself.<br/><br/>Overall though, this book was not only thought-provoking but emotionally powerful as well. It revealed a whole world that I had little prior understanding of and did so in a way that was brave, balanced, and thorough.<br/><br/>Full review and highlights at <a href="http://books.max-nova.com/far-from-the-tree">http://books.max-nova.com/far-from-the-tree</a>"

"I feel like I missed something. I've heard SO many great things about this book and clearly I'm in the minority but I came to dread picking up this monstrosity so just stopped doing it. I gave up after the first 3 chapters. Way too many (bad, long, awkward) direct quotes and opinions by the author. And each section had SO many short vignettes that I didn't have time to really connect with or care about any of the families he interviewed. <br/><br/>Maybe I'll try other sections in the future - the theme and subjects were so interesting to me. I just wasn't clicking with the overall tone and style."