Yup. Education again. Last one, I promise!

Mostly because I reached the end of that TED series.

And it was this :

Isn’t that bit with the polar bear and the huskies amazing? That first picture scared the hell out of me. I was sure something very bad was about to happen.

But instead, due to the power of play and the sunny if slightly clueless nature of a certain husky bitch (who presumably was eager to meet the big, weird looking white dog), it turned instead into a simply amazing and touching example of simple and natural cooperation.

Makes you feel all warm inside.

On to the talk itself. I find it sad that a man like Stuart Brown who is clearly doing important research about the nature of learning and development has trouble getting funding simply because funding agencies are stuffy stick in the mud old fogies afraid of what their peers will say if they fund research about something that seems (on the surface) silly, like play.

The talk is from 2008, though, so there is a distinct possibility that the publicity attracted by being a TED speaker and the implicit endorsement of being accepted there has overcome this absurd reluctance on the part of funding bodies and gotten him the backing he so richly deserves.

Anyhow, the aspect of the talk I wish to discuss is this notion of play deprivation and its effects on an individual. And, because I’m neurotic and self-absorbed, I’m going to talk about it in relation to myself.

I was severely play deprived as a child. That is clear. Not for my whole childhood, mind you. I had friends and played with them when I was very very small. Tricia from next door and Janet from across the street. We jumped rope, played hopscotch, played freeze tag, and so on.

OK, so it wasn’t the most butch start in life, but it was at least social.

But they were a year older than me, and that combined with the fact that I never went to kindergarten meant that after they went to school, I was alone at home with the babysitter and had nobody my age to play with at all.

And that was the start of it. I played by myself from then on, via books and television and video games. My complete lack of social skills from lack of social play isolated me from my peers once I went to school. My lack of rough and tumble play made me timid and fearful.

Who knows how my life might have been different if I had gone to kindergarten?

Most of the time, the only one I had to play with was my older brother, and I treasure all the time we spent watching music videos together, playing video games and board games together, and just generally hanging out and being silly.

But that is not the same as socially playing with people your own age, and I had tragically little of that as a child. Even when I did have friends, they tended to abuse me, or at least that is how it seemed at the time. Perhaps they were just trying to initiate rough-house play.

And that ship had, sadly, already sailed for me.

Instead, I spent a lot of time alone, and I think that accounts for how I became so overdeveloped in certain areas like abstract reasoning and so woefully underdeveloped in other area like social skills.

And I am not complaining, exactly. I am not at all sure that I would sacrifice any portion of my considerable mental horsepower in order to be better socially skilled. I know that nothing should be more important than happiness and better social skills would make me a lot happier because I would feel more secure and less vulnerable in the world, and be more open to new social experiences.

It might even banish the overwhelming fear that has been a constant in my life ever since I was a bullied little kid terrified of his peers. The fear of others, the terror of people, the pervasive sense of never, ever being safe, the fear of the unknown… all could go away with proper socialization.

But I still would not trade away my brain power for it. As much as it has been more of a burden than a gift in my life and no matter that it isolated me from others my age throughout my childhood, this big bloated brain of mine is all I have to give this world, and I would not trade any of it away.

Not that this is a likely scenario. I am sure it is possible to be perfectly socially well adjusted and still be a genius.

Not likely, perhaps. But possible!

And it is not like if I learned to socialize better, I would instantly become stupider. Life is not so zero sum as all that. I already have the bloated brain. Learning proper social skills and becoming properly socialized at this point would not take that away.

And it is nto like I have no social life either. Granted, I still spend a lot of time alone, playing video games and browsing the Web and whatnot.

But I have three awesome friends with whom I eat out, hang out, chat, watch videos, and in general be silly and relaxed and have fun.

I am still pretty scared of the world outside this cozy little cloister of mine, but compared to how badly off I was when I lived alone, I am light years more sane and social now.

As for the rest, well, these things will come with time. I can’t rush it, force it, control it, or predict it, and trying to do any of those things will only suppress the process.

The best I can do is provide myself with as many of the conditions for growth as possible, and then get the hell out of the way.

What do you know… this turned out to be a diary entry anyhow!