In his book Troubled: A Memoir of Foster Care, Family and Social Class, Rob Henderson asks “Who is this book for?” His answer, “some kid like me…who might pick this [book] up and draw inspiration, the same way I did as a kid hanging out in my schools’ libraries.”
Similarly, in his 2018 New Your Times op-ed, his main motivation is to help others: “Maybe it’ll help someone else out there who reads it.”1
Let’s join in with Henderson on his mission of helping others by reading and discussing his book. What aspects of his memoir can you relate with? What are some similarities between his life and yours?
I applaud Henderson’s integrity and courage. Many aspects of his story resonate with me. At least a dozen times I wrote in the margins, “similar to me.” Meaning that something in Rob’s life was similar to an experience in my life. I could write multiple blog posts drawing similarities between my life and his—a sad exercise indeed—probably too sad to actually carry out.
But might that sad perspective be reality? Not necessarily. It certainly isn’t the whole picture.
This is because our perspectives depend on the facts that we have. Understanding reality depends facts, and not having all the facts causes us to perceive a biased reality.2 Or at least one that can be perceived differently were we to have a different set of facts.
We should make a best effort to obtain important facts so that our notions of reality don’t cause us problems. We want to avoid complacency. If we don’t regularly pursue truth—if we aren’t vigilant—we may form jaded, false or dogmatic perspectives. Pursuing truth helps us avoid becoming a curmudgeon.
I’m not saying that Rob Henderson is anywhere close to being a curmudgeon. In fact, he seems very positive and grateful considering his life experiences. It’s evident that Henderson was more grateful and more positive than many of his Yale classmates. He exhibits no sign of victimhood nor whines about oppression. As an adolescent he sought out and read biographies about people with tough lives. He reasoned, “If they could survive, then maybe I could, too.” That is a form of gratitude. But gratitude is almost always in short supply.
The focus of this post is to gain a more positive perspective on our lives; one closer to reality. This is not denial. To deny is to ignore or censor. We want to learn; to trim closer to truth.
I admit that I have experienced significant sorrow, anger, and pain in my life, and there’s no denying that Rob Henderson has too—almost certainly more than me.
I’ve talked about my childhood for countless hours, mostly in private, but I’m mostly tired of talking about it. I want to focus more on the positive. This takes discipline and work, and it doesn’t mean that Rob should stop talking about his childhood, or his ideas regarding luxury beliefs. No—he should talk, until he has extinguished his pain to a tolerable level; he should talk about luxury beliefs until others gain a better understanding of the importance of traditional families and the perverse incentives that partially fund luxury beliefs—so that children will suffer less.
But while doing this, it’s also important to develop a habit of gratitude, because gratitude helps us better perceive reality. It brings us closer to truth—by incorporating more facts into our narrative. Gratitude is often neglected, and if neglected we won’t be as content as we should be. Being ungrateful distances us from joy, love, poise, tranquillity, peace of mind, happiness and other positive emotions.
Kevin Kelly teaches us about gratitude in his book Excellent Advice for Living: Wisdom I Wish I'd Known. He writes
“Gratitude will unlock all other virtues and is something you can get better at.”
So in this post, let’s set aside Henderson’s idea of luxury beliefs, which is a large an important topic, and let’s aim for an accurate global and historical perspective on our good fortune here in the 21st century.
I like to break Troubled into three parts or segments:
Chapters 1-6 recount his childhood from ages 3 to 17;
Chapters 7-9 tell the story of his eight years in the Air Force (2007-2015); and
Chapters 10-12 describe his post-secondary education at Yale (2015-2018) and Cambridge University.
In part one, Rob is suffering—experiencing one tragedy after another.
In segment two, he enlists and serves in the military, in part to limit his own freedom—to curtail the possibility of making further poor choices. He refers to the military as a “lifeline” because quite literally it is. There’s a good chance he would have died or ended up in prison had he stayed in Red Bluff—his hometown. However, in the military, Henderson forges ahead with his life, without first dealing with his past. He ignores and denies the painful emotions that are festering inside him, but no amount of drinking will prevent that pain from leaking out. This suppression leads to a death-like experience; his hair begins turning white; he poisons himself with alcohol and he ends up in the hospital.
In part three, he wakes up from this nightmare; he is re-born; he is more mature, motivated, disciplined and personally accountable. He forms a new identity. There are hints that part of his new identity is as a “loving father figure” not only to himself, but to others, and his family. This “father” is part of his conscience, what Adam Smith refers to as the “impartial spectator.” Where does this impartial spectator come from? How did he create it? Or rather cultivate it? I may write about that in a future post.
We can view the three parts of Troubled as follows: 1) suffering; 2) death; and 3) rebirth. I’m oversimplifying for metaphorical effect, but I’m probably not that far off. This is a timeless theme, and can be seen in eastern religions; 12-step programs like Alcoholics Anonymous/Al-Anon; in sports, fitness and health; in the practice of psychotherapy; and in literature. Most prominently though—at least in Western Civilization—it is repeated in the narrative of the crucifixion and “resurrection” of Jesus Christ. You may disagree with my use of quotation marks around the word resurrection, but regardless of the facts—and setting aside the meaning of the word “sin” and the reason for his suffering—the metaphor of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ speaks to our human nature—about what it means to be human.
We have agency. We are individuals with unique identities that require freedom. As we live our lives we undergo a regular cycle of letting go of old habits and developing new habits. We make mistakes and—we hope—learn from those mistakes. We regularly shed our old identity and form a new, more suitable one. We “become.” We face a series of Wild Problems, in which we give up our past life in order to experience a new life.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is a metaphor describing the cycle of learning and “repenting,” that a human experiences over his or her life; and in tandem with the ethos of respect—for ourselves and our rights, and others and their rights—is one of the sources of our individuality, i.e. the opposite of slavery.
This fact about human nature—this process of growth and our need for respect—is so important that it is protected by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution; an agreement to respect others and their rights. We are by nature animals with agency; “truth” seekers; individuals with changing identities; religious creatures that require freedom and respect in order to be fully human. Our survival depends on discovering what works. This is in our DNA. It is part of our human nature.
“Repentance” plays an important role in our lives. Maybe repentance is an old fashioned religious word, but it simply refers to the act of changing; and more specifically it leans positive. Thus a more modern and familiar meaning would be improving or growing. How we change and the steps involved are better summarized in a future post, but they are beautifully illustrated in Rob’s memoir, though not necessarily explicitly stated.
We can ditch the biblical language and think of this cycle of suffering, death and re-birth as one of self-improvement, lifelong learning, edification or just plain old “education.” What is your favorite way of describing this cycle or process?
Regardless of the terms used to describe this process, it’s important to see that “faith” and tradition play an important role in our learning.3 Some of the questions we face are beyond science, beyond cost-benefit analysis, and beyond the capabilities and scope of public education. They are by nature “religious” questions4 and they don’t necessarily have right answers. Without better alternatives we might rely on faith or tradition to help answer these questions. Often we just have to “try it on,” to see what works best for us.
How is gratitude connected to repentance? My answer relies on seeing our trials and tribulations as sources of growth. Anti-fragility. This takes creativity and positive attitude. The poem “Prayer at Winter Solstice” by Dana Gioia illustrates my view.
Blessed is the road that keeps us homeless. Blessed is the mountain that blocks our way. Blessed are hunger and thirst, loneliness and all forms of desire. Blessed is the labor that exhausts us without end. Blessed are the night and the darkness that blinds us. Blessed is the cold that teaches us to feel. Blessed are the cat, the child, the cricket, and the crow. Blessed is the hawk devouring the hare. Blessed are the saint and the sinner who redeem each other. Blessed are the dead, calm in their perfection. Blessed is the pain that humbles us. Blessed is the distance that bars our joy. Blessed is this shortest day that makes us long for light. Blessed is the love that in losing we discover.
The single best aspect of Troubled is that it finishes on a positive, grateful note.
Today, I am immensely grateful for how my life has turned out. Really, it feels like I've woken up from a nightmare. People have told me that my story has brought them to tears. That's never been my intention—I don't want pity. I'm one of the lucky ones. There are many kids who have suffered far more. Some of them never recover from what they've endured.
True. And “nightmare” is an appropriate description of his childhood. I’m so glad that Rob feels grateful for the way his life turned out. I’m happy for him, as I expect most of us are. We want him and others to succeed, find love and be grateful. I agree with almost everything he writes in this book. His ideas on luxury beliefs are an extremely difficult topic to write about. I’m grateful that he succeeding in publishing this book and glad he is able to share his ideas with us.
For today, let’s remind ourselves what we’re grateful for. Let’s get some perspective on our good fortune.
First off, we were born! That is reason to celebrate. And we were born now, in the 20th and 21st century!
Why is this important?
The natural state of man is poverty, and to a large extent, much of history is filled with war and ignorance. It’s only recently that a majority of the world has become literate. It’s only recently that most people aren’t driven by supernatural dogmas. The Roman Catholic Church is not the danger it once was. We Americans have it better than most. We have a Constitution—blood stained and in tatters—disabled, yet still functioning. To a large extent we have peace, wealth, freedom and respect. Our life expectancy is high. We have medicine, computers, heat and air conditioning, fossil fuels, soap, and comfortable clothing. I could go on and on.
We don’t want to get stuck in sorrow. We also don’t want to be distracted from the pain in our lives. That pain is trying to tell us something. We should see ourselves as anti-fragile—that is we grow stronger by facing and working through problems. We grow stronger by overcoming challenge.
In this mix pain and joy, it can be hard to see our good fortune. But one way is to develop a practice of gratitude—everyday we should say what we’re grateful for. My family does this at dinner occasionally, but we should do it every night.
So let’s take a moment to remind Rob how good he had it in his childhood.
You were born in the United States. Your poverty wasn’t extreme poverty. One billion people in the world today live in extreme poverty (i.e. living on a few dollars per day). In his book Factfulness, Hans Rosling describes extreme poverty in the following way.
You start…with $1 per day. Your five children have to spend hours walking barefoot with your single plastic bucket, back and forth, to fetch water from a dirty mud hole an hour's walk away. On their way home they gather firewood, and you prepare the same gray porridge that you've been eating at every meal, every day, for your whole life—except during the months when the meager soil yielded no crops and you went to bed hungry. One day your youngest daughter develops a nasty cough. Smoke from the indoor fire is weakening her lungs.
You can't afford antibiotics, and one month later she is dead. This is extreme poverty. Yet you keep struggling on. If you are lucky and the yields are good, you can maybe sell some surplus crops and manage to earn more than $2 a day, which would move you to the next level. Good luck! (Roughly 1 billion people live like this today.)
You had teachers that gave you books from which you learned to read. You had libraries in which you found authors that taught you good character. You had TV from which you learned about elite culture.5 You attended school from which you encountered helpful mentors. You could afford fitness classes which helped you feel better than you otherwise would have. Your parents provided you with Great Value generic “pop-tarts” whereas millions living in extreme poverty eat the same gray porridge every day. You had a car which gave you the ability to more efficiently get to work and to see friends. Your dishwashing job paid more per hour than the daily wage of the world’s poorest. The battlefields of the wars that your government fought were on the other side of the earth—in Iraq and Afghanistan—away from your homes in California. You served in the most well-funded Air Force in the history of the world. You arrived at college mature, resilient and capable of critical thinking. You aren’t brainwashed by progressives dogmas, nor unwittingly espousing luxury beliefs, but rather had the curiosity, insight and discipline to develop the concept. You no longer say “mother fucker” to get a rise out of other people. You have a PhD in a field that is fascinating to you.
At the same time, you more than most, know about the pain and chaos that can accompany the lack of a loving, stable two-parent family.
We have much to be sad about, but the reality is that our lives are a mixture of joy and sorrow.
Let’s not forget that most of us here in 21st century America have only recently—just a few generations ago—emerged from a state of poverty, seemingly endless wars, racist dogma, rampant alcoholism and widespread ignorance (e.g. illiteracy)—some of us more recently than others. Some immigrating to this country are just emerging from extreme poverty and war torn communities. Much of the difference between families can be explained by this emergence from poverty. If that transition occurred in our parents’ generation or our grandparents’ generation the effects are still present in us.
With this said, I love Rob Henderson’s book. It reveals truth. There is so much to say about it, especially the self-help and self-education aspects of it. Next time, let’s focus on those aspects. What are the important lessons we can learn from Robert Kim Henderson’s life? How did he overcome so many challenges?
2018 New York Times op-ed “Why Being a Foster Child Made Me a Conservative,” motivated in part by the War Horse Writing Seminar at Columbia University.
Certainly there are cases where it is difficult or impossible to obtain all the facts—especially for children and young adults—but regardless of age or technological capabilities, sometimes our understanding of reality will never fully converge to reality. Fortunately however, we can often get “close enough.”
Here I’m referring of faith as simply a leap of faith—a step that one must take in order to truly experience an unknown aspect of life ahead. This is not necessarily and probably shouldn’t be an impulsive leap; it should be carefully pondered. For example, who to marry, what career path to follow, whether to have kids or more kids, and who to become.
By “religious” I mean secular religious. What does this mean? A) Not everything can be understood, but everything in our universe obeys the laws of physics. B) Religion is also 1) the means by which we learn, 2) the beliefs that we hold and 3) our habits. Religion is neither always positive or always negative. It is neutral, just like education, and discrimination. It can be dogmatic, but isn’t necessarily so. Religion can of course involve any set of beliefs including beliefs about supernatural phenomena.
Thanks for this write-up. I respect Rob’s story and path, and so grateful that another foster kid like me grew up and beyond those systems, with the tools and resources available to look back and feel gratitude.
This is EXCELLENT. As you say, gratitude is an attitude that can learned, and it opens to the doors to everything positive.