risky genetic profile who were raised by nurturing mothers did as well as
or
better
than their long-allele brethren—even those raised in similarly
secure environments—at key social tasks,
like finding playmates,
building alliances, and handling conflicts. They often became leaders of
their troops. They also processed serotonin more efficiently.
Stephen Suomi, the scientist who conducted these studies, has
speculated that these high-reactive monkeys owed their success to the
enormous amounts of time they spent watching rather than participating
in the group, absorbing on a deep level the laws of social dynamics.
(This is a hypothesis that might ring true to parents whose high-reactive
children hover observantly on the edges of their peer group, sometimes
for weeks or months, before edging successfully inside.)
Studies in humans have found that adolescent
girls with the short
allele of the SERT gene are 20 percent more likely to be depressed than
long-allele girls when exposed to stressful family environments, but 25
percent
less
likely to be depressed when raised in stable homes.
Similarly, short allele adults have been shown to have more anxiety in
the evening than others when they’ve had stressful days, but
less
anxiety
on calm days. High-reactive four-year-olds give more pro-social
responses than other children when presented with moral dilemmas—
but this difference remains at age five only if their mothers used gentle,
not harsh, discipline. High-reactive children raised in supportive
environments are even more resistant than other kids to the common
cold and
other respiratory illnesses, but get sick more easily if they’re
raised in stressful conditions. The short allele of the SERT gene is also
associated with higher performance on a wide range of cognitive tasks.
These findings are so dramatic that it’s remarkable no one arrived at
them until recently. Remarkable, but perhaps not surprising.
Psychologists are trained to heal, so their research naturally focuses on
problems and pathology. “It is almost as if, metaphorically speaking,
sailors are so busy—and wisely—looking
under the water line for
extensions of icebergs that could sink their ship,” writes Belsky, “that
they fail to appreciate that by climbing on top of the iceberg it might
prove possible to chart a clear passage through the ice-laden sea.”
The parents of high-reactive children are exceedingly lucky, Belsky
told me. “The time and effort they invest will actually make a difference.
Instead of seeing these kids
as vulnerable to adversity, parents should
see them as malleable—for worse, but also for better.” He describes
eloquently a high-reactive child’s ideal parent: someone who “can read
your cues and respect your individuality;
is warm and firm in placing
demands on you without being harsh or hostile; promotes curiosity,
academic achievement, delayed gratification, and self-control; and is not
harsh, neglectful, or inconsistent.” This advice is terrific for all parents,
of course, but it’s crucial for raising a high-reactive child. (If you think
your child might be high-reactive, you’re probably already asking
yourself what else you can do to cultivate your son or daughter.
Chapter
11
has some answers.)
But even orchid children can withstand some adversity, Belsky says.
Take divorce. In general, it will disrupt orchid kids more than others: “If
the parents squabble a lot, and put their kid in the middle, then watch
out—this is the kid who will succumb.” But if the divorcing parents get
along, if they provide their child with the other psychological nutrients
he needs, then even an orchid child can do just fine.
Most people would appreciate the flexibility of this message, I think;
few of us had problem-free childhoods.
But there’s another kind of flexibility that we all hope applies to the
question of who we are and what we become. We want the freedom to
map our own destinies. We want to preserve the advantageous aspects of
our temperaments and improve, or even discard, the ones we dislike—
such as a horror of public speaking.
In addition to our inborn
temperaments, beyond the luck of the draw of our childhood experience,
we want to believe that we—as adults—can shape our selves and make
what we will of our lives.
Can we?