What difference should it really make to Diana? So what her
brother, Matt, had used a word incorrectly on two separate occasions. Indeed,
he had used the same word incorrectly—incorrectly in two different ways. But,
what difference should it really make?
Of the twins, Matt was considered the shining star—an
example of what strides an individual could make with solid determination to
beat the odds and fight personal adversity. Diana, on the other hand, while
successful in her own right, was a natural. Academic and artistic
accomplishments had come easily to her. She had never needed to be pushed—she
excelled on her own volition. The one time she made a “C” on her report card
and cockily addressed her parents’ anger by saying, “It’s an average grade,”
she was sternly told, “You are not average. It better not happen again or there
will be consequences.” It didn’t happen again, but not because of the threat.
She had not enjoyed seeing the resulting grade.
Their mother, Judith, first worried over Matt’s failure to
excel when the artwork he brought home from first grade was made up of
one-color stick figures, compared to Diana’s multi-colored landscapes. A minor
speech impediment, left-handedness, an inability to make friends or recognize
social cues, and a new book on the bestseller shelf, finalized the home
diagnosis. Judith was certain that Matt had “Asperger’s.” She worked closely
with the second grade teacher, who had a personal interest in identifying those
“on the spectrum,” to establish a program at the local elementary school. The
two women ran workshops, brought in speakers familiar with the entire range of
autism, and provided support for parents whose children fit the label. They
provided coffee for the kids whose doctors prescribed caffeine as a counter to
the hyperactivity, and boxes filled with Legos, K’Nex, and manipulatives for
those who had the unnerving need to constantly be sorting and counting. The
program gave Judith an identity and a project—ensuring Matt’s future success in
the world. The amount of time devoted to her project was immense, and the end
product beyond her expectations.
When Diana first heard Matt use the word paradigm—“You have these professors living in their paradigms
dictating to finance about results they claim are driven by the science of
economics.”—she quickly pointed out, “Paradigm actually refers to a pattern
that is a clear example, as when a verb is conjugated. You probably meant to
say ivory tower.” Matt waved off Diana’s correction saying, “There are numerous
definitions.” He continued with his mini lecture to Diana, and Judith, who
proudly smiled with admiration at her son who had recently been hired by a big
Wall Street investment firm. Dejected, Diana sullenly sat only half-listening
to her brother. She always made the same mistake. She knew Matt and Judith were
a team, a union bonded solidly together. Yet, she persisted in trying to point
out the faults of each to the other, hoping to crack it apart just enough to
make room for herself.
What difference did it make? Diana wrestled with the
significance and insignificance of her feelings, the paradox consuming her.
After the visit, she was unable to shake the need to prove herself right, and
to, for once, hear her mother or brother say, “You’re right, Diana.” She
desperately sought a place on their team where she could contribute as an
equal. She used the online version of the Oxford English Dictionary where she
found the equivalent of a full column of definitions to pore over. Scanning the
examples, she could not reconcile any of them to fit Matt’s use of the word.
Smugly, she closed her browser. At work she told the story of her brother’s
mistake to several co-workers. Some were able to appreciate the subtlety of the
misuse, others were completely dumbfounded by her apparent zeal to prove him a
fool, and responded with indulgent smiles.
One friend made a pun by laughing and talking in a
stooge-like way saying, “Oh I get it. A pair of dimes. Next time tell him you
don’t know about a pair of dimes, but you’ll take four nickles.” He chuckled to
himself as he returned to his office still muttering, “Pair of dimes . . . pair
of dimes,” like a recording you can’t turn off.
Diana was haunted. The word kept popping up all over the
place. While at a large bookstore, she saw the bestseller Paradigms and
Prejudice. She read in a novel about the
heroine being a “paradigm of virtue.” Wasn’t that supposed to be a paragon of virtue? Synonyms, perhaps. A column in the New
York Times extolled the overuse of the word
paradigm in today’s language and
called it “the most popular malapropism.”
As Diana analyzed her obsession, she realized it was not
over the word. She had been fighting this battle for a long time and it wasn’t
just her jealousy.
In college, her mother had come to help her pack up to go
home for the summer. Diana asked her mother’s opinion about a birthday gift she
was considering for her cousin, Sara, and started to describe the earrings she
had seen at a local artisan shop. Judith quickly interrupted her saying, “Sara
is allergic to all metals except gold and even then she can’t wear anything
less than 18 karat.” Diana was amazed to find out this detail about her
cousin—something she had never known.
“Eighteen karat! That’s nearly pure gold.”
“Oh, it’s no where close. Pure gold is 100 karats.”
“No, Mom. Pure gold is 24 karats.”
“Diana, I know what I’m talking about. Pure gold is 100
karats.”
As always when face-to-face with one of her mother’s
sweeping and affirmative statements, Diana became disabled. Her mind raced,
synapses fueled and fired madly. She wanted to contradict this woman whose
convictions and opinions about absolutely everything were always said with such
unquestionable authority. How could she let such an opportunity go by? Here was
a situation where her mother was clearly wrong about something that Diana could
prove by simply opening up her dictionary. Here, a chance to be smarter. The
longed-for expert in Diana’s many and varied unsuccessful face-offs with her
mother was an indisputable resource.
“No, Mother.” Diana took the plunge. Grabbing the dictionary
off her bookshelf, she quickly flipped to gold. No help. She flipped again to
karat. A unit of fineness for gold equal to 1/24 part of pure gold in an
alloy. Putting her finger on the
definition, she shoved the book under her mother’s nose, “There.” Diana held
her breath, waiting to exhale twenty years of having too little information to
mount a convincing argument to persuade or sway her mother.
Judith sucked in her breath slowly, pulled herself up to her
full height—a good three inches taller than Diana—and lifted her chin slightly,
pursing her lips together at the same time. As she exhaled, she controlled the
words through her mouth with tightly flexed muscles around her lips that
extended down to her neck and back to her ears. “That could be wrong,” she
said.
Diana couldn’t clearly hear the words, her own disbelief
that she had angered her mother filled the inside of her head, making a loud ocean-like
sound. She remembered as a child, listening for the ocean in some South China
Sea conch shells her father had brought back with him after two tours in
Vietnam, and thought this sound in her head right now was a magnification of
that memory.
She had not been told she was wrong about the definition.
She had been wrong in daring to contradict. The ocean calmed, and Diana and her
mother went back to packing boxes.
About a year after the first malapropistic paradigm
incident, Diana was again with her family for a casual get together. They had
all decided to rent a DVD that would be light, entertaining, and funny.
Unbelievably, perhaps inescapably, one of the characters referred to a paradigm
shift during one of the scenes. Diana’s eyes quickly scanned the members of her
family for a reaction. Her father gazed blankly at the screen, her mother sat
curled up in a corner of the couch filing her nails, occasionally glancing up,
and her brother squinted with furrowed brow as if trying to figure out part of
the plot. Diana realized she had tensed at the use of the dreaded word and
forced herself to relax by rolling her head around to stretch her neck muscles.
This word had become a symbol for her so that every time she
heard it, or read it, her gut reacted with a spasm and her heart began to
pound. Then the unexpected happened. Diana’s father turned to her and asked,
“What is a paradigm?” Diana froze. She dared not speak. Only a few seconds
passed as she formed the explanation that a paradigm shift is when old
practices are given up and new practices are accepted as the norm. This was her
chance. Her father had looked directly at her and asked. She was just about to
speak when Matt’s voice was heard. “It’s when something is in a constant state
of flux.”
Her dad nodded, seemingly satisfied, and the blank gaze
returned to his face. Incredulous, speechless, and horrified, Diana looked
about her. No one questioned this authoritative answer. It didn’t matter that
it was wrong. An acceptable and plausible answer had been given and no one
questioned it. Her parents had no need of this word in their everyday lives.
Diana’s mind screamed at her, “Say something! You can’t let it go at that.” But
she did let it go. The panic of the moment drained away and a sardonic smile replaced
her previously shocked countenance.
That night, Diana had an epiphany. Her brother was trained
in a very narrow field of endeavor, one in which he was very successful, highly
paid, and respected for his efforts. His field did not require him to know
anything about literature or art, fine wines, or gourmet food. Nor was he
interested in these things. His working vocabulary was a well-defined but
limited list of terminology he and his peers used to communicate with one
another about credit default swaps and financial derivatives, but ill-equipped
him for conversations on social, political, or, absurdly, . . . economic
topics. He received accolades for his work and thus was considered the more
intelligent of the twins. Plus, he had done the impossible. In Judith’s words,
“My son overcame Autism. Well, actually, Asberger’s Syndrome.”
Diana had the ability to drink in the world and all it had
to offer. She had become caught up in the need for a label and found the label
to be meaningless. This had been her paradigm . . . and it was about to shift.
Copyright DJ Anderson, 2012
