So, I used to think I was a misanthrope. I mean, I liked people and all, but only in the abstract. I enjoyed the concept of other people, but I didn't seem to enjoy talking to them.
When I added to this my delight in reading Florence King and H.L. Mencken, the conclusion was obvious: I was a misanthrope who had the best intentions of liking others. This particular self-awareness in a Christian leads to obvious difficulties, and I used to joke with my sister-in-law about getting together to write a book that we'd call "The Misanthrope's Guide to Evangelism."
Misanthrope's Guide to Evangelism." Over time, however, it dawned on me that I didn't really dislike people. The cause of my troubles was a deep-rooted introversion. Talking to people left me drained, uncomfortable, and dissatisfied, but deep down I really did like them. Then it hit me: I'm not a misanthrope; I'm an introverted philanthropist. (Though in our current society, a "philanthropist" is someone who builds libraries or wears colored sunglasses while meeting heads of state, I'm using the term in its literal form, meaning a lover of people.) And I can bolster my claim by pointing out the existence of my polar opposite: the extroverted misanthrope. (Fred Phelps comes to mind.)
Now I've revealed enough about myself for you to draw certain conclusions about me, perhaps even to pigeonhole me as an actual member of the newly-coined category Introverted Philanthropist. I could tell you that my sun is in Sagittarius while my rising sign is Scorpio or that I'm an INTP on that personality scale thing, but those arcane descriptions would just lead you back to the same conclusion: I like people; I just don't want to tell them my story.
And therein lies the rub. It's common knowledge that in sharing one's story, one finds community and self-awareness and general postmodern bliss. It's all about telling your story, or so the story goes. And for the extroverts (read about 90% of the population), that's probably true. But what of the introverts? What about the people who feel worse after sharing their story? What of those who feel their grief is cheapened when they try to explain it to a group? What if Alcoholics Anonymous makes some people feel depressed rather than motivated?
A brief story: years ago, when I realized I needed to quit drinking, I went to several AA meetings. In fact I went to loads of meetings because I believed them when they kept saying that if I kept coming it would work. And it did work, in the sense that I wasn't drinking. But it also worked in the sense that I felt horrible about myself and trapped in an endless cycle of going to meetings where people insisted that I share my story. Eventually, I found an alternate path in a system called "Rational Recovery," and I've since been spared the terrifying specter of returning to share my story with the well-meaning 12-steppers.
This is the place where the reader says, "Hey! What's with telling us a story in order to illustrate that we shouldn't make you tell your story?" The obvious answer is that I'm typing these words from the safety of a Holiday Inn on I-39 in Wisconsin. To the introvert, there's a world of difference between sharing your story face-to-face and expressing yourself on a laptop in a hotel. In case it's not clear by now, I prefer the latter. And in an ironic twist, I get a certain amount of satisfaction in the notion that I'm not alone. Which brings me to the point of all this self-disclosure…
There are probably young people in your parish who don't want to tell you their story. And no matter how much you prod, coax, or accuse them of denial, you're not going to get them to tell their stories. Well, that's not entirely true. You can force an introvert to talk; it just won't do for them what it'll do for loads of others in your group. Chances are the introvert will feel depressed and lonely while the rest of the group celebrates its collective happiness at finally having helped the introvert get something off her shoulders. Allow me to suggest that, for some of us, sharing our story with the group is anything but helpful.
But lest I leave you on a depressing note, I offer this: many introverts enjoy expressing themselves in drawing or writing or music or just about anything from a safe distance. Just please don't insist they hold hands while praying or talk to you while eating breakfast.
Originally published in the May/June 2004 issue of YouthWorker Journal, copyright 2005, Youth Specialties. Reprinted/used with permission.
