The Dead Letter Department #2

I miss talking to you.

(did you miss dead letter department #1? catch up here!)

be bad at things

There’s a whole raft of discourse floating around out there about what happens when you’re raised with a tremendous focus on test-score friendly intelligence: ‘gifted’ programs (scare quotes definitely used with intent), designations of exceptional or twice-exceptional, indigo children (lol) and so on. A very brilliant tumblr writer I’ve followed for ages has a whole fleet of essays about the complications accompanying this kind of education: the racism and classism of the gifted programs themselves, the way the absurd pressure-cooker of being told you will grow up to change the world can lay waste to any possibility of developing your own ambitions or, you know, just getting to be a child while you’re a child. I still have a full hackles up response when people say something like ‘the children are going to save us’ because for the love of all that’s holy, they shouldn’t have to. The idea that what was sold to my parents as ‘gifted’ might be more accurately described as asynchronous development, a type of neurodivergence, is something I’ve been thinking about ever since I learned the phrase. 

One of the lasting effects of spending time in such programs was, for me, a powerful desire to never be seen doing something badly. This is a pretty obvious, & I think common, result of having a lot of intense adult attention paid to how easily something supposedly comes to a kid: the ease becomes the value. If you’re not immediately good at things, if they don’t slide smoothly into your brain, and perhaps most importantly if you can’t to some degree teach and manage them for yourself significantly better than your age peers, than you probably shouldn’t even bother. You certainly aren’t going to be of much interest to the intellect-fetishizing educational stream you’re in if you ever stop excelling, so you’d better be sure to run as fast as you can before the burnout hits. 

Learning how to be cheerfully terrible at things is one way to try to chip your way out of this predictably barren labyrinth, and right now I am learning how to draw badly. It took very minimal supplies to start: I have two books, the exact same pen I use to write with, and a stack of nice thick index cards. I have no ambitions for this project—actually, project is the wrong word for it, since I don’t even have any goals. No one’s going to see the drawings, except probably my sister, and I show absolutely no signs of turning this into something bigger or more important or world-savinger. I just like it. It’s nice to put on a podcast and draw fat little gnomes and lopsided mushrooms.

(pls ignore the chips in my desk, apparently I write hard sometimes)

If you’re super stuck in your own head, either with your creative work or just in general, I strongly recommend being shitty at something. Be deeply underwhelming! Bake an ugly loaf of bread. Play an instrument like the exact opposite of a prodigy, like someone who has to painstakingly memorize the most basic of scales. Fall over several times while doing Yoga with Adriene. No one will know but you & me, and it actually starts to feel pretty good after a while.

do better

Would you like to cry uncontrollably? Do you enjoy shopping online? If the answer to either of these questions is yes, you definitely need to check out transanta on Instagram, where you can anonymously send gifts to trans, nonbinary & gnc youth in need. There are little profiles for each person & it’s easy to click through & buy them something off their wishlist. I would recommend doing this holiday activity either in private or with a very understanding companion because holy shit it made me so emotional. 

further reading

If you’re longing for more newsletters after reading this one, Samantha Irby is the absolute gold standard. She says she writes about books/snacks/softcore but it’s really mostly about Judge Mathis, a television show I have literally never watched and never plan to watch, but the newsletter makes me cackle anyway & I read every single one. 

the only good thing

It’s dark. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s pretty dark like almost all the time now. I didn’t do much with my garden this year because I was working a lot and also very sad, and I miss the feeling of messing about with plants and buying ambitious bulbs that will definitely get eaten by the squirrels or sprout all in a bundle instead of nicely spread out the way that I thought I planted them. The only good thing today is this perfume, Dirt by the Demeter Fragrance Library.

It smells just like it should, like freshly turned soil, like laying down somewhere nice and warm and grassy and taking off your shoes. 

write back

You can give that little heart button a fervent embrace, click through to leave a comment, or email me at departmentofdeadletters@gmail.com. Send me a picture of your favorite perfume! Maybe I’ll put it in the newsletter (with your permission) and we can geek out about smells together. 

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