"All the memories, the emotions were all still there on some level. That was surprising to me."
My conversation with Rob Henderson, author of "Troubled: A Memoir of Foster Care, Family and Social Class."
When Rob Henderson offered his followers a chance to talk with him, I eagerly signed up. I thoroughly enjoyed his memoir, “Troubled: A Memoir of Foster Care, Family and Social Class” and his many appearances on some of my favorite podcasts, including Blocked and Reported, The Dishcast with Andrew Sullivan and Honestly with Bari Weiss. (You can read my review here.)
What follows are some highlights from that conversation. Quotes have been lightly edited for length and clarity.
In his memoir, Rob shares about his difficult childhood and teenage years and later his time in the military and education at Yale and Cambridge. It’s a sobering read but the book gives a unique perspective on growing up in unstable environments and how the worldview of his peers from elite backgrounds can be shockingly different.
Reading “Troubled” gave me new insights into Rob’s life and the impact of an unstable childhood on a person. I asked Rob if, as the writer, he had any new insights into either himself or his life situations after writing this memoir.
I guess one thing that did surprise me as I was going through it was just how fresh the feelings were of those early childhood experiences. Now that I’m in my early 30s I felt like, ‘OK, now I’ve gotten past it and put it behind me.’ But no, once I really attempted to put myself back in that time with all those memories, all the feelings came back. All the memories, the emotions were all still there on some level. That was surprising to me.
Rob also shared something that didn’t make it into the book. He noted that writing the memoir helped him appreciate both the close bond he had with his sister and how that bond made him want to be a good role model to her. That desire to be a good role model may have even curbed some of his behavior.
Bascially, had I just been adopted without my sister’s presence, I do think I would’ve behaved even worse, gotten into more serious misadventures. But on some level, in the back of my mind I would tell myself, ‘My sister wouldn’t like this very much.’ Sometimes she would know what I was up to. She would tell me, ‘That’s stupid’ or ‘You shouldn’t do that,’ which is sad because she was younger than me. She wasn’t exactly a role model but she made me want to be a better role model for her. I think that may have played some role in me not completely going off in a dangerous direction.
Since he had mentioned wanting to be a good role model to his sister, I asked if he felt he was a role model to others—foster kids, veterans, children from difficult backgrounds. He gave an insightful answer.
I don’t necessarily think of myself that way. When you write a memoir, there is a matter of selective editing. I’m not telling you literally every single thing that happened to me. People who read it know me, they know a little bit about me, but far from everything. So I don’t know if it’s fair to say, ‘I should be a role model’ when people only have a glimpse.
If you’re going to be a role model, I think its better to have someone you know in your personal life. Maybe a family member, sibling, coach, teacher. Someone you interact with on a person-to-person level. There are probably worse people kids could choose than me, but it’s not something I aspire to.
Rob is a founding faculty fellow of the University of Austin, a new institute of higher education that “prepares thoughtful and ethical innovators, builders, leaders, public servants and citizens through open inquiry and civil discourse.” He is also on the Board of Advisors, along with some impressive names including social psychologist and NYU professor, Jonathan Haidt; former president of Harvard, Larry Summers; award-winning playwright, David Mamet; my favorite writer at The Atlantic, Caitlin Flanagan; and Harvard professor and former president of the American Enterprise Institute, Arthur Brooks. At 34, Rob is by far the youngest member of this impressive group.
I was a founding faculty fellow—that was the title they gave us. We were essentially brand ambassadors for the university. We were required to teach summer courses, bascially help publicize and promote the university. I’m on the board of advisors now. I don’t teach, but I still have an affiliation there working on the inside to help promote it and get more people to be aware that’s there’s this new experiment in higher education.
Something I’ve been mulling over lately is the topic of merit. In the near future, I hope to review “The Tyranny of Merit” by Harvard professor Michael Sandel. While Rob hadn’t read that book specifically, he did have thoughts on the general pushback against the concept of merit.
What’s the alternative to merit? Do we want a system where people are chosen based on something other than their abilities? I get what they’re saying. In a society where people are judged based on test scores you get this entitlement complex. ‘I earned this thing,’ and by implication people who couldn’t do this didn’t earn it. I think you could have a meritocracy while also dampening that attitude and getting people to realize that a lot of the factors that led to your success—those were endowments you didn’t earn. This is something that I’ve wrestled with personally.
Honestly, a lot of my views have developed out of thinking about meritocracy, thinking about the factors that let me be successful and realizing I didn’t earn my academic inclinations, my curiosity, my personality traits. To some degree those were baked in. The military was one avenue that allowed those attributes to express themselves. Most people in a meritocracy aren’t going to be in a position to go to an expensive school and live a very accomplished life in the conventional sense. That’s why I like to focus more on, ‘what are the areas of fulfillment that most people could have access to?’
My discussion with Rob gave me lots to think about. He shared that he plans to do a book event here in Austin in the summer. I hope that happens and I look forward to possibly meeting him in person, not just virtually.