Pollyanna

My inner realist has always snarled when it has caught a whiff of a pollyanna. Until this weekend, when I was in Littleton, NH and came across this statue of Pollyanna, I’d never actually explored the origin of the term pollyanna—“an excessively cheerful or optimistic person,”—I just knew I prefer to give pollyannas a wide berth.

But when I came across this statue, I got curious about the literary character for whom this term is named, and I read more about the original 1913 novel, Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter, whose title character, enshrined above, in the author’s home town, was a girl who played the “glad game”—always looking for the good in any situation, no matter how bad it might be. And based on the plot synopsis, I’d say, it was fairly bad for Pollyanna. She was orphaned and had to go live with her dour aunt who disliked children in a town full of misanthropes. But as the story goes, she won them over, helping them to see good, no matter what. In one anecdote Pollyanna, finds that all that is left in the Christmas gift bucket is a set of crutches, but instead of feeling sorry for herself that she won’t have a Christmas gift this year, she feels glad that she doesn’t need crutches.

Does she sound insufferable or what?

Of course you could argue that she is incredibly well adjusted and resilient and adaptable, and no doubt if such a human existed, she would be. But I find the part about her winning over the dour aunt and misanthropic townspeople to be, exactly what Pollyanna originally was: a tale.

I’m thinking of Brené Brown’s explanation of sympathy vs. empathy now, which is captured so well in this two minute video:

“Empathy is feeling with people...Rarely if ever does an empathic response begin with ‘at least.’

I love Brown’s use of “silver lining-ing”as a verb. She points to this behavior as a telltale sign that someone is in sympathy (which drives disconnection) vs. empathy (which is connective). It seems to me that Pollyanna is an artist with one brush stroke: the silver lining. The “glad game.” Looking for the good in any situation, which is far too tone deaf for the real human experience.

And YET, Pollyanna was a bestseller. So popular that it turned into a long series, and as recently as 2008 there was a “Glad Club” formed in Denver, Colorado, based on the ideology of this fictionalized character.

Here’s where the plot got really juicy for me: Pollyanna gets hit by a car, and she overhears the doctor saying she might never walk again, and even she cannot continue playing the glad game, UNTIL, miraculously, she is healed, and she is able to squeeze out another silver lining: now, more than ever, she is extra appreciative of her legs. This left me wondering how it would have gone for her had that tidy plot development of a miracle cure not occurred. Would Pollyanna have had to expand her tool kit from the “glad game” (which I think could also be called the silver lining club) and learn some other skills?

Do I seem overly frustrated with a fictionalized character? Yes. If you are reading frustration, you are right. Snarl truly is the best word I can describe for what happens to me internally when in the real world I feel I am in the presence of a pollyanna.

The truth is—being able to be positive is an incredibly useful skill. Especially if you can muster that in a time of duress. It’s a skill I could absolutely work on. But there is something about a pollyanna-ish response (and the field of positive psychology even) that feels more like a dagger than a balm if that is the sum total of the response you get to a painful experience.

There are some new flavors of struggle on the menu for each of us this year. There is a lot of suffering. For that reason I have been revisiting The Empathy Tool Box—a post from several years ago.

In the closing to that post I write:

“The antidote to the ‘emotional, spiritual and psychological violence’ caused by a phrase like: ‘everything happens for a reason’ is the truth, kindness, and wisdom in this lifeline of a phrase, from writer, Tim Lawrence:

“Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.

Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. Say it, sing it, write it--this is the mantra of Empathy. There is no return to a magical land of "before" or "normal" when something terrible happens. Perhaps, with time, your world grows large enough to hold your grief and joy side by side, but the grief never vanishes.”

…

Being a pollyanna is something, it seems to me, that is best done in private—like flossing your teeth or trimming your toenails. It is good for you—even great for you—to privately examine how you can make the best out of a hard time and how you can find gratitude in the dark. But trying to urge another struggling person towards this place—it seems to me—is usually about your own discomfort with that person’s discomfort, and not about offering solace during a challenging time.