I remember being in elementary and middle school, driving back and forth from Athens to Atlanta every weekend so that the family (really my Mom) could spend some time in an upscale big city mall. Stuck in the back with my youngest brother (James) who hummed or sang the whole way, and my other younger brother who would generally be irritating me in a variety of ways, I spent time listening to the active conversations that would be going on between my mother and father. They were both at the University of Georgia, and both had a shared passion for helping children and leading their way in a field focused on measuring cognitive abilities and helping teachers to understand how best to teach and remediate any underlying problems. My mother, the neuropsychologist who specialized in learning disabilities, human behavior and learning, the consummate clinician/researcher, offered behavioral and emotional information and perspectives regarding cognitive abilities while my father, the statistician/researcher, and psychometric/intelligence theorist, illuminated ideas that would best underly new and exciting methods to measure these individual strengths and weaknesses. The two of them would approach a problem from opposite ends of the spectrum, combining their own strengths to create a radically new and oddly controversial cognitive assessment instruments, moving the field of intelligence testing to a new, more integrated place. I listened to their interactions, mostly not understanding the terminology or what any of it really meant.
When I ended up deciding to go into clinical psychology, I was terrified when my advanced statistics professor actually asked me (in front of my entire class) what statistical methods my parents used to standardize the K-ABC. Having no answer and no idea at all (this was early in my first year), I had to admit my ignorance. Once my classmates figured out that some of the tests we were learning and our intelligence testing class required not one but two of my father’s textbooks, I was constantly getting calls from fellow students, asking me to explain some concept or another. I would say, “I’ll get back to you,” and then would call my Dad. He would patiently answer the question and point me to the exact page to read. I would read, then call each one back, to explain the answer. Luckily, teaching others is a great way to learn, so it worked out pretty well.
My mother, a generally shy woman who avoided any excess social interactions, came to interview at my graduate school (CSPP-San Diego) for a position as a professor. She and my father had worked at CSPP several years earlier, and both were now ready to return. I accompanied her to her group interview, while my father interviewed separately. I had been prepped that she was going to talk to the students and faculty, then leave the room and come back as an older woman with Alzheimer’s Dementia to demonstrate how to assess for this condition. I was astonished to see her move into the room with confidence, answer everyone’s questions with ease, and then leave and come back in costume, and she was completely brilliant as the confused Dafne, before she came back in her own clothes and debriefed the interested group. Later, after she got the job and became a beloved clinic director/supervisor to an adoring group of students, I commented to another student that my mother was shy. I remember the woman laughing and saying that my mother was absolutely not shy if it was the woman she knew.
My strongest memory of working with my father was when he was the unofficial chair of my dissertation committee. I had a very confusing dissertation topic, and I had to learn how to do computer coding, put electrodes all over my subjects’ heads, and understand a theory of intelligence and brain waves. I used my parents’ test, the K-AIT, as my cognitive measure of intelligence, and he agreed to spend a great deal of time helping me as I went through this most painful of processes. My Dad read every word of every draft, covering the pages in red marks, correcting APA style and grammar with the knowledge and ease I wish I had. My own chair understood evoked potentials and computers but did not take the time to do much more than ensure the content and the methodology were correct. I ended up feeling very happy to have a quality dissertation, and I felt pretty calm going into my oral defense (it all hit me later, but I did well). Because my parents were faculty, both were allowed into the usually restricted space to listen in. My very proudest moment was when my mother came up to me after, and said that she knew I was smart, but she really didn’t understand how smart until my talk.
When I decided to go from clinical work to an academic career, I was in an adjacent career to my family as a forensic psychologist who worked in a Criminal Justice program. However, even though my brother (in creativity as a cognitive/developmental psychologist) and parents in educational psychology, we were all still able to collaborate. The ability to collaborate has enriched our relationships and we have all been able to appreciate each other’s unique skill sets. Over the years, I have written a chapter for one of James’ (many) books in The Dark Side of Creativity, and I have to admit that it was the most fun experience to learn about the creative ways inmates can do almost anything behind bars. I also learned more about James’ and others’ theories of creativity and to be part of an amazing book. (I actually just got a request for this chapter from a professor at NYU).
I got to help develop self-report measures with my Dad (on juvenile risk and juvenile delinquency) for a chapter we wrote together. I was able to combine my forensic research on risk factors and juvenile offenders with creating a new assessment. I also got to work more clinically with my mother, as we collaborated on a learning disability, cognitive, and diagnostic assessments that would be a case study in a new textbook. I assessed a friend’s child who had complex learning disabilities, and my mother observed and wrote up her insightful behavioral analysis. I really appreciated getting to work with my family so that we could share our research/psychology connection.