In Defense of Shy People

In my childhood years, back in the Jurassic era, shyness was regarded as some kind of a character flaw or at least a social hurdle to be leaped. Role models, heroes, leaders, and popular people were obvious extroverts. We presumed that life was easier for them. For the rest of us, we would have the added challenge of overcoming our natural inclination to not assert ourselves. For example, I attended a very large high school where a person could become relatively unknown easily. As a conscious choice I went to a small college where I would have better mathematics odds to become more socially involved and to be a campus leader.

I have no doubt that for some people shyness is some kind of interpersonal pathology. For most introverts, however, who and what they are is not some dysfunctional characteristic that needs correcting. It is, in fact, a personality type. Personality types are neither innately good or innately bad; they just are. (See instruments such as the Myers-Briggs assessment, the DISC, etc.) Some of us are designed to draw energy in life from within rather than outside of us. It doesn't mean we don't like people, nor does it mean that we should not push ourselves outside of our comfort zone from time to time in order to be more gregarious. However, nor does it mean that something is wrong with us when we are quiet for an extended time or perfectly content with our own company. There are advantages and challenges to every personality type. Introverted people have the disadvantage of not having the natural comfort in groups of people which is the blessing of extroverted people. Yet introverted people tend to not be a approval-needy as some extroverts can be, and a few deeper relationships comes more naturally to them than they do to extroverts.

Still, in many groups, processes, and organizations, we tend to presume an extrovert's world. Take my world, for example - the world of weekly worship in a church. If, for whatever reason, a person chooses to attend a worship service for the very first time, he or she is likely to enter a world that seems, on the surface, to be an extroversion extravaganza. (It isn't, really; but it will seem that way to someone who is new.) People are greeting one another like they've known each other all their lives. Familiar faces beam at the sight of familiar faces. Conversations seem to be continuations of familiar topics, as people clump together in their regular, weekly, interpersonal groups. In contrast to this, in many churches, the "guest" gets a smile, a bulletin or handout, a "thank you for coming; here's your seat" and that's it. An extrovert might get past all this, and push her or his way into the life of the congregation. For an introvert, you might as well put Mt. Everest in front of him/her and say, "Climb it alone. Good luck."

Just something about which to think. I'll see you around the next bend in the river. Or I might just paddle for while by myself. Don't take it personally, extroverts.