One of the most interesting things about having A home from school, other than the exponential increase in laundry and dirty dishes, is the new depth of conversations that we have about everything. His exposure to different courses of study and people from all over the country and the world have added a new level of perspective to everything that he thought he knew.

Our family has a long tradition of arguing for fun. As a young child, I would sometimes dread visits to my uncle’s house because we were always grilled about what we were learning in school and then questioned vigorously about any subject we brought up. Over time, we learned to be selective about what subjects we introduced, learning which ones would lead my uncle on his own tangents and which ones would turn into more questions for us.

That all changed after my freshman year of college. I finally felt sure that maybe I’d finally learned some esoteric knowledge that would silence the questions and send my uncle digging back through his archives to refresh his own understanding. That never happened, but our conversations grew enthusiastically more heated as I was now equipped to ask my own questions in retaliation. The reward was the unrequited glee on my uncle’s face as he would thump his cane and interject excitedly.

A has always been a curious student and I expected that to continue as he encountered a whole new environment of people, subjects and experiences. Neither of us have been disappointed. He has enjoyed his chosen subject matters and has started digging into them with gusto, but beyond that, he has had the opportunity to meet people from all around the world, from a variety of different cultures, religious backgrounds and countries.

On top of that, a lot of his introductory courses are challenging him to think in different ways. One of the most impactful readings that he did this semester, and a topic that he’s expressed interest in before, was about survivorship bias. This is something that I also learned about during my time as a history major. History tends to be written by the winners. Anecdotal stories tend to be told by those who survive. If we only listen to those stories, we may get a false impression that whatever the situation was can be survived by anyone.

A’s favorite example of this, and probably the first time he heard about it, was a study done on World War II planes. They examined the planes that did come back and where they took fire. The important part of the study was the planes that did not come back. The planes that were shot and came back showed where an aircraft could sustain damage and still fly. The research proposed reinforcing the areas of the returned planes where no damage was done, as they inferred that planes that were hit there did not survive.

A and I ran into the phrase “and I turned out fine,” at many gatherings over the holidays. Both of us immediately ask the question, “but what about those that didn’t turn out fine.” A has a lot of experience being a survivor. Treatment for his rare heart condition has improved greatly over the years, but there are still many complications that can arise. For people who aren’t familiar with those complications, they may see A and think that his condition isn’t serious because “he turned out fine.” Unfortunately, over the course of his treatments and hospital visits, we’ve met many other patients who didn’t turn out quite so fine.

Social media and the World Wide Web have given many “survivors” a platform that they didn’t have previously. People build entire online personas around eschewing science, vaccines and even some basic hygiene practices, all while amply demonstrating how “fine” they’re turning out. It’s easy to edit in or edit out the times that things don’t turn out quite so “fine.”

I like that A is learning to ask “who didn’t turn out fine” or “who might not have turned out fine.” I don’t know a family that wasn’t impacted in some way by COVID-19, and yet, I still hear people saying, “I had COVID and I turned out fine” or “I didn’t get vaccinated and I turned out fine.” It’s very easy to find close examples of people who didn’t turn out fine at all, and yet collectively, many people still seem to think that recommended precautions were overblown.

A and I have also had discussions about how to find those voices that are no longer here to speak for themselves. We’ve talked about ways to counteract those single case, personal experience anecdotes. Those answers don’t come as easily. Maybe his next semesters will bring more of that process to light.

At any rate, it’s been a joy to watch his mind engaging and trying to tackle the problems of the world. I love that he and his roommates and classmates sit around and talk about how to fix things in the wee small hours of the morning, and that he brings his musings home and continues them. From the dorm room to our kitchen table, it’s an exciting process to watch. I think I finally understand why my uncle enjoyed those visits so much.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News