Thicker Than Water: Eric's Story

Thicker Than Water: Eric's Story

By Nonjabulo Mlangeni

In the latest blog on our website, we profile Eric Whittaker, a teacher and artist on the West Coast. Eric talks XXY, ADHD and his journey to fatherhood and fulfillment.

Eric Whittaker's not sure he believes in purpose, yet it's abundantly clear that he's found it. From where I sit, he's wading in it, even up to his elbows in it. As a teacher, he shows no signs of the burnout or jadedness that can come with the field. Though it's certainly hard work, it's work that he's built for.

In dealing with students, there's a thoughtfulness that comes easily to him. Little things he thinks to do without being asked. Subtle ways to show he's in their corner.

Being a talented illustrator, he often draws while they work on tasks. Instead of doing this at his desk, he moves around, discreetly positioning himself near kids who may need extra help.

He knows that some don't have the courage to raise their hands with the whole class watching. But when he's a shoulder tap away, doodling on a page, it seems to lower the stakes.

"Kids will need help with stuff but not exactly ask for it," he says. "But I can see they're struggling in the class, so I'll sit down next to them. I'll have them start the assignment and just draw while they're working on it. If they have questions, I'm right there."

He's found that this works well with the least engaged students and those that struggle to pass. It's also an opportunity to talk a little and learn about them as people.

It's a striking point. I've interviewed many adults with XXY who struggled in school but lacked the courage to ask for help. In a perfect world, teachers would have noticed they needed it and provided it in ways that preserved their dignity.

Eric understands that because he strives to be the kind of teacher that he would've loved to have.

"I think I learned a lot from stuff I've experienced in the past," he says. "So I know how I'd want to be treated as a student, with care and respect."

In some ways, Eric himself fell through the cracks. Looking back, he showed ADHD symptoms as early as grade school. He struggled with focus and task completion. But, because he wasn't hyperactive, it didn't raise alarms for the adults around him.

Breaking Patterns

On the social front, Eric had some trouble with perception. Like many men with XXY, he had multiple experiences that made him question his ability to judge people's character. Moments when he realized that someone he considered a friend didn't consider him at all. But he paid attention, noticed the patterns and learned from the mistakes.

"Now I'm the expert at sniffing out if somebody's true or not."

Self-awareness was the gift that kept giving. With time, Eric learned how to be internally motivated. He knows that his default is to quit once something stops being a challenge, but he doesn't choose to stay in that cycle. He thinks about the fruit of his labor, and uses that as motivation to move ahead.

Today, he's seeing things through. From producing beats, to stand-up comedy, to drawing pieces for his first coloring book. A far cry from the kid who rarely saw the finish line.

"To stay motivated, I think about the end result and visualize what it will feel like when I'm done."

It's the sort of thing you learn just by paying attention. Taking an honest look at your patterns and seeing what your life is trying to teach you. And so Eric learned. What worked and what didn't. What he could do and what he was good at.

Like many men with XXY, he had natural artistic talent. Perhaps less common was his extremely outgoing personality. But the latter helped him develop strong friendships in his teens and helps him connect with youths in his care today.

Diagnosed at 13

Eric doesn't fully recall the factors that led to his Klinefelter's diagnosis. What he does know is that there was no specific issue or event that raised concerns. It's more likely that he'd gone to the doctor for a standard check-up, and a test panel showed something that caught his eye.

However it started, it ended with Eric and his mother in a doctor's office, hearing he had a rare condition. Being a freshly-minted teen, he was too young to fully process the information.

"I just remember them saying I wouldn't be able to have kids, and I said 'okay, cool.' I definitely wasn't mature enough to even consider having kids, so it didn't bother me."

Other men who were diagnosed early have shared similar accounts of being emotionally detached from the diagnosis. For some, it generally takes time to process difficult news and to feel the emotions that come with it.

"It's the same way for me," says Eric. "If it's bad news, you kind of disassociate. It's like it's entering your brain, but you're not processing it. You're almost compartmentalizing it."

ADHD

For some reason, there was no follow-up to the XXY diagnosis, and no action taken. It would ultimately take nearly two decades for Eric to start testosterone therapy.

But within that time span, there were many wins. He finished high school and got his associate's degree. After working for a few years, he got a bachelor's in communications.

He remained largely uninformed about Klinefelter Syndrome during this time. He also remained undiagnosed for ADHD. But, in the years after he graduated, he started to suspect that he may have it.

Multiple things led him to think so. First, he had some trouble retaining employment. In the first two years after graduation, he worked at three different IT companies.

"From what I understand, being let go from multiple places is a common ADHD experience. Because you come in firing on all cylinders, with all these great ideas, but these places have established practices. So it can alienate people. They're like, 'we've done it this way for 20 years, and you haven't paid your dues yet.'"

Eric also noticed that he didn't have the same concept of time as his peers.

"They processed time in a linear fashion, so they could track and predict how long certain tasks would take, which was part of the job. They could say, 'this'll take 15 minutes.' But I'd be like, 'I don't know, I think it'll take 20,' and it ends up taking 40. Everybody else could do it, but I was constantly coached about it."

Once he started researching ADHD, everything began to make sense. Ultimately, he didn't realize he had it until his early 30s, at which point he also discovered the connection between ADHD and Klinefelter's. This revelation prompted him to finally start learning more about XXY.

Love and Marriage

Shortly after graduation, Eric met the woman who'd become his wife. They'd each been invited to a mutual friend's party, though neither of them initially planned to attend.

"It was New Year's, but we were both thinking that we just wouldn't go out. In the end, we changed our minds, and that's the night we met."

A few days later, they went on a bowling date, and Eric knew he'd reached a turning point.

"We just clicked," he remembers. "It was comfortable talking to her, and she just has that personality. I remember messaging my best friend at the time and saying, 'I think I'm gonna marry this girl.'"

It was Eric's wife who noticed that he'd make a good teacher. To test the waters, he took a substitute position at a high school and instantly knew he'd found his lane.

When the pandemic hit, he used the time to get his master's and quickly returned to the classroom. He's held his current position for several years and is grateful that he can be himself in it.

"My creativity is welcomed [here], because I use it to help students learn. And they appreciate my authenticity. They know they can have a real conversation with me."

And Baby Makes Three

Shortly before the pandemic, Eric and his spouse began trying for a baby. When the MicroTESE proved unsuccessful, they went the donor route. The in vitro fertilization (IVF) worked on the second try.

Today he has a 7-year-old daughter. She's now old enough to take interest in how she came to exist. Thankfully, her parents had plenty of time to prepare.

"The clinic we went to actually gave us a therapy session on the donor process," he says. "They shared how we could explain it to her when she gets old enough and gave us a kid's book that addresses it in an age-appropriate way."

Despite all these helpful resources, Eric still found it hard to talk to her about it. I ask what was so challenging, and learn that it wasn't just one thing. There were layers of feelings, worries and fears, rolled into one and boiling over.

In any tough conversation or emotional moment, it's never the facts that rattle you. It's the inner dialogue about what they mean and what they say about you. Your own disappointments and anxieties. Your own heartbreak about wanting more of a hand in making the child that's staring back at you.

"I think it's that feeling [of not being able to] pass on my genes," says Eric. "Or that fear that she might eventually think, 'you're not my real dad.'"

It's not an irrational concern. In speaking to men and women who've gone through the donor process, I've seen it bring a range of thoughts to the surface. Even ones that make them feel petty or guilty.

Am I wrong for wishing I had a biological connection to my child? Shouldn't I just be grateful to have a child at all?

But thoughts like these aren't cause for guilt. It's just human nature. You always want more of the people you love. Shared connections. Shared interests. Shared DNA.

But, for Eric and many others, there comes a moment of truth. When you look at your child and know that nothing could make them any more yours than they already are.

After all, blood may be thicker than water, but love reigns supreme.