Heartbreaking New York Times ADD Article

Don’t Drink the Kool-ade

by Madelyn Griffith-Haynie, CTP, CMC, ACT, MCC, SCAC

Another wonderful graphic courtesy of aritist/educator Phillip Martin

“Ritalin, like all medications, can be useful when used properly and dangerous when used improperly. Why is it so difficult for so many people to hold to that middle ground?”
~ Dr. Edward Hallowell

Regarding the opinion piece “Ritalin Gone Wrong” by Alan Sroufe, Ph.D.
(NY Times, Jan. 29, 2012):

• You don’t have to believe in medication.
• You don’t have to take it.
• You don’t have to give it to your kids.

You don’t EVEN have to do unbiased research before you ring in with an opinion on medication or anything else having to do with ADD/ADHD.

HOWEVER, when you’re writing a piece to be published in a newspaper with the stature of The New York Times, it is simply unprofessional – of the writer, the editors, and the paper itself — to publish personal OPINION in a manner that will lead many to conclude that the piece quotes scientific fact.  

For a rebuttal, please take the time to read Dr. Hallowell’s blog article in response to Sroufe (linked to his quote, above, and in the “related content” list below). Nothing I could say along those lines could be nearly as eloquent or effective – or charge neutral – as his words.

This post will take another tact, just as soon as I get my feelings off my chest.

I’m appalled.  And bitterly disappointed in what I have always
considered MY hometown paper, regardless of where else in
the United States I lay me down to sleep.

What Happened to the Times?

It’s ironic that this recent article appears in the very paper where, on October 11, 1987, an article in their Magazine Section led to my own diagnosis — and the medication that saved my life.

The day I discovered that article that altered the trajectory of my being forever, I had just spent an hour on the telephone with my best friend Robin, a therapist, sobbing hysterically because my latest attempt to organize my office created such chaos that I found myself in the middle of the room holding a sheet of paper with, literally, no clear space to put it down.

I had, as I’ve learned to describe it, “Boggled.”  Action was impossible.  My whole being was on “TILT,” to use an old pinball term. I was finally desperate enough to stop trying to look good and tell the truth about what life was like for me.

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