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“Back in 2008, I was on a very popular TV show. Is anybody able to guess the name?”
Any confidence Millie had gained upon walking onto campus began to seep back out of her skin. When her father invited her to this lecture, she’d prepared all sorts of questions for Dr. Wilkins – “How did human brain evolution truly compare to that of insects?” “Exactly how much is the Internet destroying our attention span?” “Is the food on campus any better than our high school cafeteria slop?”
If he was going to build his whole lecture off yet another show Millie had never found time to watch, she may as well give up on impressing him. All people seemed to care about was the stuff you watched online, and even then, you weren’t supposed to care about it after a week. She doubted any of her peers even knew what was on TV fourteen years ago.
Despite Millie’s assumptions, she soon found herself in a sea of outstretched hands. Dr. Wilkins notices a girl who isn’t Millie. “Is it Dork Fishing? ” she asked, her mall-stand earrings glimmering in the light.
The doctor gave an awkward laugh. “Er, no? But you’re close! It is a reality program!”
More hands shot up, and Millie felt shorter than ever. Dr. Wilkins pointed to a gentleman in a lopsided baseball cap, three seats to Millie’s left. “It’s Total Drama , right?” he said, not even bothering to sit up straight.
Dr. Wilkins pointed his pen at the slouchy teen. “Bingo!” The room filled with approving murmurs and the telltale “oh!” of sudden recognition. Millie nodded hard enough to make her smile believable. It was not completely dishonest – the name was vaguely familiar. One of her old Chinchilly DVDs had an ad for a “Best of Chris McLean” compilation set, but she’d learned to skip it once her dad warned her to “never get involved in that shlock.” (Just as she’d also later learned to watch cartoons in private, lest to avoid the shame of “rotting” her own brain.)
Dr. Wilkins stepped aside to bring down a giant projector screen. “Yes, at the tender age of sixteen, I was a contestant on the fourth season of the classic reality competition, Total Drama. ” An image flashed behind him: a short, scrawny young man standing in an outhouse, falling backwards in a pathetic fashion. “To say I was out of my comfort zone is an understatement.” Another click, another projected image: an even smaller Dr. Wilkins, smiling behind layers of spherical plastic. “Due to chronic health issues resulting from a… complicated fetal development, I spent most of my childhood raised inside a plastic bubble. My mother dictated everything I ate, wore, and read. I witnessed the outside world through a translucent veneer. And… it wasn’t that bad.” Dr. Wilkins shrugged. “I had periods of ‘outside time’ at home. I could play in my living room and backyard. My mother read to me regularly, stimulating my linguistic development. By the age of ten, I’d read every book in the house twenty-three times each.”
Wow. The image of a child growing up so sheltered truly fascinated Millie. And she thought her parents tracking her gluten intake was overbearing!
“But the older I got, the more aware I became that living in a bubble wasn’t… ideal. Working in a corner away from my snickering classmates wasn’t really enriching – and having studied neural development, I knew that was a big problem.” Dr. Wilkins switched to the next screen, displaying a grey-and-white graphic of a brain. “Adolescence is a peak period for brain development. When puberty begins, it brings a rush of hormones – and not just the reproductive kind.” Immature giggles scattered around the auditorium as parts of Dr. Wilkins’ diagram lit up. “Your dopamine levels spike, pushing you to seek new adventures and receive new rewards. Hence why so many of you are drawn to pastimes that, ironically, risk real damage to your brain cells.”
Millie chuckled to herself. Her classmates probably didn’t even realize Dr. Wilkins was talking about them. Their attention spans were so fried, the majority of them had probably tuned out by now in favor of watching poorly-cropped gory cartoons spliced together with hydraulic press videos. It was comforting to share a room with at least one other person who cared about their own brain.
“But what I learned from my time on Total Drama ,” the professor continued, “is that we need these adverse experiences to challenge us to grow. Otherwise, when we’re faced with smaller challenges down the line, we won’t have the emotional capacity to handle them.” He changed to an image of him fighting a giant purple spider. “I used to be terrified of spiders long past an appropriate age. But thanks to Total Drama , I have no problem even when handling venomous arachnids in a lab setting!”
Millie shuddered. She’d stick to the soft sciences, thank you very much.
“I got hands-on experience I never could have discovered anywhere else. And as jarring and traumatic as it occasionally was, I got such an adrenaline rush from simply being anywhere but my bubble…” He clicked over to a video of a boy in an iron suit pinning down a football player. “...it carried me to the finale and scored me a million dollars.”
Applause from some of the audience. Millie applauded as well, even if she wasn’t exactly clear what had happened on that show. Not to follow the crowd, just because she felt the professor deserved the support.
“Which is why it’s important for our brains to balance both excitatory and inhibitory functions – push us forward on the path, but keep us from jumping off the deep end. And right now, as you transition into adulthood, your brains are developing more and more neural pathways to improve communication for these functions.” He stuck his arms out in glee. “You’re metamorphosing before my very eyes!”
This logic felt obvious to Millie in theory, but the example the professor used confused her. Up went her hand.
Dr. Wilkins adjusted his glasses as he caught sight of her hand in the air. “Yes, the one in the back, you have a question?”
“Yes, and first, I just want to say I’m really loving this lecture.” She heard light groans surrounding her. Whatever. That was the sound of grey matter turning to mush. “My question is… why would someone so young challenge themselves with a reality show instead of building up to something like that gradually?”
Dr. Wilkins closed his eyes and nodded. He seemed… amused? Disappointed? Millie felt her heart twist up. It was different when an adult didn’t like her.
“The show wasn’t for everybody, no. But I think it attracts a certain kind of individual. It’s hard to pin down exactly who they are… but I suspect those who struggle to regulate stimulation, receiving either too little engagement or too much of it at home, are more likely to be drawn to a high-intensity, high-risk game show, which is in turn designed to engage viewers for several weeks, in which you’re practically guaranteed to form social bonds of all kinds with your peers. And of course, that’s compounded with the fact Total Drama employs teenagers, who as I said before, are in a particularly vulnerable state of mind. That is not an accusation or condemnation of the producers, of course!” His eyes darted around the room nervously, as if seeking out the lens of a camera. “Simply an observation.”
“Wow,” Millie said, perhaps a bit too loudly, as multiple nearby bullies repeated the word in a tone she hoped was exaggerated. She tried to tune them out and summarize the professor’s response in her notebook. But unfortunately, she struggled to pay full attention to the rest of the lecture, even though his theories of cognitive development still enthralled her. She was too busy inside her own brain.
Was she challenging herself enough? Was reading one biography per week and crocheting two cozies a month enough to keep her brain on the right path? She set strict limits for screen time to avoid excess stimulation, but she’d never thought about the opposite problem.
At the end of the lecture, while all other students were eager to get to lunch, Millie awkwardly weaved through them, following the handrail down to the stage. She speedwalked to the stage, nearly tripping over the microphone’s wire, and caught Dr. Wilkins just as he was stepping down.
“Excuse me, professor!” She stood before him. Even slightly hunched over and panting, she was still taller than this adult man. It was as if his body had given up on growing out of his bubble. Only his long fuzzy beard seemed determined to physically showcase his adulthood. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” Millie stood up straight and brushed herself off, then curtsied to show respect, despite not even wearing a skirt. “I just wanted to talk more about your lecture.”
“Sure!” The professor lit up, matching Millie in eagerness. “I’m not in any rush. I don’t have to get back to the lab for another hour.”
Millie cleared her throat, buying time as she organized her thoughts into a mature coherent point for discussion. “Your explanation of neuroplasticity was really interesting. And I loved hearing your perspective as a reality show contestant. Have you ever considered gathering your old castmates for some sort of study on their development?”
Dr. Wilkins laughed a bit, but again he seemed nervous. “Well, I’ve been informally studying some of them since the very beginning. In fact, one of my friends, a man I met on the show, taught me a lot about Dissociative Identity Disorder. I recommend looking him up if you’re interested in the condition – he’s made a lot of great work about growing up with it, including a really compelling independent movie!”
“Wow, thanks!” It was rare to find movies about mental illness that weren’t creepy. That offended her as both a psychologist and as a coward.
“But when it comes to the particular relationships between these contestants and the show… eh….” He rubbed his arm. Nervous again. “I’m not really at liberty to speculate on that.”
“Why not? It sounds like an academic goldmine!”
He sighed. “Let’s just say my curiosity as a scientist is weighed down by a particularly ironclad contract.”
Ah. Figured. She’d seen McLean’s name float around the news in recent years, and his face “graced” the covers of many tabloids she’d viewed against her will, so he wasn’t immune to criticism. But even a renowned psychologist and professor – and former millionaire, apparently – didn’t have the money to go up against The Media. Or at least, not the courage.
“Besides,” Dr. Wilkins continued, “the best way to perform a study of this nature would be to observe them in their environment. Relying on self-reports from my former contestants wouldn’t be reliable, especially when at least one of them suffers from dissociative amnesia, another struggles with narcissism, and another has radiation contaminating her brain.” He paused. “Just to clarify, none of them are my patients, just my friends, so that’s not a PIPEDA violation.”
Millie nodded. “It’s too bad we can’t go back in time and observe them in the act.”
Dr. Wilkins stroked his beard. “You know… I’ve heard musings that they’re casting a revival of the series soon.”
“In 2022?” Millie’s brow furrowed. “Don’t we know better now?”
“People want to see what they want to see!” He slipped Millie a business card. “If you’re interested in more information, you can email me, and I’ll forward you the audition form the minute it drops.”
“Wow.” Millie took the card and eyed it lovingly. “So professional!”
“Are you considering joining the show?”
“Ah, no.” Millie shoved the card in her pocket. “That’s not really my thing.”
“Hey, I didn’t think it was my thing either.” Dr. Wilkins picked up his briefcase. “You’ll be surprised where your own brain can lead you if you just give it a bit of direction!”
A ringtone blared from Dr. Wilkins’ coat pocket. He answered it. “Hello? …What do you mean , the brown recluse containment lock is broken?! … Look, just put on the protective suit and – okay, I’ll get the bait.” He hung up and told Millie, “Sorry, young lady, there’s an emergency at the lab. Best of luck!” And off he ran.
Millie dug the card back out of her pocket, folding out the fresh creases before they became permanent. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take advantage of her brain’s plasticity and have some new experiences. And the best way to put her potential to use would be to help others understand their own potential.
By taking an up-close look at kids who were probably wasting theirs .