Educated: a review

It has been almost a year since I blogged, and almost two years since I blogged a book review, but Tara Westover's autobiography Educated had my mind racing in ways that only writing about it can calm. Educated is somehow harrowing without drama, and loving without blindness. It is about family, and memory, and home, but it is also about the power of an educated mind, especially as a tool for self-creation and a road to freedom. 

As someone with a Humanities education, I have long been confronted by questions about the utility of my education. In response I have tried to articulate - without Westover's power and clarity - that the value of my education is not in my paycheque, but in my understanding of the world around me and of myself (not to mention, critical thinking, research, and writing skills are hugely marketable, but not the point). Like others who have studied literature, culture, history - or more to the point - historiography, and philosophy, information helps me understand myself and the world. People are confusing; the more I read, the more I feel like maybe it's not just me who is confused by them and the more answers I find to that confusion. It was personally affirming to follow along as Tara Westover's journey proved the same.

Right - Tara Westover. Tara was the youngest of seven children in her family, all raised on the mountainside of Buck's Peak in Idaho. Her family are Mormons, but more centrally are off-grid survivalists. Her father saw every arm of the government as a threat, so the children were never sent to school, never allowed to see a doctor, and subjected to seemingly unrelenting indoctrination by a father who may have had undiagnosed and untreated mental illness (Tara suggests either bi-polar disorder or schizophrenia, but again - he was never diagnosed). At least one of Tara's brothers was a serial abuser of his younger siblings, subjecting them to psychological terror and harsh physical pain. Her mom may have wanted to help, but didn't. The family's hard life scratching out a junkyard existence on the mountainside results in several serious injuries, including untreated traumatic brain injuries of the abusive brother and mother - that's a whole different and important topic.

What struck me from cover to cover is how much Tara loves her family, and how that (misplaced?) loyalty in many ways is both the power behind and a barrier to Tara's growth. At 16, having never stepped foot in a classroom and been homeschooled in name only (the house had about 5 books, including the book of Mormon, and the children taught each other to read, but not much more), Tara gained acceptance to Brigham Young University with a brother's help and insistence. Tara's financial reliance on a scholarship motivated her early success in university, but no amount of poverty can explain how she blossomed in an academic setting. The psychological impact of Tara's difficult childhood, not to mention the deterioration of her family relationships as the story progresses, is recognized by her roommates, friends, her bishop, and professors, but that aforementioned loyalty keeps her from seeking help freely.

Despite all of that, Tara completes her undergraduate degree at BYU, receives a Gates Scholarship to Cambridge, completes a fellowship at Harvard, and ultimately earns a PhD from Cambridge, all by the age of 28. That's impressive stuff. Even more impressive, however, is that Tara was able to free her mind from inconceivably harsh indoctrination that had young Tara doubting every thought and action. As she says,

“I actually believed that I was crazy. I have a theory that all abuse, no matter what kind of abuse it is, is foremost an assault on the mind. I think if you’re going to abuse someone you really have to convince them of two things. First you have to normalise what you’re doing, convince them that it’s not that bad. And the second thing is to convince them that they deserve it in some way."

This, for those who are unclear, is the ultimate description and evil of gaslighting - being brought to question your own reality. That Tara overcame that is even more impressive to me than her academic success.

Westover is a powerful writer. You can smell the fresh air of Buck's Peak and feel the warmth of her horses' breath as sharply as you can feel the cold sharp blade of the knife her brother places in her hand. If you like beautiful, powerful writing, you can read this as a story. If you want to better understand family, loyalty, self-development, and how hard it is to overcome our pasts, you'll find no better read.