The Animal School Fable and ADHD: Giving Yourself Permission to Swim

I don’t remember when I learned about the Animal School fable. What I do remember is how much it resonated with me. I wonder what about it will resonate with you. You’ll find my thoughts following the fable.

The Animal School

"Once upon a time the animals decided they must do something heroic to meet the problems of a “new world” so they organized a school. They had adopted an activity curriculum consisting of running, climbing, swimming and flying.

To make it easier to administer the curriculum, all the animals took all the subjects.

The duck was excellent in swimming. In fact, better than his instructor. But he made only passing grades in flying and was very poor in running. Since he was slow in running, he had to stay after school and also drop swimming in order to practice running. This was kept up until his webbed feet were badly worn and he was only average in swimming. But average was acceptable in school so nobody worried about that, except the duck.

The rabbit started at the top of the class in running but had a nervous breakdown because of so much makeup work in swimming.

The squirrel was excellent in climbing until he developed frustration in the flying

class where his teacher made him start from the ground up instead of the treetop down. He also developed a “charlie horse” from overexertion and then got a C in climbing and D in running.

The eagle was a problem child and was disciplined severely. In the climbing class, he beat all the others to the top of the tree but insisted on using his own way to get there.

At the end of the year, an abnormal eel that could swim exceeding well and also run, climb and fly a little had the highest average and was valedictorian.

The prairie dogs stayed out of school and fought the tax levy because the administration would not add digging and burrowing to the curriculum. They apprenticed their children to a badger and later joined the groundhogs and gophers to start a successful private school."

This fable, The Animal School, for many ADHDers, hits painfully close to home. In the fable, the animals are all required to take the same standardized curriculum: running, climbing, swimming, and flying. In the end, every animal’s natural talents are stifled, and instead of becoming their best selves, they become exhausted, frustrated, and mediocre at everything.

Sound familiar?

Many ADHDers go through life feeling like that fish being told to climb a tree. School, work, and society at large send the message that we should be able to do everything—keep a tidy home, manage schedules, be on time, stay organized, follow multi-step instructions—all while ignoring the things we naturally excel at. The struggle isn’t just about effort; it’s about being in an environment that doesn't recognize or support the way we’re wired.

The "Shoulds" That Hold Us Back

ADHDers often carry the weight of unrealistic expectations.

“I should be able to keep my house in order.” “I should be able to remember appointments without reminders.” “I should be able to do things on time, even when I’m not interested in them.”

But where do these "shoulds" come from? They come from a system designed for neurotypicals. A system that prioritizes well-roundedness over specialization. But the truth is, nobody is good at everything. Neurotypicals have their strengths, just as we have ours. And yet, instead of being encouraged to develop those strengths, ADHDers are often pushed to fix their weaknesses at the expense of what makes them exceptional.

Understanding Natural Strengths

The world needs people with different strengths, but modern society tends to overlook the unique contributions of ADHDers. Our traits—curiosity, risk-taking, hyperfocus, pattern recognition, and creative problem-solving—are the same traits that drive innovation. They’re the reason many of history’s great inventors, scientists, and artists were neurodivergent.

Imagine asking a farmer—someone wired for routine, order, and long-term planning—to become a hunter. They wouldn’t instinctively notice the tracks of their prey or hear the subtle shift in the wind that signals danger. Just as farmers are essential for a stable society, hunters were once essential for survival. And many ADHDers are still wired for that role.

ADHD Is Not a Disorder—It’s a Difference

Some cultures recognize the value of neurodivergence. In certain societies, people with ADHD traits are revered for their contributions. The reason ADHD diagnoses are more common in countries like the U.S. and Australia isn’t necessarily because there are more ADHDers—it’s because our society is structured in a way that makes it difficult for us to thrive.

Western society places a heavy emphasis on well-roundedness—on being competent at all tasks rather than exceptional at a few. But historically, societies thrived because of specialization. No one expected the best hunter to also be the best farmer, or the best healer to also be the best builder. Each person contributed in the way they were wired to. ADHD traits—risk-taking, impulsivity, hyperfocus, innovation—were essential in hunter-gatherer societies. Without those willing to take risks, to explore new lands, to push boundaries, human progress would have stalled.

And this is where an interesting theory comes in: the reason ADHD is more commonly diagnosed in places like the U.S. and Australia could be tied to the fact that the people who migrated there were often the risk-takers—the ones willing to leave everything behind for the unknown. ADHD is highly heritable, and those with ADHD traits may have been naturally drawn to others like them, leading to even more neurodivergent individuals being born in these populations.

Imagine the traits required to uproot from everything familiar, to face an uncertain future, to problem-solve in completely new environments. The boldness, adaptability, and resilience needed for such a journey mirror the strengths of ADHDers today.

In some cultures, these traits are still revered. In modern society, however, the same wiring that once made us invaluable can now feel like a disadvantage—simply because the environment has changed.

But the truth is, we don’t need to change who we are to succeed—we need to change how we see ourselves. Rather than forcing ourselves to be “good at everything,” we should focus on excelling in what we do best. Instead of feeling like we’re falling short, we embrace that we are wired for a different kind of success—one that values creativity, problem-solving, and innovation. The problem isn’t ADHD itself.

When an ADHDer is in the right environment—one that supports their natural strengths, creativity, and energy—they don’t just function; they flourish. Instead of struggling to conform to systems that weren’t built for them, they can lean into their unique abilities.

Whether it’s a job that allows them to follow their interests, a workspace that accommodates movement and stimulation needs, or a community that values their way of thinking, the difference is life-changing. It’s why so many ADHDers feel like they’ve "failed" when, in reality, they've just been trying to thrive in the wrong setting.

What kind of environment helps you thrive? The problem isn't ADHD, the problem is a world that asks fish to climb trees instead of letting them swim.

Giving Yourself Permission to Swim

If you’ve ever felt like you’re failing because you can’t "get it together" the way others seem to, it’s time to reframe the story. What if, instead of trying to be "good at everything," you focused on what you’re already good at?

What if, instead of forcing yourself to fit into a mold that wasn’t made for you, you gave yourself permission to thrive in the areas where you naturally excel? What if, instead of feeling “less than” for struggling with organization, you embraced your gift for seeing the big picture?

What if you stopped trying to climb trees—and started swimming, flying, or running in the direction that feels right for you? The world needs swimmers just as much as it needs climbers, runners, and fliers. And when you lean into your strengths, you’re not just surviving—you’re thriving.

So, what are you naturally great at? And how can you do more of that?