Eminence is a Result, Not a Goal

‎"outstanding achievement or eminence ought to be the chief goal of gifted education."
From Paula Olszewski-Kubilius, et al.

In the world of education, there is little that is more tragic, in my opinion, than seeing a child who has great aptitude turn into one who shuns opportunity and challenge because expectation has created a burden that is too heavy for them to bear. And I reject this goal for gifted education outright - because "outstanding achievement or eminence" is a burden that is too heavy for most of our gifted children.

Someone defined eminence as the child of passion and intelligence. It seems to be a efficacious goal for a group of children who, by anyone's definition, possess high intelligence and quite often a great deal of passion to go with it. 

But what about the child who can't limit her interests enough to find a place of mastery? What about the child who is fascinated by a subject about which nobody else cares? Or the child who doesn't desire a place in the limelight, but simply wants to do interesting stuff and be left alone? 

What does that pressure do to a child who begins to think all he is valued for is his brain?

And, how many people truly become eminent? If we send children through school with the full understanding that we expect them to be like Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer, Nikola Tesla, or any number of names that go down in history - what happens to those children once they realize how unlikely it is that they will be? Even for those who take all the chances, who make all the right moves - maybe they won't be in the right place at the right time when the light bulb turns on, or the apple falls from the tree. Maybe they go through life always feeling like a failure because they haven't achieved The Thing they were told was their goal, their destiny. What could have been a full and meaningful life turns into a wasteland.

Once you put that level of expectation on a person, can you take it back? What happens when the glass shatters and a fragile ego, built upon expectations put upon them from misguided parents, teachers, or friends, can't be put back together? 

I know a lot of truly gifted people (some of them quite highly gifted) - and I can count on one hand how many of them could be considered eminent. In fact, make that one finger - and I'm being generous with my allocation of "friends" at this point just to get that one. There are some who have localized eminence or a reputation of expertise amongst their friends and colleagues. They are well-respected. But eminence? No. But you know what - they are all doing things that they love. They are contributing to their world in unique and wonderful ways - sometimes through their chosen career, and sometimes through other activities. And, for the most part, they are happy. Are they not gifted because they haven't achieved the highest status in the land in their area? 

We have GOT to get away from making achievement our goal for gifted children. We need to engage teachers and administrators in learning about giftedness so they can recognize it and know what to do with it when they find it. We've got to start supporting our gifted children, not adding demands to their already intense lives. We give them the tools they need to create their niche, their space in which they can feel accomplished and find contentment and joy. If their passions lead to eminence - fantastic! We will support them the whole way there and wherever they go from there. But if it leads to an underground bunker/home/workshop where he can build his inventions and hold a sale every year on his birthday - if that's where his passions take him, what's wrong with that? 

Still a Square Peg and a Round Hole

There's been a lot of discussion recently about how to define giftedness. It's an important discussion to have, because in order to effectively advocate, inform, and educate for and to gifted children, we need to first have common language so that we are speaking with a unified voice. We will be better heard if we are speaking together. So this is an important challenge for us to face.

There seems to be a divide on the issue, however, between educators and parents. Having said this, it's no surprise that educators seem to be more interested in a child's education and performance, and parents are concerned about whole-child issues. It's our job(s). And we're pretty good at them.

I wonder sometimes, as we are discussing back-and-forth the value of the whole-child approach to gifted education - do these same conversations happen in regular education? Or other types of special education? I know that every parent is interested in whole-child, but do they expect educators to nurture the whole child in the same way parents of gifted children expect it?

Maybe it boils down to the level of intensity in gifted children - my kidlet, for example, cannot be understood (nor taught) without having some basic understanding of asynchrony and the social-emotional effects of giftedness. And, as we learned at our last school, bad things happen when those aspects of his personality are not carefully nurtured in addition to the intellectual side. As his parent, I recognize this and would love it if a school (anyone? anywhere? well, anywhere near us?) could take on the challenge of supporting him emotionally and cognitively. School (traditional and non-traditional) seems to be able to handle one, but not both extremes.

How does he fit into the current debate on the definition of giftedness?

He won't perform. Recently, a friend who had met him for the first time got a glimpse of his mathematical brilliance, and then set about trying to elicit a little tap-dance of mathematical problems from him. The kidlet just glared at him and walked away - sigh, another lecture from mom on being polite. It's not about stricter discipline, or him learning who is in charge, etc. He's not a computer, he's a child. Yeah, he's pretty amazing at that stuff, but performance anxiety makes his brain shut down when he feels like he's on the spot. He's really not trying to be stubborn - he's panicking. This goes for regular schoolwork, too (I've learned this as we are homeschooling - he needs lots of opportunities to go outside and walk around to process in between subjects, or even when he comes up against a problem that is hard - he will come back in ready to tackle it again).

His sensory and emotional sensitivities ratchet up very quickly, and learning will not happen in those interludes. Everything stops. You cannot get in his face and try to get him to learn when his brain is in full shut-down procedure. One classroom full of noisy kids is enough to keep him on shut-down all day; an assembly with the whole school sends him into a rocking fetal position and tears. And you expect him to come back to class, sit quietly at his desk, and write for 30 minutes? Sorry - complete mental shut down at the same time the body is revved up. That is not a recipe for self-control. Nor "performance" on any measure or standard.

Any discussion of "talent development" has to recognize that performance cannot be standardized for all gifted - and especially 2e - kids. When we talk about potential, we have to understand that how we determine potential for one child isn't going to work for determining the potential for another - it's so subjective I don't know if there is any way to make it "fair" for all children. So I get scared as we talk about "potential" and "talent development" - because I see my kidlet falling through the cracks. If we don't want to lose our most gifted children, we've got to give them the freedom to express their giftedness in ways that are appropriate to who they are. Because, they are children and should be valued for all of what they bring to the world, not just their brains.

I realize that educators are in charge of the brain part, but I don't think we can be quite so dualistic about it. No child should be seen as just a brain, but our smartest children often get treated like that's all there is to them. They are complicated. They are intense. They are whole persons who care, who love, who dream, who imagine, who create... We should treat them that way.

***

"Stop Short-changing Our Most Gifted Students" by Paula Olszewski-Kubilius, president, National Association for Gifted Students [sic], article for The Hill

"A Defining Moment" by Jim Delisle (response to NAGC's Bold Step).

But Your Child Has "Problems"

Note to the non-parents out there: This is, most definitely, NOT how to get on a mother's good side.

"...but your child has problems."

First of all, don't even go there until you've walked a mile... when you have children, I'd be willing to bet your child will have problems too. We all have them. I know no parent who doesn't have problems with their child. Even great parents. Even great children. It's a relationship fraught with "problems." And joy. And frustration. And grace. And tremendous, tremendous amounts of love - going both ways and all through it.

Secondly, my child's biggest problem is people like you. People who don't understand, and who expect mediocrity (oops, I mean "normal") because you don't know any better. My child will never be what you expect - because he isn't average. He isn't a cookie-cutter. He isn't a child who fits inside the little box that teachers (and yes, the person who said this to me was a TEACHER - not one that has ever had him in class, mind you) want their students to fit into so they are "easy to teach." And until people like you stop judging others for whatever perceived lacks you see in them, people like him are going to be misunderstood. What a tragedy, that those who are in charge of educating all these little minds feel so - challenged? threatened? intimidated? - by one that has so much promise. 


I can't even describe to you the feeling that puts in your stomach, when someone throws a dagger like that at your child. It's not the first time. It won't be the last. Somehow I have to pick myself up, dust off the negativity and move forward to what I know is possible. My child needs understanding, guidance, tolerance, and freedom to get there - and that's the world I want to surround him in. 


And that's what I will do. Because yes, I AM Mama Bear.

Yeah, My Kid is Smart, BUT...

Yesterday, I read a really frustrating blog post on the Momformation blog at babycenter.com. It is entitled, "I hate hearing about your gifted child." The blog goes on to talk about how hearing about others' children's successes makes her feel as if her child is somehow less valuable, less special, less unique. Somehow, this mom seems to think that another kid's smartness puts them in a special glass case that nobody else needs to bother with. I wonder if she feels equally as threatened by parents who talk about their children's sports accomplishments, or musical talent?

 Well, let's set the record straight about giftedness.

 Maybe it comes across as bragging, but when I talk about my gifted child it certainly doesn't FEEL like bragging, because it's more like venting. I don't want to suggest that parents of gifted/2e kids have it worse off than any other parent - by no means, everyone has their own struggles with their children. But I'd really like this babycenter mom to trade kids with me for a day or so - if for no other reason than I could send her kid off to school or a friend's house without worrying about getting That Phone Call telling me it's time for her to come home. And I could get some peace and quiet for a while.

Let me be clear - I do not homeschool because I want to. I do not homeschool because I think my kid is too special to be in a regular classroom. I had to quit a job I loved so I could stay home to homeschool my child because we could not find a school that could educate him. We had three private schools that were willing to try, but none of them would say that he'd learn anything. Sorry, I'm not going to start spending money against the equity of our home to send him to a school where he won't learn anything (and I'm likely to get That Phone Call at least on a weekly basis, so really, working at any job that's not incredibly flexible is out anyway). We homeschool because his pace of learning is about a grade every month or so (that we started noticing that trend when he was in 2nd grade and was being tested for reading comprehension, and it went up a full grade and a half every month - they stopped testing him when he hit 12th grade reading level, a month before his 8th birthday). When left to his own devices, he has managed to race through 9th, 10th, and 11th grades since September, and is half-way through two AP courses he started three weeks ago. People ask me what we're going to do next, and it's all I can do not to shout out - "how the heck should I know?" Because here's the thing - HE IS NOT READY TO GO TO COLLEGE.

And this is the thing that most people don't get about giftedness - asynchrony. The kidlet has an amazing brain, but emotionally he is far, far behind his age. Imagine how frustrating it would be to have an intellectual understanding that exceeds most of the people you run into, but are unable to express yourself beyond what a 7 year old can do (and I might be aging his emotional development a little too much). Just imagine how frustrating that must be! For HIM! And for his parents, who are doing our darndest to try to help him navigate those waters, but can't even figure out where to start. And dagnabbit - somehow I've got to keep him learning while waiting for him to mature enough to actually go to college!

Recently, I had this conversation with the kidlet.

Kidlet: Mommy, mommy. Guess what I figured out today!
Mommy: What's that??
Kidlet: A new way to ANNOY people really bad! I just keep saying the name of my favorite character in my game... Kevin kevin kevin kevinkevinkevinkevinkevinkevin...
Mommy: Stop now.
Kidlet: See it works! kevinkevinkevinkevinkevinkevin
Mommy: Do you realize that when you annoy people, it makes them not want to be around you?
 Kidlet: It does?
 Mommy: Uh, yeah... you didn't know this?
 Kidlet: No, I didn't.
Mommy: How does it make you feel when someone annoys you?
Kidlet: I want them to stop it.
Mommy: And you really didn't know...

Yes, thank you asynchrony! I could go on - the school struggles that sent the kidlet into chronic stomachaches and crying fits and me into anxiety-induced hives. The IEP meetings. The parent-teacher conferences when all we hear is negative. The report cards with "1"s down the personal skills column (that's like an F). The attempts to get him involved in team sports and having coaches ask me not to bring him any more. The mean, horrible, terrible things people have said about him. The frustration-induced temper tantrums that come out of nowhere because he cannot express himself the way he can think it.

So, if you think I "brag" too much about my gifted child, you clearly are not listening. And, Momformation mom - I hope you appreciate the fact that you have a kind, "normal" child, who can fit in with other children her own age, who can participate in activities without one of her parents in viewing distance, and who can go on sleepovers with friends because their parents aren't afraid to have her over.

/vent

Describe Giftedness in 50 Words or Less

Think it's not possible? Giftedness is such an amazingly complex set of characteristics that are put together in so many unique ways, it seems almost impossible to put together a description that takes into account the many variables and yet still manages to capture the essence of what it means to be gifted. Dr. Linda Silverman (of the Gifted Development Center in Colorado) has created such a paragraph. I've been coming back to it for several days, because it's clear that she has taken her years of experience with gifted children and adults, and has been able to describe (not define!) the key characteristics that uniquely identify gifted individuals (although I do not think her intent is to use this for identification). Here is what she says:

‎"Giftedness is not what you do or how hard you work. It is who you are. You think differently. You experience life intensely. You care about injustice. You seek meaning. You appreciate and strive for the exquisite. You are painfully sensitive. You are extremely complex. You cherish integrity. Your truth-telling has gotten you in trouble. Should 98% of the population find you odd, seek the company of those who love you just the way you are. You are not broken. You do not need to be fixed. You are utterly fascinating. Trust yourself!" ~ Dr. Linda Kreger Silverman

"Giftedness is not what you do or how hard you work." 
My kidlet is not what people in the educational realm would call a "high achiever." He simply does not care what you think of what he does - but he cares very deeply what HE thinks of what he does. He doesn't understand jumping through hoops to prove his intelligence. He simply wants to learn and live on his own terms. I fluctuate between agreeing with his assessment that there are a lot of really stupid educational requirements out there that he won't need in order to be a really great biologist and engineer; and realizing that in order to GET THERE, the easier path is college, and college requires jumping through those very same really stupid hoops. 


"You think differently."
I just caught my kidlet giggling over The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Now, I realize it's been a while since I read it - but I don't seem to remember there being too many humorous parts. But something caught in his imagination, and made him laugh. I remember far too well the many times in school when it was painfully clear that I was not thinking the way I was expected to - so I try to support that uniqueness in my child. Still not sure what he thought was funny - but I'll hear about it soon, I'm sure (see below on truthfulness). 


"You experience life intensely."
Hoo boy. Yeah. Everything is big. One of my favorite stories about my kidlet was the time I rearranged the dining room while he was at preschool. He came home and walked into the room (a room we do not use often), and said, "Mommy! You rearranged the furniture! My perfect life is RUINED!" Intense. More. Big. 


"You care about injustice." 
Leave it to my then-5 year old child to unify his combined first/second grade classroom under the banner of the "Save the Germs Club." They spent recesses by the school-yard fence, building a safehouse for all the germs their parents and teachers were so carefully telling them to wash away. When asked how he knew the germs were in there, he rolled his eyes and said, "Mommy, germs are EVERYWHERE, and they're not all bad." He studied about viruses and bacteria, and was convinced that we were destroying all the good guys in the efforts to get rid of the bad guys. "It's just not FAIR!" 


"You seek meaning." 
Yeah, the meaning the kidlet seeks in his immature 12yo mind isn't exactly the kind of meaning the rest of us think about when we go searching for it. But it is there. I see it when he says that if he had only one day to live, he would spend it by writing down all of his creations (which are mostly military vehicles at this point in his life) and would email them over to Boeing, "to keep them out of the hands of our enemies." In his own way, he wants be part of making a better tomorrow for his world. 


"You appreciate and strive for the exquisite." 
This one is harder to find in my kidlet, but only because his definition of "exquisite" is so vastly different than mine. He would describe the process of photosynthesis as "exquisite." He finds beauty in the molecular structure of titanium ("it's so STRONG! But I want to create a substance that is even stronger!"). He sees patterns where others see only chaos. Traditional beauty means nothing to him - he sees beauty in symmetry, in form, in function. And he designs all of his creations to live up to those standards.


"You are painfully sensitive." 
I'm going to leave this one (mostly) alone for now, but with a warning when dealing with gifted people - a careless word or action can crush the spirit. It's only now that we are homeschooling that we can see our happy kid begin to creep out from the hard shell of anger and frustration that had become his demeanor since starting school. Like a turtle tentatively slipping the tip of his nose out from his shell, that happy kid is coming back. But it's a long, slow process. 


"You are extremely complex." 
Yeah - don't even go there. People think they can throw around a few labels and define the kidlet. But he will defy that definition every time. He is more than a brain, more than a set of behaviors, more than a sweet boy who loves to give and get hugs. He is a complex human being - a whole person. And he won't let you forget it. 


"You cherish integrity. Your truth-telling has gotten you in trouble."
I laughed out loud when I read this part. My kidlet regularly tells me when he's done something he knows he's not supposed to. My sister laughed over the holidays when she overheard this conversation,

Me: "We are going out, you can play your computer game while we're gone, even though you've used up all of your screen time already today." Kidlet: "Yay!... Um, to be honest, Mommy - I would have played my computer game anyway." 

My sister listened carefully to see how I would respond (I sighed and said, "I know, but thanks for being honest" and gave him a hug before we left). I always know when I get that "to be honest..." phrase that he is going to tell me something that I don't want to hear. But I'm glad he tells me. This is why I trust his accounts of things that happened or when he gets into trouble - he might try to paint himself in a better light, but he always tells the truth. Even when he's trying to get away with something, he ends up telling the truth and much of the time suffering for it. (This is also a maturing issue that we are working on - because he absolutely cannot stand it when an someone is explaining something wrong, so he will correct them. This doesn't go over well with many adults.) 


It is my hope that, as my kidlet grows older, he will seek out and find those people who don't think there is something "wrong" with him. People who accept him for who he is, even if they don't understand it. I pray daily that he will grow to trust himself, and accept who he is despite the many people who misunderstand, who want to label, who want to find a "fix" for him. He doesn't need fixing. He needs understanding. 


Thank you, Dr. Silverman, for 50 beautiful words.