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When “Gifted” Isn’t a Gift
I was a gifted child.
It’s something I don’t say often because it’s interpreted as a boast. Being smart is good, but being “too smart” isn’t allowed. It’s a shameful, dirty secret. It’s funny, really; kids can be talented at basketball, piano or painting without anyone accusing them of showing off, but if a child learns quickly and is excited about learning it’s viewed as a put down against everyone else.
One of the things you learn along the way as a gifted child is that you aren’t allowed to be yourself. No one likes you if you can answer all the questions, so you stop answering so many, then they say “Don’t you know the answer? I thought you were supposed to be gifted?” If you’re work is so-so, the teacher gets on your case about not working up to your potential. If your work is great, the teacher holds it up as a shining example for the rest of the class to live up to. That doesn’t help much socially, either.
You try to fit in with the other kids, but your interests are different. You crave deeper conversations or more complex activities and you find yourself alone because no one around you is like you. When you finish your work early, the teacher just gives you more of the same kind of work, even though it’s boring and you would prefer to do something more challenging. When you’re taken out of class for “enrichment activities” the regular teacher gets mad that you’re behind in the work that happened when you were gone. It’s like there’s no way to win.
Once I got to high school I met more kids like me and it helped. Sadly, a lot of them had problems, too. They were misunderstood by their peers and teachers, or they were pressured by their parents to be perfect. Some of them dropped out of school, some of them became addicted to drugs, and some of them went on to do ok. Despite what a lot of people think, gifted doesn’t equal guaranteed success.
My younger brother is one who was really messed up by the system; he taught himself to read before he was 3 years old. When he started kindergarten, he was reading several grade levels ahead and he knew his multiplication tables. They decided to skip him ahead by 2 grades, which stalled his development for years. We figure he was only 12 years old socially and emotionally until he was 25, despite continuing to grow academically.
Things haven’t changed that much since I was a kid. I’ve taught gifted kids for several years and I hear the same kinds of judgments from other teachers that were around 20 years ago.
- You should behave better than this because you’re gifted.
- You should be more mature because you’re gifted.
- You should have done better on that assignment.
- You think you’re better than everyone else.
I married a guy who was identified as gifted as a kid, too. His social history follows the same general path of isolation that so many gifted kids have. And we have a beautiful, brilliant 3 year old daughter who seems to be on that same path, too. Every time I see that excitement in her eyes from learning something new, part of me is thrilled with her and part of me cringes inside. I don’t want her to feel suicidal at 11 like I did. I don’t want her to feel misunderstood like I did. I’m afraid for her because I know what’s coming and I don’t know how to change it.
It’s especially hard for bright girls, I think. Right now she’s not self-conscious about her love of learning, but she probably will be some day soon. Even if she never brags or boasts, people will hold it against her that she “gets it”, as if her mere existence is an insult to everyone else. Her weaknesses will be pointed out again and again to take her down. She’ll stop being herself so enthusiastically and this big part of who she is will become her dirty, little secret that she can’t ever talk about because if she ever mentions it, everyone will think she’s showing off instead of reaching out.
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with unschooling, it doesn’t have to be a “given” that you know what’s coming. there are many many “gifted” kids with a rich, wonderful, connected, kind, accepting community of all ages, thriving and learning and growing and pursuing interests and dreams and intellectual development, through unschooling.
I totally agree here. I was a gifted student, with the added complications of being blind and autistic (undiagnosed till age 20). I spent year sin special education mislabeled as unintelligent cause of my social/behavioral difficulties and poor self-help skills. Then, I spent years in regular education being mislabeled as deliberately annoying because I should be too smart to behave the way I did.
Has the poster heard of the concept of asynchronous development, populated by Stphanie Tolan? I found this a useful way of explaining poart of my difficulties.
I was/am gifted, too, and I’ll gladly boast about it!
:)
Just kidding, but I never felt the same stigma you did- not sure if it was because- well, really, I don’t know- it wasn’t a bad thing where I grew up.
I will say, I did benefit tremendously from going to a couple summer camps where the focus was on intelligence- UVa’s Summer Enrichment Program twice- that was awesome- and the Virginia Governor’s Acadamies- I did the French one, a month long immersion program, and met people who were more into academics like me. UVa also has an awesome Writer’s Workshop for high school kids that I was a counselor at twice when I was in college. (I’m from Virginia, obviously, and ended up going to UVa- love that place! I got a great education- double major and double teaching certificiation).
My advice as a parent- balance the academics with other activities. I also played sports- while I wasn’t excellent, I was decent, and the sports taught me a lot about myself and others and how to cope with a different type of challenge. I think for girls, especially smart ones, sports can be pretty cool.
I didn’t grow up in a privileged area, either… so it’s not like it was necessarily cool to be in the top classes. I really can’t tell you why I never felt badly about being smart. Maybe because we had a pull-out program in elementary school? So we were with other gifted kids for an hour a day? In middle school, we had leveled classes, but they weren’t labeled as gifted. Maybe the way my school handled it was better than yours. A teacher NEVER said anything to me like was said to you. That is TERRIBLE. UGH. I am so sorry you had that experience.
My husband is super smart, and I don’t feel like his experience was as positive as mine. His mother was less willing than mine to challenge teachers… my mom always stood up for us. I think that’s another piece of advice I’d give you and me as parents of smart kids (mine’s 11 mo but I’m pretty sure he’ll be “gifted” :) – is that if something does not seem right, SAY SOMETHING to the teacher or school. Most of the time, parent input is appreciated, not resented. If the school resents it, they are not a good school. As a parent, don’t be afraid to make waves. I don’t mean to sound like I’m telling you what to do- I’m also reminding myself of what to do in the future!
Also, I think you need to reclaim your gifted-ness. What I mean is, the crap that was given to you- you need to recognize that it was wrong. You were not treated as you should have been, and it was not because you were gifted- it was because those adults handled themselves badly.
Yeah, I understand this. I was bounced through schools in low income/bad neighborhoods and I was a pariah. If I answered too many questions I was beat up after school for being a know-it-all. It’s definitely mixed to be gifted. My life experiences are a lot of why I was a teacher and they are the complete reason I will homeschool my kids. There is no way I’m going to let the public education system do to my children what it did to me or my husband.
I have referred to myself in my son’s IEP meetings as a “gifted program survivor” – our small rural school tried hard to make things work for the handful of us in the program, but there’s not a good fix for kids who don’t understand and teachers who are intimidated by smart kids.
Don’t get me wrong – our gifted program is part of the reason I wasn’t suicidal as a kid. So was Missouri Scholar’s Academy (sort of a Governor’s School, but not quite). And my high school’s math team, which I joined in middle school, was a safe haven for me, led by a teacher who wanted to teach gifted kids, and often got in trouble with the school’s administration in terms of how he ran most of his classes.
My husband was one of those kids tested for special ed, only to discover that he didn’t belong there – he was severely ADD, and gifted….and they wouldn’t put a kid who was flunking 2nd grade into the gifted program. To this day, he struggles with that experience.
Other friends of ours have had similar experiences, plus or minus a bit here and there. I had a mother who was a social worker, so she pushed where she could, but even then, it was hit or miss, because she couldn’t catch *every* issue that my brother and I faced. Friends whose parents were not as proactive had even more concerns, or had parents who actively contributed to the problem.
These days, we find ourselves wondering what the future holds for our son – a preemie with some physical delays (which are correctable), in early intervention to get physical, occupational, and speech therapy.
But already at 20 months actual/17 adjusted, the teachers and therapists and nurses who work with him comment on how smart he is…how quick to understand how things work…how intently he examines the toys and objects given, trying to figure out how they work. They comment on the likelihood of him disassembling things in the near future, and we glance at each other and laugh, asking if they’ve seen the mess that is in pieces on the dining room table. We’re already in a realm where his ability tends to out pace the expectations of his staff, and he’s still a toddler – maybe that’s because he’s the polar opposite of most kids in early intervention…but it worries me.
I *fear* his school experience, even though our upper-middle-class suburban school district has a great reputation for working with gifted kids – I fear it more the more time we spend with early intervention. We have an agreement that if things ever begin reaching the point they were with us, something will change. It will not be an issue of trying to make things work, it will be “this is not working, and here’s what needs to happen, or we will remove him from the situation” – up to and including changing schools, home schooling, or whatever else is available. We’re hopeful that the school district will work out, but we’re not counting on it.
thank you so much for sharing this story.
i was also a gifted child. like your brother, i learned to read on my own before age 3, and when i entered kindergarten, it was recommended that i be moved to first grade. i was 5 years old when i started first grade on november 1. during my two months in kindergarten, my teacher would have me read the day’s schedule aloud for the other kids, placing her hand under each word on the chalkboard at a slow, unnatural pace. i liked feeling like i had an important job, but i didn’t like the idea that the other kids (one of whom was my best friend since infancy) were somehow inferior to me. i also hated reading that slowly, word by word–i would go home and complain to my mom, “she has me read like a robot.”
in first grade i was introduced to the world of graded work. i got my first C (in handwriting). otherwise, for the most part, i continued on my little “gifted” way (much like yours) until high school, when the pendulum swung the other way and i hit a wall. after several miserable semesters in college, i found out that i had ADHD and other learning disabilities. for most of my life, i had been “gifted” enough to develop coping mechanisms for those challenges, but it caught up with me in the end.
i am really hesitant to demonize public school because of my experience. part of me is defensive, i think, but part of me just really supports public education and knows public school doesn’t have to be that way.
i also had a lot of really valuable and memorable experiences in public school–not the least of which having been a thorough education in privilege. my family wasn’t privileged enough to even consider private school or homeschooling. on the other hand, we were privileged in that my parents were college-educated, they could at least afford enrichment activities for us outside of school, and provided an intellectually stimulating home environment. my parents contributed their skills to our public schools–my mom was the president of my brother’s high school PTA, and my dad volunteered to accompany band students on piano in competitions.
how can we use our experiences as gifted kids to improve education for all kids (our own, and others)? you became a teacher. that’s fantastic. i think we may need to spend less time blaming “the system”, and more time figuring out how to integrate ourselves–our passions, our values, our “gifts”–into the system, so that it better reflects our standards.
This evokes painful memories for me. Moreover it reminds me of the peoplewho judge my decision to squander my “brilliance” by staying home to raise my children and not seeking a carreer since all the freakish gifted girls were supposed to grow up to be presidents and CEOs, engineers and ambassadors, educators, doctors lawyers and writers. But then our husbands don’t want us using words with too many letters, and our friends don’t want us knowing the answers to their audible musings at dinner parties. So we hold our tounges, use smaller and smaller words, until we’ve somehow managed to disappoint not only everyone else, but ourselves to boot.
Yes, this.
The peer socialization for gifted kids is the most brutal part. I had okay teachers who tried hard to do right by me, but the other kids were what made it such hell that I never finished eighth grade because of stress-induced illness. I was homeschooled from then on because it was the only option we had left. I went on to one of the best universities in the country, but am still a little bit socially broken, and can’t help but place part of that on being simultaneously an object of ridicule and of fascination in school, with no one to shelter or sympathize with. Even the other geeky kids thought I was weird. Ugh.
I’ve yet to see a large institution that can do right by the outliers, along any axis.
I was labelled as “gifted” at the age of nine and was placed in our elementary school’s gifted program. That meant that I had one day a week to meet with a special teacher and work on whatever projects interested me. As a group, the program assigned us more challenging books to read and we did a lot of work with math and logic problems. When I got into middle school, I was placed in accelerated/honors classes. I stayed on the same path in high school ending up in AP courses. I never felt like being gifted was a burden. I graduated from a middle of the road public school system–nothing fancy. I was quiet and shy, but I had friends–never felt like an outcast. I think for me being labelled as “gifted” was a blessing.
Wow, a lot of this post could have been written by me… Very strange. Only I never met like-minded people until I got to university (and I was lucky to have picked a university a lot of ‘social outcasts’ went to.
Yet even there, when I got exited about an academic carrier, it was nipped in the butt by sexism and jealousy.
Up until very recently, I used to say that my every hope was that my child wouldn’t be as ‘gifted’ as I am/was (maybe I prefer was because I think a lot of that giftedness rubbed off during my studies and got put away in a tightly sealed box). But now I have discovered unschooling, I am so glad my children won’t have to go through all I went through.
My husband is an aeronautic and aerospatial engineer, and was probably also a gifted child. He reacted to the system by acting out and doing all kinds of things he knew he shouldn’t. Yet he was told he was too dumb and too much of an underachiever for university (go figure)
It has always been hard. I’m lucky, my family is all gifted. Math genes. I have memories of the class celebrating the first time I missed a math problem one year. Other kids hated me, or at least bullied me. My kids both required special support to get thru school. Son labeled as “not getting” his math. I checked his detailed grades: F, F, F, F, A. The Fs were homework not turned in, the As were tests he finished early. That required vigorous parental intervention to prevent him being placed with slower students. We insisted he be tested. Result: switched to faster level, where his grades became consistent Bs and As. Now he was actually interested! Daughter was better with words than numbers, but no slouch at either. Her problem was migraines and mood swings. Had to pick her up from school a few times, she was hurting so bad. Social environment was hard on both, but both are now parents of brilliant children. Son has a mate who makes sure the school supports them. Daughter is full time mom. Both now facing similar problems, with different environments and school systems available for their kids. Different approaches to what to do about schooling, but both likely to turn out well.
One other comment: smart females have it harder than smart males. More likely to be told they are “too smart”, less likely to be admired for their brains. Different expectations: girls are expected to be pretty and to admire strength, boys to be strong and not like brains.
What needs to happen is they need to learn what they are and what they like is more important than what is expected of them by anyone else. If they can get than, and learn that they are lovable, they will be all right.
I am gifted. My brothers are gifted (and learning disabled, which as other posters have remarked is, in combination, a whole ‘nother kettle of fish). My husband is gifted. I have no doubts that my daughter is gifted, and that any more children I may have will be also.
My husband is one of those people for whom the world’s slings and arrows more or less bounce off. He feels them, but they don’t significantly affect his course; even so, he’s a nerd, with not the best social skills, and even his mother still can’t figure out why I’m with him (and have been for more than 5 years). But then, she’s not a nerd, and doesn’t understand why nerds are sexy. ;)
My brothers and I are not so impervious, and all left public school at various times because we couldn’t cope anymore. Me, I dropped out of seventh grade due to severe depression caused by vicious teasing, and I maintain that girls that age are the most evil creatures on the planet (or can be). I bounced from one learning alternative to another, and finally graduated from a private hippy high school – my brothers graduated from there, too. If it hadn’t been for that school, which did nothing to challenge me academically, I would have taken my GED and gone to community college even earlier than I did. I ended up at a prestigious four-year college, and graduated with adequate grades, and now am not using my degree at all.
I don’t think the gifted label was the problem for me, although I did witness gifted classmates suffering verbal abuse from teachers. For me, it gave me a chance to get services that I *needed* in order to succeed. I didn’t get all of them, but I had better access to them than I would have if had not had that label. For me, the problem was simply being who I am – blindingly bright (if I may be so modest) and unable to hide it. As an adult, I have managed to surround myself with other bright people, but I am always surprised when I encounter ‘normal’ people… such as my MIL. She’s quite intelligent, but she doesn’t have that extra *something* that her husband and children all have.. or maybe she does, but learned to hide it so well that she hides it from herself.
I’m not sure where I’m heading with this… but I do know that I want to make things different for my daughter. I don’t know how exactly that will work, but I have time to figure it out, as she’s not yet 2. I wish I could trust the school system to do the job adequately, but I believe that I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands, one way or another.
The first thing I want to say is that I’m relieved by the response I’ve received for this. I was very hesitant to write, but the anonymity here gave me the freedom to talk about these things that I’ve wanted to talk about for a long time. Even though I hate that others have had similar experiences to my own, it feels good to know that there are others who understand me.
I’ve taught gifted kids for several years and I really enjoy them, but I’m not going to be doing it anymore, at least not for a while. The workload that comes along with how gifted classes are set up in my school board is just too much; I teach 3 different grade levels at the same time and I’m expected to cover all the curriculum for all 3 grades throughout the year, plus write IEPs for all the gifted students (in first term, that was 47 IEPs). It’s 3-4x the work of a teacher in a “regular” classroom. I need more time with my family right now. It’s taken me a while to do this for myself, in part because I know that they might end up with teachers who believe that gifted kids should just get more work to do or who just plain don’t understand them.
I was a gifted child, too. Or, at least, I was always the smartest kid in any class I took until I entered engineering school (with the other gifted kids) in university. I identify with a lot of what you’re saying here. I dumbed myself down, I faced high expectations, and I was torn between my intellectual interests and my social development.
My children, so far, appear to be more or less average. I am generally happy about this. Being ‘smart’ didn’t necessarily make me better at life. But I will admit, I am so accustomed to being the one who knows all of the answers that when my kids DON’T I have a hard time maintaining perspective. It is very conflicting for me. I like the idea that they won’t face the same difficulties I did, but I am so addicted to praise (since I always got it) that I feel it’s alarming if myself and my kids aren’t being heaped with it. I’m working on it.
Katie B: My particular nemesis was a third grade girl, but I totally agree that girls are more gifted at causing pain than boys. I was the kid who was reading chapter books in kindergarten- and dragging home books I’d already read from the school library to give myself a cover.
Yeah, girls with brains have it rough. Even now I’d trade every single brain cell to be thin and blonde.
Emerson- total co-sign. I had pretty good grades throughout school- and I would’ve traded it all to be blonde, and skinny. Or a male and a jock.
I was never labeled as gifted but my teachers knew I was smart and complained that I wasn’t reaching my potential, or else praising my perfect work. I loved answering questions and learned to back off to give other kids a chance to answer. But luckily I didn’t receive too much criticism. Students asked me for help, which made me feel valuable. Still, I did have a hard time finding a group to fit in with. Anyway, I just don’t like how schools often don’t fit the needs of the children and hope to avoid that whole scenario with my kid. All children, regardless of whether they are gifted, average, or challenged, need individual attention in their schooling.
Having attended a very harsh private school for gifted kids from the ages of 11 through 14, I have to say the answer isn’t necessarily there either. They piled on the more-of-the-same homework, hours and hours of it. The punishment for failure, misunderstanding, or forgetfulness was intense public humiliation from teachers and students, simultaneously. I’d categorize several of the dressing-downs I got (for such offenses as daydreaming) as verbal abuse. At 12 I was gifted, learning disabled, and almost suicidally depressed. There was no recognition of, and certainly no support for, the second two, because if you’re gifted, you should be above such things.
Indeed there were a whole bunch of assumptions I had to deal with or live up to:
- If you really are gifted, you’ll be good at every subject you study.
- If you really are gifted, you’ll recognize that typical adolescent social concerns (appearance, sexuality, popularity, dating) are frivolous and be happy to ignore them in favour of schoolwork.
- If you really are gifted, you’ll always study what’s assigned, not what you find interesting.
- If you really are gifted, you’ll be naturally good at organization and time management.
- If you are NOT really gifted, educating you at a first-rate institution like this one would be a waste.
I did much better in a school for more “average” adolescents, despite the slightly increased social isolation.
This post and responses have really spoken to me. I was a gifted child, but I also had itinerant parents, and mostly landed in small schools without special programs. Usually K-12 was in the same building, and I got permission to go to the high school library as the most productive thing the teachers could do for me. I had no opportunity for gifted or AP classes. The HS school board would discuss what to do with me and 1 other smart girl. I read voraciously, as the best opportunity to spend time with my peers (the fascinating people in the books). I wish I had been encouraged to be active in sports: instead my parents encouraged me to only do what I was good at, and sports was definitely not it.
My kids (and now grandkids) got a double-whammy: they were tall and gifted. Everyone seems to expect mature behavior out of them. I made it a point to tell folks how young they were, because that’s where they were emotionally and socially.
Thanks for writing this.
Yes, yes, yes. I got stuck with the “gifted label” in school, complete with the special classes and field trips and computer camp. I tried failing tests on purpose, but the teachers assumed I caught someone copying and answered wrong to make them fail.
I hated it. The other kids hated me, the teachers expected perfection every day, and I felt more like a brain than a kid. When I moved to another school I did everything I could to dumb myself down.
AMEN! As a child who was labeled as gifted, I am against ANY labeling, positive or negative. I hated that I would turn in a paper that any other kid would have gotten an A on, but because I was “gifted” I only got a C. I was so burnt out on school by 9th grade, my parents and teachers ended up basically bribing me to stay in school till 12th grade. Such a sad waste of what could have been a bright kid’s future..
As a gifted unschooler I can relate to the points made in this post. Even though I don’t have to deal with bullies or unfair assumptions, sometimes things are harder for me. Finding friends is something that’s harder. Though I have three good friends now, most of the time I don’t relate at all to kids my age. I like to hang out with older kids, but sometimes they don’t give me a chance because I’m younger than them. It gets frustrating.
Well anyway, I really like this post.
- Just another unschooling teen
Great article and responses. I skipped three grades (2nd, 4th and 6th) but was forced to repeat 8th grade even though I had successfully finished the classwork in my 7th grade year. I blame that one on my parents, who I guess had no clue. So I only say I skipped two grades and then grumble and get all cynical for the evening when I tell that story. Four of us were moved from 6th to 7th grade, and that’s when the bullying became unavoidable – some of the kids were three years older than us.
When I re-did the 8th grade, the bullies were gone but I had no motivation to do well. A friend of mine and I got permission to start spending recess time inside to do chemistry experiments, and that helped me get through the year. So I entered High School demotivated but insanely curious, with confidence that I could do anything, but mistrust for authority. Skipping grades can give you overconfidence, so I did struggle for a few months while I adjusted, but my grades rose and stayed up. That mix of wariness and optimism have continued through college and into my career.
Being gifted is great, but it can be lonely. It has helped that I met and married a woman who is gifted in many ways and who is nurturing our wonderful kids through the joys of unschooling.
I was gifted, am gifted. Bizarre how I feel like I’m standing up at a “Gifteds Anonymous” meeting, like there’s something wrong with it. I am getting my master’s degree in gifted education, and wrote a paper last summer on the social implications for gifted girls, for whom it is classic to hide one’s self to fit in with the less complex general public. As a result, I have tentative plans to start a city-wide gifted girl social group, so that local gifted girls might have a place to hang out occasionally and get to know others of like mind. It can be a lonely and demoralizing business being a gifted girl, and you shouldn’t have to go to an ivy league school just to find other people like yourself.
I, too, am gifted (Linda, who said this felt like a ‘GA’ meeting? You’re on to something there). I don’t really have much to add to the conversation, other than to say I wasn’t really embarrassed or teased for being in the gifted program (perhaps envied for getting out of half of my classes three days a week to build aliens out of cardboard) until the end of my senior year of high school. It was during homeroom and I was handed a paper announcing that I needed parental permission to graduate high school because I was in ‘special education’. It was nothing more than a formality due to do poor labeling and an outdated system, but as I folded the paper back up I was a little bit crushed, perhaps because it was the system calling me ‘different’ or maybe because, on the cusp of moving out, leading my own life, I still needed parental permission for the one event that was going to make me more of an adult than I’d ever been before (nothing against my parents, but I’m stubborn and strong-willed). It makes me anxious and sad to this day.
I understand this article ALL TOO WELL. I have always felt my gifted-ness was a curse in every way possible…from a young age, relating to my peers and family into adulthood with the jobs I’ve had. I def. think there is a link from gifted-ness to childhood depression and hope it gets studied more.