Last night I was on Google Chat with Meghan, and we started talking about Alison, my 5 year old.
me: She’s what they call “gifted” but I’m trying to come up with a better name for it than that
I’ve got a post in my drafts about it, but haven’t had the balls to publish
Meghan: If I can publish my post, you can publish yours
HEH
me: GAH, don’t go THERE
So, just to prove to Meghan that I’m not a huge coward, here it is.
——–
Alison is different.
No, it’s OK. I know she is. It doesn’t offend me when people notice.
For the first few years of Alison’s life, I had nothing to compare her to. Not really, not in a way that was concrete. It was when she started preschool at age three that her difference became glaringly obvious.
“She’s so… different from the other kids,” the moms would say. They’d look from her to their own child (or children) and ask at what age she started doing this or that.
I became the queen of vague answers. They probably thought I had some sort of memory loss.
But the truth is, she’s not ‘normal’. She’s ‘gifted’. In her therapist’s words, “she reeks of giftedness”.
I cringe at the use of that word. Gifted. It is my belief that we all have gifts and talents to offer the world. So the fact that her brain works differently than the ‘normal’ brain, well… it’s different. But is it gifted? I struggle to find a more appropriate term.
If the ‘normal’ brain is a forest, a ‘gifted’ child’s brain is a jungle. You can’t turn a forest into a jungle, or a jungle into a forest. They are two completely different environments made up of the same key elements. One isn’t necessarily better than the other, they’re just different. People don’t go to Yellowstone National Forest and then complain that it isn’t a jungle.
So why do many other parents feel threatened by my daughter? She’s just a child, and she’s not trying to compete – she’s just being herself.
-Yes, my 5 year old reads at a 2nd grade level. She is capable of solving fairly complex mathematical equations. But she won’t wipe her own butt.
-She can grasp abstract concepts such as atoms and molecules, but she is too timid to go to a birthday party if there is even one person she doesn’t know in attendance.
-If we are having a problem with the wind blowing the door open, she will invent a door-closing mechanism in less than 2 minutes.
But she refuses to dress herself.
In other words, she is different, but she can still be a pain in the ass. There are areas where other children are superior to her.
How do I relate all of that to another parent when she (or he, let’s be fair) feels that Alison’s ‘gift’ makes their child inferior? Here’s one of the myths about giftedness that I want to print out and keep in my pocket:
Giftedness is something to be jealous about:
This is perhaps the most damaging myth. More often than not, gifted children can feel isolated and misunderstood. They have more adult tastes in music, clothing, reading material and food. These differences to other children can cause them to be shunned and even abused verbally or physically by other children.
Alison feels so alone. She already knows she’s different. The kids don’t yet hold it against her, but she knows. She knows.
I’ve only told a handful of people about Alison’s ‘giftedness’ because I learned very early on that it is one of the surest ways to ruin a budding friendship – for myself as well as for my daughter. It’s the main reason I’ve never written about it here, on my blog. Please know, I’m not bragging. Far from it. I know ‘gifted’ sounds like a blessing, but in so many ways, it’s also a curse. And also? Try parenting a child with a higher IQ than your own.
I had originally decided that I wouldn’t even tell Alison until she was in High School, and maybe not even then. College, perhaps? On her 30th birthday? She already feels different – would it help or hurt her to confirm that she actually is? It’s something I struggle with all the time.
Especially because, God help us, people are starting to make comments about Blythe being ‘different’, too. At least they can be different together.
23 replies on “Different”
I know that you’re not bragging. But you will have ample opportunity to brag, I’m sure of it. It’s just so wonderful that you’re Allison’s mother.
I really was convinced that YOU were posing as Alison. Because, DUDE, that girl types better than I do.
She’s a lucky girl. And OMG, those two are going to keep you on your toes.
And, I much prefer the jungle to the forest. :0) Much more interesting.
I am glad you chose to post this. Your struggles will be different than those of other parents as will your joys.
But you will still have them the same as everything else. You’ll still be banging your head against the wall and laughing in bed as you reflect on your day.
Maybe she won’ be a social butterfly but will be content to invent things all day long. And you will love watching her evolve in those projects because they are hers.
I hope you will share it all with us on your blog.
I know how challenging this can be! And how little support is offered. My little cousin is also gifted, she’s now a young lady who attends university, has friends, etc. But her childhood was truly difficult for her and for the family. I guess what people don’t get is that gifted kids are really intelligent but not necessarily emotionally mature. I hope you and your family can find a good middle of the road solution. Your daughter does sound charming! And I love her inventiveness! I wonder there are summer camps where she could meet other kids like her? Just so she knows she’s different but also like someone else. Thanks for sharing, it isn’t easy 🙂
(New reader via Meghan’s tweet.) I was a “gifted” child, too. I read at an 8th grade reading level in the 2nd grade, among other things. I knew I was different, but somehow I learned to embrace it. I think it was because I saw my parents were different, too – not in a gifted way, though. Just wacky, like me. I still remember the day when I realized I was smarter than my dad.
Somewhere along the way, though, I evened out with my peers in many regards. Don’t know if it was nature vs. nature that made that happen. And I seemed to have forgotten that I was labeled “gifted,” actually, so now I wonder if I lived up to my potential. Hmmm…
Sorry, my comment has no real point. Just wanted to throw all that out there from a formerly-gifted-but-now-likely-average gal.
I to was a “gifted” kid in school. I had a few problems fitting in early on but by junior high, I really blossomed and came out of my shell.
I wouldn’t worry about her too much. Encourage her, love her, and she’ll move past fitting it. In my opinion, being too normal isn’t something to be super proud of.
This, too, is a very hard thing to deal with.
When my sister was 5, they sent her in for ‘testing’ because she was ‘special.’ Turns out her IQ was genius level.
Both she and I were in GATE, and luckily, we weren’t the only ones.
Sounds like Alison has the right mom for her gifts.
HUGS
Glad Meghan convinced you to publish this post. I think it’s a great perspective. One many need to read and understand. And I hope that the other “gifteds'” comments will help you out… sorry I can’t offer any info on that one! 😉
Good for you for writing this post, because you needed to. I have found that sometimes the interweb is a more supportive place to air these things than IRL. (Although I know the opposite is also true.) One of my closest friends is in your position and when she told me she was so nervous about it. I think it’s a testament to who are really your friends and looking out for you. Be judicious but your good friends will be cool about it.
I’m not sure I was considered “gifted” in school but I was more advanced than a lot of my peers and I went to a very small school. Just because your (and her) struggles are different doesn’t make them any less difficult.
I think it is so terrible how parents are always comparing their children to others and even more terrible that parents are isolating you and your daughter because of it. It can be hard for “gifted” kids to fit in, I hope your daughter finds her place and you too!
Isn’t it amazing how any uniqueness can be a burden? Why do we feel validated by average? (By we I mean all of us, other parents, or people, or whatever, when we fall into the comparison game.) I guess professionals make it worse by giving average growth charts and average amount of words for each age, etc.
I’m rambling – it is so hard to parent a child with any uniqueness (ours is race) and in your case I’m guessing doubly hard because your girls will be so very cognizant of the world around them. But, I agree, you will have the opportunity to brag and you will be a fabulous mother to your extraordinary girls.
It’s sad that having a gifted child makes us feel we have to keep quiet about our children’s accomplishments. I felt the same way when my daughter was Alison’s age. Her guidance counselor, with 25 years experience, said she was “terribly, terribly gifted” and that she hadn’t met another child like her.
Now, at seven, she’s blown the minds of all of her teachers (there’s six just for core subjects) and peers, and settled into a wonderful school where they realize that not all children fit a mold. Her IEP program would boggle most parents’ minds. A seven year old who reads on a high seventh grade level, but also works on a fifth grade math level, but who is so exceptionally competitive that she’s a teacher’s dream come true when it comes to discipline. What a perfect child.
Except not. I have three children, and she is my difficult child to parent. She can write complicated stories and play adult card games and beat most adults at checkers and the like, but she cannot complete a simple task that her 3yo brother can do. She also cannot be trusted to not wander off, or to even remember her own address, or “stranger danger” rules. She’s an exceptional athlete, but she doesn’t understand her body’s cues on when to quit.
And she doesn’t understand how to relate. To anyone. Adults who are way more mature, or children her age who don’t understand what she’s talking about. In the end she plays with children much older who are in awe of her, or children much younger who don’t understand she’s different. But? She’s different, and she knows it.
I understand, totally.
Wow. What a great post. She really is lucky to have you as her mom.
And ditto to what AnyMommy said.
Thank you for sharing this post with us. I can tell that it’s something close to your heart. Alison is blessed to have you as her Mom. I think you should always be open with her about it. Make the “different”, “normal”.
Can I lend a different perspective: Neighbor to the gifted kid …
We have a child in the neighborhood and the mom, is like you reluctant to talk about or acknowledge it. The vagueness comes off as cagey and secretive. Which makes us all feel weirder than if she just said “My kids going to smart kid camp” instead of avoiding the questions when every one is talking about summer plans. It makes it seem like she thinks the whole thing is top secret.
When she sneaks off to field trips and tries to pretend it’s something else, it’s just weird. We all know the school schedule, we know where she’s going. We know when she’s lying.
I say acknowledge it, act like it’s anything else. Like you said, every kid has a talent or something that makes them special, yours is smart, someone else’s is good at soccer.. is that parent weird about the soccer talent? Probably not. Then don’t be weired about your gifted kid. Give the other parents some credit.
By acting cagey and vague you might be making the whole thing seem like you think its a bigger deal than you say you want to make of it.
I’m not sure I’ve ever commented here; I’ve only just recently found your blog. I have a couple of viewpoints here. One, I was a gifted child, and yes it comes with a different set of issues, depending on the child. Two, I have three gifted children, and a fourth that, at age two, is showing every indication that she too is gifted. Every one of my children is completely different in the issues they face, because their personalities are so different.
There is no way of hiding it. First of all, you can’t hide anything from these kids. And secondly, the school system will slap the gifted identification on a gifted child for you. Then they get pulled out of class at scheduled times to go to the “gifted” class, or as it’s called now in the school district where my children attend, “Enrichment.”
Now some good news: Your child will probably LOVE and CHERISH the opportunity these gifted classes provide because she will get to interact with other children like her. She WON’T be an outcast; she WON’T be different. She’ll get to work on things that interest and challenge her. Everyone in the class will have a similar level of intelligence and she will find it easier and more comfortable socializing with these kids. All of my kids are doing fine socially, whether with the “normal” kids or the “gifted” kids, and I’m sure Alison (and Blythe) will, too.
As for the future, using the crystal ball that is me, I always did OK socially and am pretty good at faking it (at least that’s what people who I’ve let in on the fact that sometimes I’m faking it say). I don’t have tons of friends, but the ones I have are really good ones. I have no ability to participate in inane small talk. I will always choose a movie and dinner with a friend or two (or even alone) over a party, but I do enjoy parties (once I get there, if I didn’t come up with a way out of going). I’ve been married twice, so I guess I must’ve been social enough. I do enjoy my alone time possibly more than others do, but I don’t know that for sure. Most importantly, I turned into a perfectly happy adult, and I’m sure your daughters will as well, especially with a mother who is already recognizing the differences and trying to address them. Good luck!
Thank you all for your encouraging words and perspectives. I feel like I took a giant leap forward in my ability to parent Alison, just by hearing what you all had to say. I am so glad I finally hit “publish”.
I plan to repond to each of you, privately, but I’m swamped with work so I’m having to actually WORK. Imagine that!
THANK you!
It’s already all been said… your daughters are lucky to have you as a mother.
I saw AMomTwoBoys comment – I’m assuming this is you, and not Alison. Having only one child, who is currently 7 months, I don’t have much sage words to give, but it sounds like you’re a great mother and being so aware of things will do wonders.
You’re right. Every one of us is gifted in different ways. Please continue to talk about Alison here! I, for one, want to be able to celebrate her accomplishments with you. Yes, all children are a pain in the ass in their own way, too. Believe me-I have one that wouldn’t wipe his own ass until recently, so you are not alone in that either!
Alison is lucky to have a mommy who understands her! As for other moms…Seeing a child soo much brighter than their own blows insecurities into a tizzy. I have been on both ends. My oldest is autistic and what they call ID, intellectually disabled. He is almost 8 and still on a 2-3yo level.My youngest is very bright just turned 4 and nearly reading. (my middle son is “normal” thank God) I have been the mom staring at the gifted child, internally fearful, know how far behind my son is. And this year, my 3 yo started preschool and is way ahead of his peers. I see he is different and others do too. I am equally worried about him as I am for my disabled son. The bottom line is brilliant or not, all we want for our kids is a healthy, happy and successful life.
I just found your blog from Meghan’s twitter, and, wow, this post hit home.
I am a “gifted” Alison too.* My twin sister is “gifted” as well. Matching genes and environment and all that.
It IS sometimes hard to be in those top percentiles. I got really, really sick of people asking to copy or sit next to me or be in my group for group projects. I am sick of the “Oh, I hate you!” when I finish a book in a couple hours or do well on an exam. So I can understand your concern for your Alison. I felt like something was different about me, back then. I know my sister felt the same way. Our mom never told us test scores or anything, but there were definitely a couple of “With great power comes great responsibility”-type talks, which were a good idea, particularly when I was frustrated with being bored or whatever. But mostly, everything was fine and dandy.
Yeah, other kids were jealous. But I was just as jealous of their athletic ability or their dancing ability or their artistic ability… You get the point.
As a side note, I notice a lot of mentions of “this age reading at that level.” My most distinct memory of kindergarten was blowing my teacher away with my reading. It was from there that I never.wanted.to.stop.reading. as opposed to occasionally putting a book down. Gifted kids need encouragement just as much as anyone else, and I took that encouragement and ran with it.
*I totally feel a little weird admitting that. Thought I’d acknowledge that. It feels a little shady, like I’m bragging or something. The “gifted” part, not the “Alison” part.