Gifted is a Dirty Word

Image is of my preschool daughter, close up, brown eyes, brown hair and a p ink and gray shirt.

(Note: Since writing this post, my views on the term 'gifted' continue to change. I am a work in progress, and I am learning more every single day. Please note, if you see references in this post that feel ableist, that I am learning, and continuing to improve my lexicon when it comes to respecting the disabled community.)

Gifted.

And, I don't mean you were gifted a fabulous bath set by a dear friend. But, that dreaded, heavy word.. the word everybody misconstrues.. gifted.

When your child is easily identifying their alphabet and all the phonetic sounds at eighteen months old. The scoff and "I don't push my child like that." But, I didn't push my child.

When your child is reading at the age of three, and people say "I am just letting my kids be kids." Because, somehow my kid is less of a kid because she can read? Because she taught herself to read? I wasn't sitting here forcing 'My Baby Can Read' flashcards down her throat. She sucked it in like a sponge. This is just part of who she is.

When your child can work with you on 1000+ piece puzzles before she's three, and she's counting to a thousand, and a hundred more things. But, instead of feeling like a proud parent who wants to share the amazement of your child with everyone you love.. you feel like it's some big secret. Because, when your child dives deep, it must be your fault. You must be a parent who pushes them too hard. Quit your bragging. You feel nervous and ashamed to even mention your child's accomplishments, because you're afraid of the judgment. Just because your child is being their natural self.

Gifted is a dirty word.

As a parent of two children with such a span of differences, I can see the reactions loud and clear. I see how my son's inchstones get so much more attention than the things I let slip about my daughter's above the curve accomplishments. Being 'ahead' of the game academically is regarded with distrust and, perhaps, disgust. People take it as a challenge. They take it as an insult. They take it to mean that you think you're 'better' because your kid reads at some arbitrary grade level and theirs doesn't.

I remember walking down the dark halls of our elementary school, and my parents were praising my brother for his AB honor roll. And, I said "But, I got all A's!" My mother says.. "But, we expect that from you." And, we begin the slippery slope of the many challenges that come with this supposed 'gift'.

My daughter was only two years old, if that, the first time she had a 'perfectionism' meltdown. I have always been so careful to never preach perfection to her. But, she just naturally brought it upon herself. She wanted to copy a picture, and she wanted to copy it perfectly. The sun was not in the right place. It wasn't right. She needed to redo it, because the sun wasn't in the right place. Two years old.

Five years old. Night after night, sobbing, hysterical obsession with 'that thing you can't say', which is death. An obsessive fear of death, without any life related triggers at all. Meltdowns that would last until late at night.

 

Six years old. "Mommy, I wish I could just make my brain stop so I could go to sleep." Me too, baby, me too. The eternal ache in your chest to hear your child verbalize something that you've said to yourself for your entire life.

Seven years old. "96? Oh man, I should have gotten a 100." Those words have never been directed in her direction. I feel like I am living in some bizarre flashback of my own life. "Baby, a 96 is great. It is freaking fantastic and I am proud of you." But, her own head tells her she should do better.

My child was speaking in sentences well before she was two years old. She'd ask questions you could hardly imagine. She knew colors like 'peach' and 'magenta'. She could create 3D objects out of a piece of paper by the time she was four years old. And, she once stuck a raisin up her nose. She hates the seams on socks and tights. She loves potty humor, but also loves to talk about the government. Perhaps, that's a little bit ironic. Gifted is a dirty word, but I think asynchronous is a much better one.

A gifted child isn't a perfect one. A gifted child isn't a better one. A gifted child is a child. A deep, intense, unique child on a journey that deserves all the love and praise any other child deserves.

Note: This is only the tip of the iceberg. This doesn't even begin to delve into being twice exceptional; outlying intelligence that manifests itself in non-academic ways and many other related topics..