The first thing to overcome is the guilt and the fear…the
nagging sense that I’m some sort of imposter who has no right to the term “gifted”.
Like many, I have long held on to the misconception that “giftedness” could be
reduced to a single, coldly defining number: an IQ score. That the everyday genius that is giftedness could standardized on a bell curve. The reality of giftedness, however, is worlds away from that base and primitive simplicity touted by psychologists of eras long since past...
There are many traits which define giftedness, and IQ is
only one measure. The reliance on IQ as the determiner of intellectual capacity
is an outmoded perspective that has been debunked many times over the years. That’s
not to say it isn’t valuable, but like all measures, IQ scores are imperfect
and they need to be considered along with other factors.
The fantastic online resource library of www.sengifted.org has a few great articles
and a lot of bibliographic references for understanding giftedness in both
children and adults. I recommend this one and this one if you want some brief
but interesting perspectives on what giftedness actually is. I also highly recommend
the texts The Gifted Adult, Gifted Grownups, and Misdiagnosis and DualDiagnosis of Gifted Children and Adults. All three are excellent references on
the subject (though, fair warning, the third one in that list gets a bit
technical in places if you are not already familiar with the DSM IV).
For those who didn’t come to this blog looking for a
research project, I can summarize some of the characteristics frequently put
forth as being part of the common traits of gifted children and adults:
*An ability to learn rapidly while
still comprehending readily and retaining what is learned over time (typically,
the memory is long term and reliable)
*Ability to concentrate and remain
focused for long periods of time when engaged in a task, often to the point of “blocking
out” the surrounding world
*Capacity for keen observations and
fast, efficient problem finding abilities; typically good at analyzing complex
systems and spotting the source of issues even among convoluted and
interdependent factors
*Good at foreseeing problems and
trends
*A tendency to set high standards
for oneself and engage in routine self evaluation, often comprehending one’s
own motives without outside assistance and grasping the functioning of the self
on multiple levels at once
*Frequently feel “different” from
others and usually have an atypical sense of humor especially keying into humor
regarding the absurdity of life
*Persistent and deep concerns about
universal issues and a keen sense of justice, often with an outright
intolerance for unfairness
*A clear desire for and appreciation
of novelty as well as a marked preference for unusual, unique, or creative
responses
*High ambiguity tolerance and
preference for divergent thinking
*High level of nervous system
arousal resulting in extreme sensitivity (both physical and emotional), frequently
with elevated energy levels which may cause short sleep cycles
*A sense of urgency in fulfilling personal
destiny, strong goal-based drive and motivation, and/or feeling personal
responsibility for large scale issues
There is much more that could be added to that list and many
proposed ways of grouping characteristics into over-arching traits for ease of
discussion. I think this is sufficient to get the gist of what being gifted is
mostly about. The IQ is ultimately not nearly as impactful as many of these
other traits when it comes to influencing how a person lives his or her life.
In my case, it is particularly fortunate that IQ is no
longer the only research supported indicator of giftedness, because my number
is a mystery to everyone: my parents refused to allow my public school to test
me. That said, I had a twelfth grade reading level by the end of fourth grade
and what my mother felt was an “unnerving” ability to translate Shakespearian
English into modern language without training or coaching at the age of eight.
That probably speaks well enough for what my IQ number might have been, had my
parents allowed the testing to take place.
It’s probably redundant to say it now, but I read early and
talked earlier. When I was a toddler, I startled my mother when I sat at the end
of my bed each night and repeated, verbatim, every phrase that had been said to
me throughout the day before falling asleep. I don’t remember doing that, but I
do remember being trotted around at a pre-pre-school summer program and made to
spell simple words like “bird” repeatedly because the attendants couldn’t
believe a child on the shy side of four could accomplish the task.
At school, I inadvertently talked over the heads of my peers
and regularly found that only adults could engage me in the level of
conversation I needed in order to be properly entertained during recess. That
had surprisingly little effect on me early on—I had a string of primary
teachers who encouraged and supported me. But somewhere between third grade and
fourth grade, I started to notice that I was not like the other children. Their
teasing took on a harsher tone the further I outpaced them in the classroom. I
was an outcast on the playground—the one place where they had an advantage over
me. I quickly internalized the message they so clearly sent “You’re different,
so there must be something wrong with you.”
Fast forward twenty years through a life that, despite my
inherent gifts, has not been at all devoid of hardships. I am sitting on a
psychologist’s couch repeating those words.
“There must be
something wrong with me.”
I say it while ignoring so much of myself. Ignoring the
brilliant glow of my creativity, and sharpness of my mind, and the speed with
which I process the complex thoughts racing through me. Ignoring the drive, and
the sense of destiny, and the feeling that there must be something I can do to
make the world a better place. Ignoring the deep emotions which make me too empathic
to sit by while others suffer, and my acute sensitivity to injustice, and my impassioned
reactions to the images in the nightly news. Ignoring the rich inner life I
live as part of my faith, and the transcendent moments, and the bursts of philosophical
insight. Parroting again what I was told so definitively by my peers as a
child.
“There must be something wrong with me.”
Not realizing the fact that none of my gifts come without a
price. Not realizing that asynchronous development, social difficulties, and
oversensitivity to a world built for someone less reactive, are all part of the
territory. Not realizing that the gift often looks like a curse. (Not realizing
that most of the time, it is a curse.) Not realizing that good things can come
of them, but only if they are nurtured and viewed from within the proper
context. But because I don’t realize any of that, I don’t tell her that I read
Hamlet in third grade. I just repeat what my classmates said because it’s what I
think I know.
“There must be something wrong with me.”
The trouble is that, if you say it enough, someone will
eventually agree with you. Once they do— once there is a diagnosis to hang all
of your troubles from—you absolve yourself of the responsibility to fight for
the right to be different without being ridiculed and isolated. It seems like
salvation at first. Finally, finally, an explanation that makes everyone happy. It’s seductive and
dangerous because ultimately, it means you accept it and it becomes your only reality.
“There is something wrong with me.”
The journey back from that place starts when some nearly
forgotten part of you gets fed up, stands, and whispers back,
“No. There isn’t.”
Ahead in Part 2 of this series: Coming back from the brink, "collapsed" gifted traits, and the problem of proving oneself sane after being declared insane
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