I was adopted anonymously by parents who wanted a normal, healthy baby.
For a while it looked like they'd got their wish, but by early
elementary I started to show signs that something was wrong. I'd had
good grades briefly, then they had crashed. I'd soon become inattentive
and withdrawn.
In fourth grade, around 1975, the experts went looking for an explanation for my straight-D grades, inattentiveness, and poor social skills in school. The suggestion that I might be gifted was made by my reading teacher, who noted that while I didn't pay attention in class and always had my head stuck in a book, it was a different book every day.
Her suggestion was met with universal derision. How could a very smart child be such a failure? But upon reflection it was decided that I might be retarded (the term was still used clinically at that time), and that I should be given an IQ test to see if I qualified for Special Education. So I was abruptly pulled out of class and sat down at a bewildering exam the likes of which I'd never even imagined.
To the amazement of most, I barely squeaked in as "gifted". Something had gone wrong! I had cheated, or there had been a mixup involving the grading of the test. So I was pulled out of class and given the test again, and the tester made to score the test on site in front of a committee of teachers.
But this time the test was not a complete surprise to me. I had been through it once before, and knew what to expect. This time I scored 20 points higher, over one standard deviation, easily clearing the "highly gifted" mark.
Oh, the consternation! Such hooting, hollering, and carrying on you have never heard in your life! I'm told the administration wanted to test me a third time with even more rigorous anti-cheating measures in place. "You want to see how much higher she'll score next time?" snarked the gifted ed teacher.
(The answer, when another school system tested me four years later, was 30 points or 2 standard deviations higher than the second test.)
The testers tried to explain that only half of high-IQ students perform well in a regular classroom. The other half become bored and disengaged. That explanation only made the administration resent me for not being a team player. However, with so much documentation staring them in the face it was felt that they risked a lawsuit if they didn't put in me in the gifted program (they didn't know my adoptive parents very well), so I was grudgingly allowed in on probation.
Of course, once I had access to people like myself doing things that actually interested us, school became a lot less boring and more engaging. I paid more attention, and my grades improved.
It makes me angry that regional schools no longer have gifted ed programs. Those schools have undiagnosed gifted children in them who are starving for the companionship of their peers and for an IQ-appropriate learning environment. That doesn't do them any good, and by adding to their burdens instead of lightening them we take away their ability to do our country any good.
In fourth grade, around 1975, the experts went looking for an explanation for my straight-D grades, inattentiveness, and poor social skills in school. The suggestion that I might be gifted was made by my reading teacher, who noted that while I didn't pay attention in class and always had my head stuck in a book, it was a different book every day.
Her suggestion was met with universal derision. How could a very smart child be such a failure? But upon reflection it was decided that I might be retarded (the term was still used clinically at that time), and that I should be given an IQ test to see if I qualified for Special Education. So I was abruptly pulled out of class and sat down at a bewildering exam the likes of which I'd never even imagined.
To the amazement of most, I barely squeaked in as "gifted". Something had gone wrong! I had cheated, or there had been a mixup involving the grading of the test. So I was pulled out of class and given the test again, and the tester made to score the test on site in front of a committee of teachers.
But this time the test was not a complete surprise to me. I had been through it once before, and knew what to expect. This time I scored 20 points higher, over one standard deviation, easily clearing the "highly gifted" mark.
Oh, the consternation! Such hooting, hollering, and carrying on you have never heard in your life! I'm told the administration wanted to test me a third time with even more rigorous anti-cheating measures in place. "You want to see how much higher she'll score next time?" snarked the gifted ed teacher.
(The answer, when another school system tested me four years later, was 30 points or 2 standard deviations higher than the second test.)
The testers tried to explain that only half of high-IQ students perform well in a regular classroom. The other half become bored and disengaged. That explanation only made the administration resent me for not being a team player. However, with so much documentation staring them in the face it was felt that they risked a lawsuit if they didn't put in me in the gifted program (they didn't know my adoptive parents very well), so I was grudgingly allowed in on probation.
Of course, once I had access to people like myself doing things that actually interested us, school became a lot less boring and more engaging. I paid more attention, and my grades improved.
It makes me angry that regional schools no longer have gifted ed programs. Those schools have undiagnosed gifted children in them who are starving for the companionship of their peers and for an IQ-appropriate learning environment. That doesn't do them any good, and by adding to their burdens instead of lightening them we take away their ability to do our country any good.
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