More than a Test Score

Sorry for my absence!  I've spent the last month organizing a celebration honoring some of Wisconsin's brightest middle school students.  These amazing kids participated in Northwestern University's Midwest Academic Talent Search, taking the EXPLORE, ACT and SAT exams intended for students 4-6 years older than they are.  Believe it or not, these youngsters in grades 4-8 scored quite a bit higher than the average high school seniors. (For those of you who know the tests, some earned as high as 33 on the ACT and 1530 on the SAT.)

For our theme "More than a Test Score" I created a slideshow of photos the kids submitted showing them doing all the things they love.  Truly amazing.  I plan to post it on the WATG website.  Some of the parents asked me to post my welcoming comments as well, so here they are!

Welcome!  We’re here today to recognize you for accepting the challenge of attempting an out-of-level achievement test intended for students 4-6 years older than you are.  Not only did you accept that challenge, but you did well on the exams.  Really, really well!

However, we’re here today to celebrate more than your high test scores.  As we saw on the slideshow, you are wonderfully interesting people who also happen to have great intellectual and academic gifts.  You’re artists and dancers and musicians and athletes and actors. You work, you play, you volunteer.  You’re special in many, many ways.  AND you are KIDS – typical, busy kids who sometimes feel like Caleigh did (in her caption) “I’d rather be sleeping!”  So today we’re taking this opportunity to celebrate the “whole” of you . . . your brilliant minds, your compassionate hearts and your active lives.  Congratulations to each of you. 

Dr. Maureen Neihart once wrote: “The single most powerful predictor of positive outcomes for vulnerable children is a relationship with a caring adult.”  Parents, your presence here today is a sign of your ongoing love and concern for your children’s welfare and happiness.  Students, will you join me in thanking your parents for being here and for always being there?

And I’d also like to thank you students.  Thank you for being you - wonderfully bright, caring, funny kids.  Thank you for your courage, for pursuing challenges and taking educational risks.  Thank you for your diligence, for working hard and valuing quality work. Thank you for your humility, for understanding that while you are definitely better at some things than your peers, you’re never better than others.  And thank you for taking charge of your own education and for allowing us, your parents and teachers, to help you create your own personal path to graduation and beyond.  Remember as you pursue your many passions - take time to enjoy the journey.

In Memoriam

With gratitude to Annemarie Roeper for her life-long commitment to gifted children.

“There is a goldmine of hidden creativity in each one of these children, which can blossom into spiritual, emotional, creative and scientific growth. We need to build bridges between the inner world of the individual and the outer world of society, so that knowledge, thoughts and emotions can flow freely between them. To contribute to the accomplishment of this great goal continues to drive my life passionately.”

The Roeper School has posted her official obituary here.

Things I Would Have Said

I recently heard an interview with Jackie Hooper, author of The Things You Would Have Said.   She also manages a blog (http://wouldhavesaid.com/) where people post letters they never wrote: “Whether the person has passed away, contact was lost, or the strength needed at the time was lacking, this is a chance to say what you have always wanted them to know.”   The letters are sometimes sad, sometimes humorous, but always poignant.

Of course I can’t help but hear through my “gifted self-advocacy ears” and as I listened to the interview my mind drifted back to my own school days, my classmates, my classes, my teachers.  What could I have said or done that would have made school better for me? 

The first thing that came to mind . . .

Dear Mrs. Bryce.  About that round-robin reading of Romeo and Juliet we’re doing in English class . . . I love the play, but the slow, slow pace is driving me crazy.  Could I do an independent project instead?

And then I thought . . .

Dear Mr. White.  I really don’t get this sine/cosine/tangent stuff but I’m afraid to ask for help. I don’t want you or the other kids to think I’m as dumb as I feel right now.

Of course finding an appropriate academic challenge isn’t a new concern.  We all probably struggled with it at one time or another and so did our parents and their parents.  But in an age of budget cuts, staff reductions, and gifted program elimination we MUST empower our students with the skills to advocate for themselves.

So now it’s your turn. What do you wish you’d said to an educator?  Revealing our own academic frustrations may give our students ideas on how to improve their own lives.

Post your own “note to my teacher” in the comments below or on my WATG president's blog here.   

Trust me.  Getting it off your chest feels pretty good!

I don't need fixing

One of my former self-advocacy students just posted on Facebook: 
I'm an introvert and I don't need fixing!

You may have seen this, but it's worth repeating . . . 

 

The Top 10 Myths about Introverts

 (clink on the link above to learn how Carl King disproves these myths)

1. Introverts don’t like to talk. 
2. Introverts are shy. 
3. Introverts are rude.
4. Introverts don’t like people. 
5. Introverts don’t like to go out in public. 
6. Introverts always want to be alone. 
7. Introverts are weird. 
8. Introverts are aloof nerds. 
9. Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
10. Introverts can fix themselves and become extroverts. 

Linda Silverman reports that "about 60% of gifted children are introverted compared with 30% of the general population.  Approximately 75% of highly gifted children are introverted."  However introversion "is very likely to be misunderstood and 'corrected' in children by well-meaning adults."

As Carl King writes, "Extroverts need to recognize and respect us, and we also need to respect ourselves".

Aimless Love

I shared this poem with my young friend, a gifted artist.  His response?  How could Billy Collins know exactly how I feel?  One key to self-advocacy is connecting with others who have similar intensities . . . knowing that you may be an outlier, but you’re not alone out there!  

Aimless Love

This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.

In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.

This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.

The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.

No lust, no slam of the door –
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.

No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor –
just a twinge every now and then

for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.

But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.

After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,

so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.

~ Billy Collins ~

For more on intensities and sensitivities check out Michael Piechowski’s book, 'Mellow Out' They Say. If I Only Could   http://www.mellowout.us/

Another story of chance

About a month ago I wrote about Gagne's Differentiated Model of Giftedness and Talent and the impact of chance on the development of one's gifts into talents.

Today I was reminded of Annie, another student whose life course was changed by chance.

While her parents provided her with tons of enriching experiences, no one in the family was especially interested in music.  Then they moved to a new house with a much larger living room than they'd had before.  With room to spare, they agreed to babysit for a friend’s baby grand piano.  At first it just sat closed in the middle of the room.  But 9-year-old Annie’s curiosity got the better of her and one day she opened the lid and tried a few notes.  The attachment was immediate.  Before long she was spending hours on the piano bench, legs dangling, composing her own surprisingly complicated melodies.  Her parents agreed when she told them it was time for formal instruction!  By middle school she was competing in state music competitions.  By high school she was winning them . . . and a scholarship to the conservatory of music!

Right time + right place + right advocacy = talent development

Egalitarianism?

A response to the misconception that  

“Teaching gifted kids to self-advocate won’t work because we don’t offer that in our school."

If we don't, we must! It needs to be in the toolkit of every one who comes in contact with gifted children.

The best method is direct instruction in self-advocacy because it is the most efficient, effective, systematic, and continuous way to help students take charge of their own education.

 

And better yet . . . providing that instruction to a like-ability group of students assures a common knowledge base, peer networking, and a broader understanding of learner diversity. 

While schools are generally eager to address the needs of other outliers, all too often gifted students do not feel they have permission to ask for what they need. 

As Jim Delisle wrote in Gifted Child Today, 24 (1) 14-15, Winter 2001:

In our rush toward egalitarianism as regards the concept of giftedness, we have lost sight of what should be our primary vision – the gifted child who cries out for attention. 

With our help, the sky is their limit!