Let me first introduce some students I have known. As you read, try to picture them in your mind and consider whether you would welcome them as your child’s friend at the grade level indicated or at any other. Consider, too, whether they would have a good fit in the gifted program in your child’s school. These are real students, but I have changed their names.James was a bright, sensitive second-grader, a significant presence in his classroom. His engaging personality drew his classmates to him, and his teachers were amazed at his capabilities. His parents actively cheered his accomplishments.
Gabriel was a handsome, articulate sixth-grader, who had first been identified as “gifted” in third grade. He actively participated in class discussions, interacted intelligently with his teachers, and tuned in to his classmates.
Sara was elected to the student council in ninth grade, glad for an opportunity to be a leader. Her scores on standardized tests were at the 98th percentile, and she was a serious student. She was tall and attractive.
Tristan, as a sophomore, had already conducted maze-type experiments with his pet rat at home, and he dreamed of becoming a behavioral psychologist. He eagerly invested in Future Problem Solving and appreciated the camaraderie there.
Tina, also a sophomore, had had nothing but A’s during her school years. She was attractive, was attentive in class, and was appreciated by her teachers. Her standardized scores on achievement and ability tests were at the 99th percentile. She had a gifted boyfriend.
Mike was a superstar in the theater department of his large high school, having played several leading roles. Not shy, he was well known among his peers, had many friends, and had long been a stalwart in the gifted program.
Tiffany sustained her straight-A average as a senior, was active in band and choir, and had participated in a gifted program since her early-elementary years. Her parents felt grateful that she had been easy to raise and was so successful in school.
Devon, as a senior, was widely regarded as one of the brightest students to have gone through his high school in several years. A gifted musician, he was valued by his orchestra peers, and his team competed well in academic competitions.
Josh, Devon’s classmate, wasn’t as well known as Devon, partly because he had limited his activities to science, but his instructors were in awe of his brilliance and foresaw a great future for him.
These nine gifted individuals probably fit the stereotype of “gifted kids.” Everyone except James, who had not yet experienced them, also scored well on standardized tests, the kind that are commonly used for identification for gifted programs. In addition, all had experienced success in some area of school life. If giftedness translates to good student in your school district, then these individuals appear to fit into that frame. Depending on how much you value talent, school fit, and “being a good kid,” you might have no objection if your child claimed any of these individuals, as described, as a good friend. As a group, these nine appear to be quite similar to each other.
This article could now move easily toward a focus on how important it is to find mind-mates for some of these bright children. Or on common stressors in the lives of stereotypical gifted students and how gifted students deserve attention to social, emotional, and general developmental concerns at school. Or on whether ability predicts future success. Or on giftedness across cultural groups, especially as related to identification procedures, since these individuals all came from the dominant culture in the United States. These are certainly topics worth discussing. But that is not my plan here.
Diversity Within
This article will instead explore the diversity within this ostensibly homogenous group. On closer examination, the students described earlier represent considerable diversity. Stereotypes of any group unfortunately ignore important individual differences and miss idiosyncratic strengths, needs, and concerns. Here, I will simply use one familiar stereotype to make a point. Gifted education teachers need to beware of creating program curricula based on inappropriate general assumptions about students to be served. Parents, too, can be cautious as they determine what is “good” and “acceptable”— and even “gifted”—based on faulty assumptions about individual students.
Let me continue my introduction of the nine students.
James had cerebral palsy, his speech was difficult to understand, and he required a paraprofessional to assist him with all aspects of his school life and personal care. James laboriously dictated his schoolwork to his “para.”
Gabriel was on medication for ADHD and carried items with him to “fiddle with” in classes so that he could contain his hyperactivity. He had also been kidnapped by his father as a child, starved, and kept in a closet for punishment.
Sara’s parents had each experienced several marriages, and Sara and her many siblings, products of these marriages, had experienced various blended families. Sara’s current family moved often, sometimes because rent was due. The last house they lived in could have been in a blighted urban environment; yet it was in a Midwestern town of less than 20,000. After student council members repeatedly ignored her comments, she dropped out of that activity, discouraged and believing that her life-long dream of college had been unrealistic.
When a social worker made a home visit, after Tristan had missed two weeks of school, they found him ill with untreated pneumonia, wrapped in sheets that had not been washed in months, with no food in the refrigerator, and parents unresponsive after crashing from a methamphetamine high.
Tina had been a victim of incest, one of several victims across generations in her family. Her boyfriend was emotionally and physically abusive. Achievement was the only aspect of her life that she could control. A failed suicide attempt finally brought attention to her pain.
Mike was gay, and, unlike most gay youth, he had been unabashedly open about his sexual orientation since ninth grade. In spite of being repeatedly bullied and traumatized over several years, he had achieved a level of confidence that allowed him finally to “be himself” at school. He surrounded himself with outgoing friends and enjoyed his stardom, even though a group of athletes continued to harass him.
Tiffany revealed a serious eating disorder to her gifted education teacher during her senior year, encouraged to seek help after her discussion group for gifted students interacted with a speaker on that topic. She said, “I’ve done everything everyone wanted me to do all my life. I’ve taken no risks, been on a narrow path that everybody laid out for me. I’m realizing I don’t know who I am.”
Devon was one of the most significantly underachieving students in his high school, to the consternation of teachers and parents alike. He also suffered from depression.
Josh was a classic “nerd”—painfully shy, unassertive, intense, unathletic, small, and a cartoonist’s dream. He helped administrators at his high school set up a new computer system.
What kind of diversity is represented here? These individuals are not meant to represent any particular distribution of categories in the gifted population. Because so many nonstereotypical highability students are not identified for programs, and because their ability potentially helps highly capable students mask distress and even disabilities, it is difficult to know what “exceptional ability” looks like, collectively. In spite of appearing at first glance to be “typical gifted students,” the students I have introduced here are real examples of bright, highly capable individuals who do not fit usual definitions and are different—beyond the differentness inherent in high ability.
In economic terms, Mike came from an upper-middle-class family. James, Tiffany, Devon, and Josh were from middle-class families. And the families of Gabriel, Sara, Tina, and Tristan had low socioeconomic status—coming from a different culture than the others, one could argue. James had a physical disability, and Gabriel and Tiffany each had a psychological disorder to wrestle with. Five others had experienced severe depression. Gabriel and Tina had been traumatized, and Tristan had suffered severe neglect at home. Four had experienced the divorce of their parents. Mike was gay.
Are these typical gifted kids? They certainly were all good kids. None used illegal drugs, all were respectful of adults, and they were not assigned after-school detentions. They were thoughtful, insightful, and mature for their age. All had intense interests and were interesting to talk with. All were physically attractive.
Yet most of them were also lonely. Whatever made them “different” interfered with social ease and sometimes with social contact. Most felt uncomfortable in school—fairly often. Differentness precluded independent socializing for James, made school an unsafe place for Mike during middle and high school, gave Tina and Tiffany heavy secrets to guard, meant a long period of isolation for Gabriel, kept Tristan from inviting friends to his home, fed Devon’s and Sara’s depression, and often isolated Josh. At some level, their extra layer of differentness was a problem. In many ways, including because they were “different,” these individuals were at risk for poor emotional and educational outcomes. Healthy social and emotional development and comfort are important to thriving during the school years, and these highly able students were particularly challenged. Short- or long-term school success could not be assumed. These kinds of differentness are not usually what come to mind when educators and the media refer to diversity. Yet these differences potentially affect all aspects of a gifted child’s life, certainly including social comfort and academic success at school.
Differentness
Why are differences unsettling? Do they vaguely threaten us? Is it simply that “different” children are unfamiliar? Perhaps their presence challenges our assumptions, our values, and perhaps even our identity. Then, too, we often do not move beyond first impressions, based on a child’s behavior or appearance. Differentness may in fact distract us, and we may automatically see it as deficit. We may even steer our children away from children who are different.
When there are differences, it is easy to miss even an individual’s giftedness, since it may not be demonstrated in ways teachers are trained to identify. My own research revealed that teachers routinely identify as gifted children who have good social skills, verbal skills and verbal assertiveness, a strong work ethic, parents with good reputations and involvement in school, and good behavior. It is important to remember that some children, at a certain time in their lives, might not be able to demonstrate their talents and abilities in ways teachers expect to see “gifts” revealed. These might be children with low English proficiency, difficult family circumstances, or social discomfort in school, or children from cultures that do not value “standing out.” Classroom teachers, who often are the gatekeepers for programs when they are asked to nominate students who have not been identified through initial screening, may then miss many who should be identified. Not only might they not see a child’s abilities, but they also might not value some qualities, prized in a child’s culture, that could enrich the classroom more than their presence already does.
I argue that parents may also, intentionally or unwittingly, discourage their children from enriching their lives by seeking out “different” classmates or neighbors. There is much to be learned from those who are “different”—in addition to learning about them.
Parental Modeling
Parents model many behaviors for their children—a strong work ethic, punctuality, trust, self-care, healthful eating habits, concern for the environment, service to community, frugality, interest in the news, and involvement in a faith community, for instance. Similarly, of course, parents can model self-abuse, isolation, poor coping with stress, poor work habits, anti-authority attitudes, distrust, and dangerous aggressivity. What about parental modeling regarding diversity? Two parenting behaviors come to mind.
When parents see their child as a separate individual, not justas an extension of themselves, the child’s process of forging an identity and moving toward a level of autonomy appropriate to a particular culture is likely to be relatively smooth. When control of a child’s behavior or future is not a white-knuckle issue, rebellion and defiance are probably not so likely to occur. When adults do not use shame, intimidation, and humiliation to control a child, respect is not translated as fear. When appropriate sexual boundaries are honored, a child is not scarred for a lifetime. When parents do not throw tantrums when their child mirrors characteristics they do not like in themselves, they protect the child’s sense of self. When parents remember to listen to their children, they are more likely to learn about the inner life of their unique child, who is, yes, separate from them.
In other words, when parents respect the “self” of the child, they send a message that individuals differ from each other, even within families, and that it is good to respect differences— including those in school peers who are quite different from them. They also communicate that the eventual goal for adulthood, regarding the family they came from, is “separate, but connected”—at a level appropriate for cultural norms.
- Respect, not “tolerance,” for differentness.
I have often recoiled at references to “tolerance” for differences, whether in connection with culture and ethnicity, lifestyle, sexual orientation, religious practices, or political persuasions. The implication seems to be that if we can clench our teeth and hold our tongue, we can “put up with” people we do not like. I would like to vote for using terms like respect and affirmation, instead of tolerance, when we speak of differences.
We will probably continue to live in a world where we move too easily into an us-versus-them mode, whether in our school, community, country, or world. It will be increasingly important, given our interconnectedness at each of these levels, for parents to send messages to their children about respecting—and valuing—differences. Gifted children and gifted families can lead, in this respect, just as they often have done in the past, and help to make the world a better place. Parents can begin to move in this direction even before their children enter elementary school. Rather than setting tight limits on who is worthy of friendship, parents can encourage their children to take a step past “difference” and get to know peers like the nine introduced earlier, even when their stories are known. Encouraging them to become acquainted with peers who do not fit the “gifted” or “good” stereotypes at first glance, and to stand up for those who are different, can also send the message that respect for differences potentially enriches life. Purposefully exposing our children to diversity and helping them to see other perspectives will help them live—and lead—in the real world now and in the future. Modeling non-patronizing respect for diversity in large and small ways, including in casual conversation about differences, can have a powerful, positive effect on a growing child.
Who is “at risk”?
I did not include Randall at the outset of this article. What if I had included him in the group I introduced, rounding off the group at ten? He, too, was bright, with good self-presentation and social skills. However, his behavior—and his story, if known—might have given some parents pause. After his parents divorced when he was two, he lived with his mother in another state. At sixteen, after becoming familiar to the juvenile court system, he was sent to live with his father, who found that trying to impose discipline on his angry son was not easy. There were behavior problems when Randall first arrived at his new school. About his father, he asked, rhetorically, “What right does he have to tell me what to do when he hasn’t been in my life?”
Randall became a valued contributor in one of the discussion groups for gifted adolescents that I facilitated. Discreetly and appropriately, he articulated his sadness, anger, regrets, and insights, and his gifted peers were edified—about life, feelings, and transitions. I learned later that by age 22 he was doing well, by any measure. By affirming his gifts and bringing him into contact with others with similar ability, the gifted program had helped him through “a rough patch.” I was grateful that administrators, father, and teachers had not restricted him from attending the weekly group discussions that he loved during the years he received only Ds and Fs. He needed to be around mindmates who were not failing developmentally and academically. The other group members benefited in many ways from the presence of this sensitive, articulate, sad, troubled adolescent.
His group epitomized the diversity within the stereotypes associated with giftedness. The comments of some of the underachievers were the most insightful. I sometimes wondered if some of them, with a poor fit at school, might be future agents of change in society. They thought “outside of the box” and seemed less likely than the achievers to ask for the rules in order to avoid error. The verve of Randall’s group lay in its diversity— and the bonding that occurred because the emphasis was on growing up, not competing. Bravado quickly disappeared. These handsome, social students appreciated having a place to be complex, diverse, human, and real.
Randall was clearly an at-risk child. But we might argue that all gifted kids are somewhat at risk—not just in being different and potentially misunderstood, but also in facing normal developmental challenges and environmental stressors with somewhat unique sensitivities. Maybe all will sometime face circumstances that are unexpected, traumatic, or disabling in some way. No parent, no matter how conscientious, can ensure that life will always be good and that loved children will always be protected. Misfortune always reminds us that we are all vulnerable—and interconnected. Through it we join the human race, humbled.
Parents can help their gifted children understand that high ability does not preclude unusual stressors. Giftedness also does not necessarily mean precocious social or emotional development. Every child and adolescent faces developmental challenges. Parents give their children a gift when they convey, instead of deny, that commonality. My experiences with 1300 group sessions with gifted adolescents convinced me that too many do not get that message. In fact, according to some, parental messages seemed to focus largely on performance, not development. Discovering developmental commonalities with diverse peers, especially in the social and emotional realms, seems inevitably to ease the tension inherent in the competitive school environment. Parents who celebrate those connections model both respect for differences and affi rmation of shared human experiences—and help their children to function effectively in the larger world in the present and in the future.
Conclusion
That is how I will conclude. The ten students I introduced earlier, regardless of their cultural homogeneity, were quite diverse. They all needed respect, friendship, and support during their school years. They needed to feel connected to their peers and to their school. They needed to feel valued for who they were at that point in their lives. Fortunately, though at times they felt overwhelmed, they were all resilient. Some had supportive parents, and others had the ability to engage at least one adult advocate. A gifted program was an important support for many of them. Parents and programs hold a great deal of power, in terms of encouraging or discouraging affi rmation of strengths and of “differences.” When both parents and programs can affirm and embrace gifted individuals who are coping with difficult circumstances and give them support for developing their abilities and talents, the ripple effect can be amazing. Even when students do, in fact, fit common stereotypes of “gifted,” they can benefit when both commonalities and differences are celebrated.
Author Note. Dr. Jean Sunde Peterson is a faculty member inthe Department of Educational Studies at Purdue University inWest Lafayette, Indiana. She has conducted research and writtenextensively on the social and emotional needs of gifted students.