When M was younger, I was convinced I was doing something wrong. She didn't play with her toys. Preschooleers are supposed to love toys. I must be doing something wrong.
We found some things she played with a little bit, then they stayed on the shelf while seh did crafts or read books or sat around looking aimless. I felt like a bad mom. Maybe I was being too frugal. I bought more toys.
Whenever she liked something, we went all out. Everyone in the family pitched in at birthdays and Christmas to get her the theme toy that she had been playing with. It didn't last long. I decided I had overdone it and ruined the enjoyment of that toy. I would have to do better next time.
After a while, I decided she must be really tired and just wanted to do art and watch movies. I bought more movies. I happen to love kids' movies more than M, so this was a less uncomfortable adventure for me. However, she got bored of the movies, too. It became another thing she'd sigh and accept, but not thoroughly enjoy. Fail. Again.
I recently heard a mom talking about a similar experience and it got me remembering. After we figured out that giftedness had a lot to do with this dynamic, we bought as many used nonfiction books as we could carry at a used curriculum sale.
We snuck them into the basement and onto a bookshelf, then surprised her with it. Finally, we got the reaction you'd expect on Christmas morning. It was Timelife Books and Usborne books and National Geographic books, etc. We had purchased almost everything science or animal related that we could find. We were both shaking as our muscles barely made it to the car with our load. It even took more than a week for her to read them all. Seriously, that's like a lifetime supply for some kids. Score. Finally.
Emma Watson is quoted as saying something like, "Don't think you're stupid just because you don't like the things everyone else pretends to like." I love that quote. I felt like the temporary toy interest was very much like that. I think M felt that she was supposed to like toys, listened to friends/classmates and latched on to that. When it was ust her, however, she'd much rather have a book. Only when we gifted her in an area of passion did she get excited. That is obvious to me now, but took us a long time to figure out.
Even though I have some intelligence and am aware of (and even embrace) my idiosynchrosies as fun ornaments on my personality, I fell victim to the social norms. Whether or not a person of any age is gifted or not, they need to feel free to pursue their passions. So long as it's not destructive, I think anything should go. As adults we do that. Why do we treat kids differently?
So, am I having a contest to give away all those unused toys? No. M sold almost all of them (because I made her keep some) in a garage sale and used the money to buy pet supplies. She has had no regrets & made a killing at that garage sale. My niece thinks I got rid of all my daughter's toys. She must think I'm the meanest mom ever. . .
The lessons I learned are:
1. Spending money on something the gift receiver isn't interested in is a huge waste of money.
2. Happiness is pursuing your passions.
3. Being like other people doesn't create happiness.
4. Being a good mom might look like something entirely different to an outsider.
5. People will judge.
6. I need to get over my insecurities and suck it up.
7. "Thou shalt not judge" probably means I shouldn't get all worked up about the judgement.
This was a good reminder just before the holidays as I'm tempted to enlarge the pile of presents. This year, our present situation is even more atypical than usual. M is the one reminding us that we already have our big Christmas present - we got a new pet this Fall & the timing was better earlier, but it really was a Christmas present plan. It was an awesome choice for the whole family.
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year. Wishing you comfort & peace, relaxation & laughter.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Thursday, December 5, 2013
HAPPY Holidays, you say? Inspiration from sadness through a gifted friend.
Let me begin by telling you that I do wish everyone the happiest possible holidays. I apologize for the big break in posts. I had a happy Thanksgiving, but I haven't had a happy season of life.
Happy holidays is not a reality for everyone. Statistics attest to the fact that major health issues (that are complicated by stress like stroke and heart attack) go up during the holidays, and I'm sure it's not entirely from culinary overindulgence or increased debtload with holiday expenses. Worse yet, suicide rates go up during the holidays.
Life is not a Hallmark card, and the Hallmark company's spin on things has become a cause for derision from me. Why is it so bad that it's not a happy time for some? Most people who have gone through major struggles/trauma will attest to this conclusion. While they wouldn't wish it on others, they would not give up what they gained from the experience. Less than happy does not necessarily mean less than anything else. There is great value in the less euphoric emotions and seasons in life. They are real and valuable.
If you are in a happy season of life, I am genuinely happy for you. I hope that you can snuggle into that, basking in contentment or whatever positive experience you're in. Better than that, I hope it produces outflow that shows the best of you. That might mean smiling at strangers, financially supporting an amazing charity, doing amazing volunteer work, or simply being a bright spot in the daily lives of others just by being yourself. The last example reminds me of an amazing friend who has had a difficult year and yet is more present and thoughtful and generous than most people, even in the midst of difficulties. Such grace. . .
If you are not in a bright spot, my wish for you is a safe place to embrace the reality of your situation . . . your season . . . yourself. The things you are going through right now are part of you, reality and important. "Your story isn't boring, by the way. We're only given the one life. . . they matter. Maybe only to us, but they matter." ~ Tea Leoni as Gwen in Ghost Town.
One part of my life this year was the death of a friend. It was not the first time I had lost a friend "too young" - whatever that means. It will not be the last. It was not a quick or easy passing. There are opportunities and possibilities I grieve for her. I grieve for her husband who had too few years with her. I grieve for her mother, who never expected to bury her daughter. . . . so many possibilities for such an amazing person . . .
She continues to inspire me after her death. She's that kind of a person. I shared this link on facebook and she responded to it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJi_7f1cpbk It is an artist she had heard of and loved. It was a song she had somehow not discovered previously. Her embrace and enthusiasm of the song really impacted me. You'd think that she would be just depressed and a mess as she listened to it. Maybe she was sometimes. She certainly was justified to feel some self-pity, but I never saw it. This song seemed to invigorate her. She believed it with every fiber of her being.
I had listened to it repeatedly before her comments, but afterward . . . I has become a calming song, rather than a ranting song. At her funeral, all I wanted to do was hug the people who loved her so much and thank them for what an amazing person they had enabled to be in my life. I wanted to tell them my selfish reasons for missing her. Since then, I have thought that I may have finally figured out what's important to do at funerals. I have attended many in the last 34 years, but this one left me feeling like a better person afterwards.
My goal was not self-congratulations or self-promotion. My goal was to maintain self-control enough to be a comfort there, rather than add to the grief. Keeping it together might be accurate as my goal heading in. However, when I approached her husband, who barely knew me, all I wanted to do was thank him for making my friend so happy. I did. He seemed surprised and said, "She made ME happy." Her mother embraced me so much more strongly than I expected. Apparently, my friend had talked about the ladies I attended the funeral with and about me, and she felt a connection. I never knew. I held her mother, cried with her, rocked her, and told her what an amazing woman she raised and how much I loved having her in my life. That is honestly what flowed from my heart and my mouth. She cried even harder, but also smiled.
Oh, to be the kind of person who could inspire this kind of reaction from others after I am gone . . . it is a new passionate ambition after this experience. She still inspires me to be a better person. Even though I miss her and still cry, I like remembering her. I feel a mix of sadness and pleasure at the memories. In order to have my Hallmark card moments, I would lose the tears and grief, but I'd also lose the richness and love and inspiration. Never would I choose such a thing!
There are other sadnesses in our lives that have less inspiration attached to them. Those take longer to see benefit from, in my experience. They are still part of me. Again, I would not trade them. If I did, I would no longer be the person I have come to like better with passing time. They were an opportunity and impetus to evolve as a person. They are valuable, even when they resulted in injuries, pain, or even a necessary chasm.
If you are in a sad season, and you want to embrace that right now, I hope you will. It's genuine and can be very honorable and healthy. It doesn't make your holidays a failure. We are trying to take the opportunity to start some new traditions, and also to do some one-time things this season. I hope that my friend's family misses her terribly & tells stories about her that make them cry and smile and laugh and wish she were there . . . Those are very valuable moments. That is a successful holiday season.
If you are estranged from family, as so many are, I hope you gather some chosen family or new friends and have fun. One of my favorite traditions was inspired by a casual friend whose family saw a movie on each holiday. They went in their pajamas, and it was never busy. I love movies. We are incorporating more of those into our holidays, and sometimes with new friends. It feels good. Different? Yes. Good? Definitely!
Wisdom is knowing that rich experiences are worth so much more than smiles and pretty hollow words. I wish you an inspirational holiday season. We celebrate Christmas, so I wish you Merry Christmas, but not in the sense of hollow pretty words. I hope it is time to reflect, make choices, relax, grow and sink into the moments. May they be warm ones, happy or otherwise.
Happy holidays is not a reality for everyone. Statistics attest to the fact that major health issues (that are complicated by stress like stroke and heart attack) go up during the holidays, and I'm sure it's not entirely from culinary overindulgence or increased debtload with holiday expenses. Worse yet, suicide rates go up during the holidays.
Life is not a Hallmark card, and the Hallmark company's spin on things has become a cause for derision from me. Why is it so bad that it's not a happy time for some? Most people who have gone through major struggles/trauma will attest to this conclusion. While they wouldn't wish it on others, they would not give up what they gained from the experience. Less than happy does not necessarily mean less than anything else. There is great value in the less euphoric emotions and seasons in life. They are real and valuable.
If you are in a happy season of life, I am genuinely happy for you. I hope that you can snuggle into that, basking in contentment or whatever positive experience you're in. Better than that, I hope it produces outflow that shows the best of you. That might mean smiling at strangers, financially supporting an amazing charity, doing amazing volunteer work, or simply being a bright spot in the daily lives of others just by being yourself. The last example reminds me of an amazing friend who has had a difficult year and yet is more present and thoughtful and generous than most people, even in the midst of difficulties. Such grace. . .
If you are not in a bright spot, my wish for you is a safe place to embrace the reality of your situation . . . your season . . . yourself. The things you are going through right now are part of you, reality and important. "Your story isn't boring, by the way. We're only given the one life. . . they matter. Maybe only to us, but they matter." ~ Tea Leoni as Gwen in Ghost Town.
One part of my life this year was the death of a friend. It was not the first time I had lost a friend "too young" - whatever that means. It will not be the last. It was not a quick or easy passing. There are opportunities and possibilities I grieve for her. I grieve for her husband who had too few years with her. I grieve for her mother, who never expected to bury her daughter. . . . so many possibilities for such an amazing person . . .
She continues to inspire me after her death. She's that kind of a person. I shared this link on facebook and she responded to it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJi_7f1cpbk It is an artist she had heard of and loved. It was a song she had somehow not discovered previously. Her embrace and enthusiasm of the song really impacted me. You'd think that she would be just depressed and a mess as she listened to it. Maybe she was sometimes. She certainly was justified to feel some self-pity, but I never saw it. This song seemed to invigorate her. She believed it with every fiber of her being.
I had listened to it repeatedly before her comments, but afterward . . . I has become a calming song, rather than a ranting song. At her funeral, all I wanted to do was hug the people who loved her so much and thank them for what an amazing person they had enabled to be in my life. I wanted to tell them my selfish reasons for missing her. Since then, I have thought that I may have finally figured out what's important to do at funerals. I have attended many in the last 34 years, but this one left me feeling like a better person afterwards.
My goal was not self-congratulations or self-promotion. My goal was to maintain self-control enough to be a comfort there, rather than add to the grief. Keeping it together might be accurate as my goal heading in. However, when I approached her husband, who barely knew me, all I wanted to do was thank him for making my friend so happy. I did. He seemed surprised and said, "She made ME happy." Her mother embraced me so much more strongly than I expected. Apparently, my friend had talked about the ladies I attended the funeral with and about me, and she felt a connection. I never knew. I held her mother, cried with her, rocked her, and told her what an amazing woman she raised and how much I loved having her in my life. That is honestly what flowed from my heart and my mouth. She cried even harder, but also smiled.
Oh, to be the kind of person who could inspire this kind of reaction from others after I am gone . . . it is a new passionate ambition after this experience. She still inspires me to be a better person. Even though I miss her and still cry, I like remembering her. I feel a mix of sadness and pleasure at the memories. In order to have my Hallmark card moments, I would lose the tears and grief, but I'd also lose the richness and love and inspiration. Never would I choose such a thing!
There are other sadnesses in our lives that have less inspiration attached to them. Those take longer to see benefit from, in my experience. They are still part of me. Again, I would not trade them. If I did, I would no longer be the person I have come to like better with passing time. They were an opportunity and impetus to evolve as a person. They are valuable, even when they resulted in injuries, pain, or even a necessary chasm.
If you are in a sad season, and you want to embrace that right now, I hope you will. It's genuine and can be very honorable and healthy. It doesn't make your holidays a failure. We are trying to take the opportunity to start some new traditions, and also to do some one-time things this season. I hope that my friend's family misses her terribly & tells stories about her that make them cry and smile and laugh and wish she were there . . . Those are very valuable moments. That is a successful holiday season.
If you are estranged from family, as so many are, I hope you gather some chosen family or new friends and have fun. One of my favorite traditions was inspired by a casual friend whose family saw a movie on each holiday. They went in their pajamas, and it was never busy. I love movies. We are incorporating more of those into our holidays, and sometimes with new friends. It feels good. Different? Yes. Good? Definitely!
Wisdom is knowing that rich experiences are worth so much more than smiles and pretty hollow words. I wish you an inspirational holiday season. We celebrate Christmas, so I wish you Merry Christmas, but not in the sense of hollow pretty words. I hope it is time to reflect, make choices, relax, grow and sink into the moments. May they be warm ones, happy or otherwise.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Pride and Disappointment - the novel of a mother in gifted circles
Everyone has heard of Pride & Prejudice. Most have read it more than once. It's a huge thing in our world. I know there is plenty of pride within the families of gifted children - both the positive and negative kinds, and I know there is plenty of prejudice coming toward them from outside.
In parenting, I am trying to remind myself of the truths that I want ingrained in my child, as I believe most parents do. One of the big struggles for me is the reality that we can only control ourselves, and never other people. We can influence, love, hate, or whatever . . . We cannot control others. This has been one of the most difficult things for me to accept as an adult who grew up hearing, "you can be anything," and "you can do anything," as most girls of my generation did. However, that's not true. We cannot control others. So, I am intentional about teaching my girl that she cannot do "anything," but she can make her own choices, including how to react to others.
Along those lines, I decided to focus on our impressions of life from inside our sphere. Instead of Pride & Prejudice, I land in Pride and Disappointment.
I am immensely proud of my child. Not only does she work really hard, but she prioritizes her energy and time, and she accomplishes amazing things. Some things come easily for her. Others do not. She gets more joy from the things she has had to work very hard to achieve. I love that about her. That is healthy pride.
Does this sound like a typical kid to you? Me too. In fact, gifted kids are typical in many ways. Not everything about them is atypical.
Over the last two or three weeks, I've heard an alarming number of stories of extended families who are not supportive. This is extremely disappointing. My grandmother was one of my biggest advocates, even though I was not a typical child. Years after her death, that is still a source of peace for me. These children whose grandparents are not supportive will not have that.
That is a loss for the children who could benefit from greater support from extended family - their roots, or family tree, or whatever you'd like to call it. However, I'd argue that it's a bigger loss for the adults involved. The children have never known a different situation. The adults, however, have a different level of awareness, and a poignant feeling of loss. Worst yet are the people who are missing out on these incredible children (since every child is amazing), and they don't even feel the loss. I pity those people.
Is this a societal pattern? Maybe. Probably. I don't know, and as usual, don't care to do the research. However, I wonder if it's more prevalent in atypical circles. Logically, it makes sense, and I have noticed that pattern recently.
Think about the incredible people throughout history that we know. Mozart died in poverty, and yet, he is still well-known today. Most famous artists lived in relative to extreme poverty and their artwork was recognized and increased exponentially in value only after they died. Einstein struggled in school before coming up with concepts that still bewilder many today. Did they have an easy life? I imagine not.
Here's another angle to consider. People in gifted circles are famously (or infamously) quirky and often lacking social skills because they do not operate and interact in the common way. They learn to cope. Musicians and artists are stereotyped to be riddled with unhealthy behaviors: alcohol, drugs, gambling, etc. Maybe they are unhappy because of a perceived lack of support and are coping (unwisely). Maybe.
So, I've been wondering about the pattern of insufficiently supportive extended families in atypical circles. I have repeatedly mentioned my belief that these atypicalities are genetic neurological differences. Is that something that supports a pattern of difficulty or inability to have healthy family relationships? Does that make it more difficult for the various members of an extended family to cope similarly and understand one another effectively? Maybe. Probably.
When I think of it this way I am still stuck in disappointment. However, it doesn't lend itself toward anger aimed at individuals, but sorrow in a situation. That might be my healthiest reaction for now. I hope that my choices are decent ones, and that they will lead to the greatest possibility of hope for the future, as well as the greatest potential happiness for everyone involved.
As the holidays approach, I wish you a season filled with love. I wish you a season filled with support and happiness. If your family is a source for this, soak that up. If not, I challenge you to recognize that my new friend N is very wise in saying, "family is the people who love you." Gifts? Whatever. They are fun, and we exchanged them. However, they do not bring happiness, especially the lasting kind. M shared with me that St Nicholas Day is her favorite holiday. Clearly, the larger gifts exchanged on Christmas are not as meaningful to her. I am so glad for her. It is one more hurdle that, at least for now, she need not jump on her track happiness. Peace & love to you.
In parenting, I am trying to remind myself of the truths that I want ingrained in my child, as I believe most parents do. One of the big struggles for me is the reality that we can only control ourselves, and never other people. We can influence, love, hate, or whatever . . . We cannot control others. This has been one of the most difficult things for me to accept as an adult who grew up hearing, "you can be anything," and "you can do anything," as most girls of my generation did. However, that's not true. We cannot control others. So, I am intentional about teaching my girl that she cannot do "anything," but she can make her own choices, including how to react to others.
Along those lines, I decided to focus on our impressions of life from inside our sphere. Instead of Pride & Prejudice, I land in Pride and Disappointment.
I am immensely proud of my child. Not only does she work really hard, but she prioritizes her energy and time, and she accomplishes amazing things. Some things come easily for her. Others do not. She gets more joy from the things she has had to work very hard to achieve. I love that about her. That is healthy pride.
Does this sound like a typical kid to you? Me too. In fact, gifted kids are typical in many ways. Not everything about them is atypical.
Over the last two or three weeks, I've heard an alarming number of stories of extended families who are not supportive. This is extremely disappointing. My grandmother was one of my biggest advocates, even though I was not a typical child. Years after her death, that is still a source of peace for me. These children whose grandparents are not supportive will not have that.
That is a loss for the children who could benefit from greater support from extended family - their roots, or family tree, or whatever you'd like to call it. However, I'd argue that it's a bigger loss for the adults involved. The children have never known a different situation. The adults, however, have a different level of awareness, and a poignant feeling of loss. Worst yet are the people who are missing out on these incredible children (since every child is amazing), and they don't even feel the loss. I pity those people.
Is this a societal pattern? Maybe. Probably. I don't know, and as usual, don't care to do the research. However, I wonder if it's more prevalent in atypical circles. Logically, it makes sense, and I have noticed that pattern recently.
Think about the incredible people throughout history that we know. Mozart died in poverty, and yet, he is still well-known today. Most famous artists lived in relative to extreme poverty and their artwork was recognized and increased exponentially in value only after they died. Einstein struggled in school before coming up with concepts that still bewilder many today. Did they have an easy life? I imagine not.
Here's another angle to consider. People in gifted circles are famously (or infamously) quirky and often lacking social skills because they do not operate and interact in the common way. They learn to cope. Musicians and artists are stereotyped to be riddled with unhealthy behaviors: alcohol, drugs, gambling, etc. Maybe they are unhappy because of a perceived lack of support and are coping (unwisely). Maybe.
So, I've been wondering about the pattern of insufficiently supportive extended families in atypical circles. I have repeatedly mentioned my belief that these atypicalities are genetic neurological differences. Is that something that supports a pattern of difficulty or inability to have healthy family relationships? Does that make it more difficult for the various members of an extended family to cope similarly and understand one another effectively? Maybe. Probably.
When I think of it this way I am still stuck in disappointment. However, it doesn't lend itself toward anger aimed at individuals, but sorrow in a situation. That might be my healthiest reaction for now. I hope that my choices are decent ones, and that they will lead to the greatest possibility of hope for the future, as well as the greatest potential happiness for everyone involved.
As the holidays approach, I wish you a season filled with love. I wish you a season filled with support and happiness. If your family is a source for this, soak that up. If not, I challenge you to recognize that my new friend N is very wise in saying, "family is the people who love you." Gifts? Whatever. They are fun, and we exchanged them. However, they do not bring happiness, especially the lasting kind. M shared with me that St Nicholas Day is her favorite holiday. Clearly, the larger gifts exchanged on Christmas are not as meaningful to her. I am so glad for her. It is one more hurdle that, at least for now, she need not jump on her track happiness. Peace & love to you.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
The difficult childhood of the incredible adult: Helene Girmaud & Living with Intensity
Living with Intensity is a book I have mentioned before.
Chapter one opens with an exerpt from the memoirs of Helene Grimaud entitled Wild Harmonies: A life of Music and Wolves. Her adult life has been that of a conert pianist. She also created a Wolf Conservation Center. I admire someone who has been able to significantly pursue and affect multiple areas of passion in life and hope to be included in that group throughout my life.
She is used as an example of the assertion that "The emotional intensity and high level of energy of a gifted child cannot be ignored. . . . [They] take in information from the world around them; they react and respond more quickly and intensely than other children. . . . Their excitement is viewed as excessive, their high energy as hyperactivity, their persistence as nagging, their questioning as undermining authority, their imagination as not paying attention, their passion as being disruptive, their strong emotions and sensitivity as immaturity, their creativity and self-directdeness as oppositional." In the case of Helene Girmaud, I challenge you to find a moving musician who is not an emotional person. If they were not emotional, how could they move us with their performance? You must understand and experience emotions in order to communicate them well, through music or other language.
Our childhood can set the stage of our emotional life. As we are discovering and categorizing and learning, we are grasping to understand our place in this world we are exploring. An extreme example is abusive generational patterns. What we see as children, we assume is normal. This is also true of the feedback we receive about ourselves, from those who know us and those who do not, as well as in our own minds as we compare ourselves to others. Helene's memoirs indicate that she heard a vary large number of negative adjectives aimed her direction, and yet, she accomplished so much and affected so many . . .
Here's another quote from Living with Itensity. "It is of course unfortunate that something exceptional, something that is outside of the norm, is often looked upon as being abnormal, and that 'abnormal' usually means annoying or bad, where as 'normal means mostly acceptable or good. We forget that these notions come from a stasticial convention, the bell curve, which does not tell us what is goo and what is bad."
And so, by page 4, I am completely sold and MUST continue reading. I only hope not to lose too much sleep over the next few days. Have you read it, yet? If not, and this sounds familiar or just intriguing, you should. If you have already enjoyed this USA Book News Best Books Award Finalist, what is your favorite or most moving part?
Chapter one opens with an exerpt from the memoirs of Helene Grimaud entitled Wild Harmonies: A life of Music and Wolves. Her adult life has been that of a conert pianist. She also created a Wolf Conservation Center. I admire someone who has been able to significantly pursue and affect multiple areas of passion in life and hope to be included in that group throughout my life.
She is used as an example of the assertion that "The emotional intensity and high level of energy of a gifted child cannot be ignored. . . . [They] take in information from the world around them; they react and respond more quickly and intensely than other children. . . . Their excitement is viewed as excessive, their high energy as hyperactivity, their persistence as nagging, their questioning as undermining authority, their imagination as not paying attention, their passion as being disruptive, their strong emotions and sensitivity as immaturity, their creativity and self-directdeness as oppositional." In the case of Helene Girmaud, I challenge you to find a moving musician who is not an emotional person. If they were not emotional, how could they move us with their performance? You must understand and experience emotions in order to communicate them well, through music or other language.
Our childhood can set the stage of our emotional life. As we are discovering and categorizing and learning, we are grasping to understand our place in this world we are exploring. An extreme example is abusive generational patterns. What we see as children, we assume is normal. This is also true of the feedback we receive about ourselves, from those who know us and those who do not, as well as in our own minds as we compare ourselves to others. Helene's memoirs indicate that she heard a vary large number of negative adjectives aimed her direction, and yet, she accomplished so much and affected so many . . .
Here's another quote from Living with Itensity. "It is of course unfortunate that something exceptional, something that is outside of the norm, is often looked upon as being abnormal, and that 'abnormal' usually means annoying or bad, where as 'normal means mostly acceptable or good. We forget that these notions come from a stasticial convention, the bell curve, which does not tell us what is goo and what is bad."
And so, by page 4, I am completely sold and MUST continue reading. I only hope not to lose too much sleep over the next few days. Have you read it, yet? If not, and this sounds familiar or just intriguing, you should. If you have already enjoyed this USA Book News Best Books Award Finalist, what is your favorite or most moving part?
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Gifted kids struggle with school, and so do their parents
Check out this video before reading this post, please.
http://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/family-life/camera-shows-dad-wailing-with-joy-at-sons-math-grade.html
If you read the text along with it, you'll see that the boy taping it was failing math a year ago, and has just passed it . . . forever. He seems ecstatic, probably to be done with math, but also to tell his dad.
He looks to be an age where stereotypically, kids are supposed to flee from their parents, and boys are supposed to be macho. Yet, he has an exuberant smile, sets up a camera, and basks in the emotional response of his father. He enthusiastically returns the hugs (did he initiate the one when his dad first starts crying?) and allows his head to be kissed. Judging by his expression ending the video, I'm guessing he intends to revel in his father's joy over and over again.
I watched it twice. I'm still teared up. I might have to watch it a third time right now to answer my own question. As I watch, I experience it differently from the boy.
As a parent, I see palpable relief and pride in the father's reaction. He goes from excitement, to release of tension, to pride and love for his son . . . and on to a more subdued recapitulation of the whole experience. It is over. All of the hard work is done. It paid off. All of the worry about the emotions and journey of his child is over, at least for this particular subject. Isn't that parenting? "You're set for life," he tells his son.
In a matter of months, I lost count of how many people told us that educating our daughter must be easy. The assumption was that being gifted is as simple as being smart. Along with that go the assumptions that the gifted are quick to learn, quick to read, early in everything they do and high achievers. Let me attest to the fact that gifted children are just as complicated as the rest of the population. They fail things. They struggle. They have to work hard. All of the difficult things that can happen to other children, can happen to gifted kids. If you don't believe me, do an online search for nobel prize winners that struggled in school.
Our personal experience has been a mix of easy and hard, just like the rest of the population. It took me only a few weeks to give up trying to explain this to people. Instead, I got flabbergasted expressions when I simply answered a straightforward and straight-faced, "No, it's not." With people I trust, and in the privacy of solitude, I would rage at the ridiculousness of anyone having the impertinence to not only assume, but state boldly, "that must be easy." I've gained a small degree of calm on this topic over the years, and now believe that these people must see the world as black and white. While I sometimes think "ignorance is bliss" with wistfulness, I would not give up the gorgeous color and texture of our complex world for that delusion of simplicity. If that means I'm guilty of snobbery, calling people ignorant, so be it. They certainly are ignorant of our situation. I think it as likely that I'm guilty of bitterness and the anger that can come with that.
I have seen my daughter get as excited as the boy in that link. She has done so many amazing things in her few years. However, the things that really get her excited like that are not often the ones that have a lot of pomp and circumstance. The biggest joy that our family experiences is in moments like those in that video. They are the moments where we have accomplished something hard-won. The tears of relief and joy my husband and I cry with our daughter are reminiscent of the tears we secretly cried during the struggle and hard work, except that those tears were hidden from her most of the time.
I want to make sure you catch this. The boy got a C.
He and his father set a reasonable goal, made it, and both guys were emotional about that. How many parents would get mad about the fail? How many kids and parents would say, "Do the best you can," or "Aim for a B," or any number of other things that might be less . . . . what word to use? I think I like leaving it at less. This dad said "If you can get a C, you can do anything." That's a cool dad. He inspires me to be a better parent. That man is inspiring so many people with his loving reaction to a C, gone viral via his son's recording.
Growing up, I was very much an overachiever. However, I cannot ever remember my parents getting that excited. It wasn't that they didn't care, but they would never have reacted like the father in the video. I'm not sure if I could throw off my reserve enough to be that cool, either. However, my husband is, and I am learning.
It reminds me of another article that I read recently about the importance and power of saying, "I love to watch you _____." Those are powerful words, and I'm intentionally including them in my parenting. Maybe it's a homeschooling by-product, but teaching and correcting come all too easily. Instead, I'm intentionally saying, "I love to see you having fun." Taking the performance out of it clears the path for happiness and simply enjoying the experience.
My daughter is teaching me enthusiasm and encouragement, as well. She gets more excited for me than I do for myself, and that is a beautiful thing. It's also a parallel. I sometimes think my reaction to her getting past a hurtle is bigger than hers, at least inside. We are teaching each other.
I hope that we will continue to share the richness of life as this father and son appear to. And yes, we celebrate C's. She is no more or less gifted because of a label in the form of a grade. Besdies, my high grades did little for me over the long run. They are not currency for happiness, and they were not required for the goals that make me happy. If you need grades and degrees to achieve your goals, and those goals make you happy, work for those grades! In my case, they were like a cheap pastic trophy - you know the kind, where the screw won't even get tight enough to keep the metallic-painted person facing forward. That kind of award makes us try and remember why we wanted it so badly, and it demotivates as opposed to motivates our future endeavors.
I won't say that I wish struggles on you. However, you will and do have them. So, I will hope that your experiences following the struggles are as wonderful and rich as those in this video. There is a chorus that just jumped into my head, recorded by Warren Barfield. "Love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for." May your enjoyment be amplified by the effort it took to achieve it.
http://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/family-life/camera-shows-dad-wailing-with-joy-at-sons-math-grade.html
If you read the text along with it, you'll see that the boy taping it was failing math a year ago, and has just passed it . . . forever. He seems ecstatic, probably to be done with math, but also to tell his dad.
He looks to be an age where stereotypically, kids are supposed to flee from their parents, and boys are supposed to be macho. Yet, he has an exuberant smile, sets up a camera, and basks in the emotional response of his father. He enthusiastically returns the hugs (did he initiate the one when his dad first starts crying?) and allows his head to be kissed. Judging by his expression ending the video, I'm guessing he intends to revel in his father's joy over and over again.
I watched it twice. I'm still teared up. I might have to watch it a third time right now to answer my own question. As I watch, I experience it differently from the boy.
As a parent, I see palpable relief and pride in the father's reaction. He goes from excitement, to release of tension, to pride and love for his son . . . and on to a more subdued recapitulation of the whole experience. It is over. All of the hard work is done. It paid off. All of the worry about the emotions and journey of his child is over, at least for this particular subject. Isn't that parenting? "You're set for life," he tells his son.
In a matter of months, I lost count of how many people told us that educating our daughter must be easy. The assumption was that being gifted is as simple as being smart. Along with that go the assumptions that the gifted are quick to learn, quick to read, early in everything they do and high achievers. Let me attest to the fact that gifted children are just as complicated as the rest of the population. They fail things. They struggle. They have to work hard. All of the difficult things that can happen to other children, can happen to gifted kids. If you don't believe me, do an online search for nobel prize winners that struggled in school.
Our personal experience has been a mix of easy and hard, just like the rest of the population. It took me only a few weeks to give up trying to explain this to people. Instead, I got flabbergasted expressions when I simply answered a straightforward and straight-faced, "No, it's not." With people I trust, and in the privacy of solitude, I would rage at the ridiculousness of anyone having the impertinence to not only assume, but state boldly, "that must be easy." I've gained a small degree of calm on this topic over the years, and now believe that these people must see the world as black and white. While I sometimes think "ignorance is bliss" with wistfulness, I would not give up the gorgeous color and texture of our complex world for that delusion of simplicity. If that means I'm guilty of snobbery, calling people ignorant, so be it. They certainly are ignorant of our situation. I think it as likely that I'm guilty of bitterness and the anger that can come with that.
I have seen my daughter get as excited as the boy in that link. She has done so many amazing things in her few years. However, the things that really get her excited like that are not often the ones that have a lot of pomp and circumstance. The biggest joy that our family experiences is in moments like those in that video. They are the moments where we have accomplished something hard-won. The tears of relief and joy my husband and I cry with our daughter are reminiscent of the tears we secretly cried during the struggle and hard work, except that those tears were hidden from her most of the time.
I want to make sure you catch this. The boy got a C.
He and his father set a reasonable goal, made it, and both guys were emotional about that. How many parents would get mad about the fail? How many kids and parents would say, "Do the best you can," or "Aim for a B," or any number of other things that might be less . . . . what word to use? I think I like leaving it at less. This dad said "If you can get a C, you can do anything." That's a cool dad. He inspires me to be a better parent. That man is inspiring so many people with his loving reaction to a C, gone viral via his son's recording.
Growing up, I was very much an overachiever. However, I cannot ever remember my parents getting that excited. It wasn't that they didn't care, but they would never have reacted like the father in the video. I'm not sure if I could throw off my reserve enough to be that cool, either. However, my husband is, and I am learning.
It reminds me of another article that I read recently about the importance and power of saying, "I love to watch you _____." Those are powerful words, and I'm intentionally including them in my parenting. Maybe it's a homeschooling by-product, but teaching and correcting come all too easily. Instead, I'm intentionally saying, "I love to see you having fun." Taking the performance out of it clears the path for happiness and simply enjoying the experience.
My daughter is teaching me enthusiasm and encouragement, as well. She gets more excited for me than I do for myself, and that is a beautiful thing. It's also a parallel. I sometimes think my reaction to her getting past a hurtle is bigger than hers, at least inside. We are teaching each other.
I hope that we will continue to share the richness of life as this father and son appear to. And yes, we celebrate C's. She is no more or less gifted because of a label in the form of a grade. Besdies, my high grades did little for me over the long run. They are not currency for happiness, and they were not required for the goals that make me happy. If you need grades and degrees to achieve your goals, and those goals make you happy, work for those grades! In my case, they were like a cheap pastic trophy - you know the kind, where the screw won't even get tight enough to keep the metallic-painted person facing forward. That kind of award makes us try and remember why we wanted it so badly, and it demotivates as opposed to motivates our future endeavors.
I won't say that I wish struggles on you. However, you will and do have them. So, I will hope that your experiences following the struggles are as wonderful and rich as those in this video. There is a chorus that just jumped into my head, recorded by Warren Barfield. "Love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for." May your enjoyment be amplified by the effort it took to achieve it.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Define Homeschooler
I ran across this on facebook and had to share it. I hear so many people react with strong impressions about what homeschooling is. This was fun.
http://www.quickstarthomeschool.com/2013/10/misconceptions-about-homeschoolers-are-we-really-who-you-think-we-are/
http://www.quickstarthomeschool.com/2013/10/misconceptions-about-homeschoolers-are-we-really-who-you-think-we-are/
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