- Talk early (and never stop talking!)
Neither J nor Z spoke early. But they never stop talking! They may have spoken earlier if we had not taught them to sign, but we communicated with them much younger because we did. - Skip the period of grammatical errors ("I falled," "he gots") that most toddlers go through
J used adverbs correctly from the beginning. I don't really know how many mistakes most toddlers make, but J didn't make many. Z makes a few more, like saying, "There's ours house!" and "That hurted." It would almost be sad if he didn't, though. - Pronounce words correctly from the start
It seems like J & Z don't attempt words if they can't say them. We thought maybe Z didn't know the color orange, but he just couldn't say it right, so he didn't. I think they're definitely on the side of pronouncing things right off the bat more often than not. - Quickly develop a large and advanced vocabulary
J & Z's vocabularies are a source of great amusement to us. It's so funny to hear tiny voices say unexpectedly complex words. - Use complex sentence structure (conjunctions like "however" and "although")
If parents don't use words like "however," it's unlikely their children will. Ours use the word "but" instead, because we parents do. - Make up elaborate stories
Z is more of a story-teller, but neither really makes up stories. - Easily memorize poems and stories
We need to get Z on video reciting his two favorite books. They're quite complex, with phrases like, "Across that sea so wide banana tree she spied. 'How delectable,' she sighed!" - Enjoy reciting poems and rhymes
I had to dig back into the memories for this one. J used to recite nursery rhymes quite easily. Both of them like singing songs better now. - Prefer books with more words and fewer pictures
Z still likes picture books, but he's only 2. J prefers books that teach him a concept, non-fiction books, or complex stories. - Catch you if you skip parts of books you're reading aloud to him
Don't let Z catch you skipping a page of his favorites! - Teach himself to read by asking questions ("What's this letter?" "What's this word?"), watching TV, and/or hearing the same books read aloud several times
I suppose most of their letter learning came from Leap Frog videos, but they were both very interested in letters and wanted me to teach them. They love games involving "what's the first letter in..." or "can you see anything that starts with..." - Read early and progress rapidly
J began reading words at age 3 1/2, but he was afraid of reading big words and sentences. He finally overcame that fear around his 5th birthday, but watch out. He jumped past the See Jane Run kinds of books and reads books with several paragraphs per page, silently (in his head), just 2 months later. - Enjoy playing with words and inventing words
J & Z both like to change the first letter of each word they say. So instead of saying, "Mommy, can I have more lunch?" they say, "Bommy, ban I bav bore bunch?" And then they'll switch to another letter and repeat it over and over again. I think they get bored with plain old English. - Easily and spontaneously describe new experiences
I suppose so. They're hardly ever at a loss for words. - Give complex answers to questions (even simple questions)
Oh my, J is just like his mother this way! - Explain his ideas in complex and unusual ways
Sometimes, I suppose. I would need to hear an example to stir up my memories. - Have an early interest in printing letters, names, and words
Both J & Z love(d) to type messages to their dad on instant messengers. J learned to write rather early, but Z doesn't seem interested. He'd rather type. He spells Dad, Mom, and his name easily. He "wrote" his first word, Dad, in fridge magnets just after he turned 2. But they definitely both posess great interest in letters. Z knew the entire alphabet, upper and lower case, before his 2nd birthday.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
You Know Your Child Is Gifted When... Part Two
Verbal Proficiency (Words, Words, Words)
You Know Your Child Is Gifted When... Part One
The one book in my library about gifted children was You Know You Child Is Gifted When...A Beginner's Guide To Life On the Bright Side.
It was a great first book for me to read, I think. It gives some definitions and identifies several areas of giftedness. Of course, I was reading it with J and Z in mind, trying to identify their strong areas. I'd like to go through all of them and make notes about J and Z as I go. I think I'd better take each area one at a time, though. I don't think I can do more than one a day!
So here's #1.
Advanced Intellectual Ability (Really, Really Smart)
It was a great first book for me to read, I think. It gives some definitions and identifies several areas of giftedness. Of course, I was reading it with J and Z in mind, trying to identify their strong areas. I'd like to go through all of them and make notes about J and Z as I go. I think I'd better take each area one at a time, though. I don't think I can do more than one a day!
So here's #1.
Advanced Intellectual Ability (Really, Really Smart)
- Just seems plain smart in a lot of areas, including some that might surprise you.
This is what people notice first about J & Z. Babysitters and total strangers pick up on it. - Easily grasp new ideas and concepts.
Definitely J. - Understand ideas and concepts more deeply than other children his age.
J tends to show his understanding by expanding the concept beyond what we've discussed with him, or by summarizing the concept while applying it to a new situation. It shows depth, and I don't think that's a common thing for kids his age. - Come up with new ideas and concepts on his own, and apply them in creative and interesting ways.
I can't think of any specific examples. A lot of times, J's wrong, but it's amazing that he's still thinking and trying to apply the things he's learned. - Easily memorize facts, lists, dates, and names.
Because it's spring, we've recently been talking about all the different plants that are now in bloom. I told the boys one time that the trees covered in purple blossoms are plum trees, and the yellow flowering bushes are forsythia. Z spends his car rides shouting, "There's a plum tree!" and J points out all the forsythia (I think Z can't quite wrap his tongue around that word!) - Have an excellent memory and never forget a thing.
We call J an elephant because he never forgets. His amazing memory is one of the first things we noticed about J, primarily when at age 2, he remembered what he'd gotten in his Easter basket at age 1. - Learn new materials and to use new things more easily and quickly than other children his age.
This is hard to compare outside of a school setting. - Really love to learn--which may or may not include loving school.
When we're teaching J something and pause, he says, "what else are you going to tell me?" He's thirsty for learning! - Enjoy playing challenging games and making elaborate plans--the more complex, the better.
Oh my, J makes elaborate plans. Just today, he invented a game and explained the rules to me in great detail, then created the props with his art supplies. He'll often make intricate plans for road trips we'll never take, including where we'll sleep and eat on the way. - Have friends who are older (because he needs someone to match wits and interests with).
Unfortunately, we've moved far too often for him to make any friends. We're working on that now that we're finally settled. His primary source of friends is his church Sunday school class, and they're divided by ages. - Enjoy books, movies, games, and activities meant for older children or even adults.
J fell in love with a movie about sending a robot to Mars when he was still 2. It was definitely meant for adults. He was completely enthralled when we watched American Experience about polio on PBS together. At the library, he always wants Eyewitness books, which seem about right for 6th graders. He also loved (and still does) Bill Nye the Science Guy videos from about age 3, which say they are for 4th grade and up. He can hardly bear to watch an unanimated movie for entertainment, but if it's nonfiction, he's more than happy! - Know many things that other children his age seem totally unaware of.
This is also difficult to measure because of our lack of friends and school experience. But I doubt many of his church friends could discuss black holes, the law of gravity, or viruses and bacteria.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Actually
I don' think I ever wrote this down before, but it's a crack up to hear my 2 year old use the word, "actually." It sounds like "ak-shoe-wee," which makes it even funnier. His tiny little voice, complete with all the usual speech impediments, says some mighty big words.
And last night, he said a very long sentence. He asked if we could go to the park, but we were already on our way to the Green Belt for a walk. So he said, "Maybe we could go to the park AFTER we go to the Green Belt." It just struck me as long. And it demonstrates his understanding of before and after, which J had quite a bit of trouble with. I remember he'd often ask, "Is before dinner right now, or is it later?"
One concept Z doesn't seem to understand is the "if you do this, you'll get this" concept. Like when I say, "you can have more fruit if you eat some more of your pasta." He just says, "I don't want more pasta, I want more fruit." We never waver, so he doesn't get the fruit unless he eats the pasta. Several people have suggested that he does understand, but he just doesn't care enough.
By the way, I'd love it if you would share your experiences in the comments. That is, in the unlikely event that anyone actually finds and reads this blog!
And last night, he said a very long sentence. He asked if we could go to the park, but we were already on our way to the Green Belt for a walk. So he said, "Maybe we could go to the park AFTER we go to the Green Belt." It just struck me as long. And it demonstrates his understanding of before and after, which J had quite a bit of trouble with. I remember he'd often ask, "Is before dinner right now, or is it later?"
One concept Z doesn't seem to understand is the "if you do this, you'll get this" concept. Like when I say, "you can have more fruit if you eat some more of your pasta." He just says, "I don't want more pasta, I want more fruit." We never waver, so he doesn't get the fruit unless he eats the pasta. Several people have suggested that he does understand, but he just doesn't care enough.
By the way, I'd love it if you would share your experiences in the comments. That is, in the unlikely event that anyone actually finds and reads this blog!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Trouble Sleeping
J has been having a hard time falling asleep. His bedtime is 9, but if I stay upstairs near his room, he'll ask me questions for another hour or sometimes longer. I usually tell him that we'll have to look it up in the morning.
The other night, though, I went downstairs immediately after tucking him in. 15 minutes later, he came down and asked for some ideas of how to make himself fall asleep. I told him the usual counting sheep, or singing a song, or even trying to breathe more slowly. He went back upstairs and presumably gave my suggestions a try.
The next night, he was having trouble sleeping again, and questions seemed to be coming a mile a minute. I told him that when I want to fall asleep, I try to think of absolutely nothing. He got a very distressed look on his face and said, "But I can't turn off my brain from what it's doing!"
Finally I suggested that he could say a prayer and talk to Heavenly Father, and that sometimes helps me fall asleep. He got a big smile and said, "Yeah, he likes to hear from us, because we're all his children, even grown ups!"
I didn't hear from him again that night, so I think maybe he found relief from his racing thoughts and his quest for knowledge.
The other night, though, I went downstairs immediately after tucking him in. 15 minutes later, he came down and asked for some ideas of how to make himself fall asleep. I told him the usual counting sheep, or singing a song, or even trying to breathe more slowly. He went back upstairs and presumably gave my suggestions a try.
The next night, he was having trouble sleeping again, and questions seemed to be coming a mile a minute. I told him that when I want to fall asleep, I try to think of absolutely nothing. He got a very distressed look on his face and said, "But I can't turn off my brain from what it's doing!"
Finally I suggested that he could say a prayer and talk to Heavenly Father, and that sometimes helps me fall asleep. He got a big smile and said, "Yeah, he likes to hear from us, because we're all his children, even grown ups!"
I didn't hear from him again that night, so I think maybe he found relief from his racing thoughts and his quest for knowledge.
Disbelief
I run across this all the time. I don't take my kids to the doctor for every little thing. I only take them when I'm very concerned. And because I have lots of training in human biology, I don't get concerned very easily. But doctors almost always try to minimize my concerns. Because, I'm sure, so many moms drag their kids to the doctor for every cut or sniffle, and it really isn't a big deal. I have often come home from the doctor completely dissatisfied with his answer, then taken action on my own. And I'm usually right.
But when our new pediatrician told me to start searching for gifted preschool resources, I never expected to run into the same kind of disbelief. I called school districts. I talked with other mothers. I looked online. Someone even told me, "Every parent thinks their child is special, but when they get to school, they find their kids are right on track with everyone else."
I took that to heart. There are a lot of kids these days that go to preschool, because their parents work. They get preschool in daycare, or even as daycare. So they know their letters and numbers and many even read before kindergarten. Poor kindergarten teachers are forced to deal with children who come with vastly different experiences. I stopped calling around and asking questions. I figured maybe I was making more out of J's comments and questions and seeming intelligence.
This is rather funny, because I think I'd completely forgotten that I was in the gifted program, and that my husband was, too. And that my niece and nephew are. It's not like he's some random mutation, he's highly likely, through genetics, to be gifted.
When we bought a house and started getting settled in, I started worrying about kindergarten again. I made more calls. And I discovered something. As our conversation began, the person on the phone would act like I was just another parent who thought her kid was so great, but was probably normal. But the second I mentioned that their pediatrician had asked me to make the call, they suddenly acted like maybe I wasn't making it all up. It also helped when I said I was in GATE when I was younger.
Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference when I list some of his accomplishments. I have mentioned to a few different people that J started doing multiplication last summer. It evokes no reaction whatsoever. When I say he reads books by himself, there's not much of a reaction, either. I guess I can understand that. Maybe he's reading board books by himself, the kind that have five words on each page. And maybe they're books that I've read to him a million times and he just has it memorized.
I also get the feeling that people think I'm teaching him "tricks." Like I make him practice multiplication flashcards before I'll give him breakfast or something. I bet there are people who do that. Actually, I've babysat for some kids who had similar things done to them.
I guess I'll just have to wait for J to prove himself to his kindergarten teacher. Of course, it won't do much good. They don't have any sort of assistance for gifted kids until 3rd grade.
But when our new pediatrician told me to start searching for gifted preschool resources, I never expected to run into the same kind of disbelief. I called school districts. I talked with other mothers. I looked online. Someone even told me, "Every parent thinks their child is special, but when they get to school, they find their kids are right on track with everyone else."
I took that to heart. There are a lot of kids these days that go to preschool, because their parents work. They get preschool in daycare, or even as daycare. So they know their letters and numbers and many even read before kindergarten. Poor kindergarten teachers are forced to deal with children who come with vastly different experiences. I stopped calling around and asking questions. I figured maybe I was making more out of J's comments and questions and seeming intelligence.
This is rather funny, because I think I'd completely forgotten that I was in the gifted program, and that my husband was, too. And that my niece and nephew are. It's not like he's some random mutation, he's highly likely, through genetics, to be gifted.
When we bought a house and started getting settled in, I started worrying about kindergarten again. I made more calls. And I discovered something. As our conversation began, the person on the phone would act like I was just another parent who thought her kid was so great, but was probably normal. But the second I mentioned that their pediatrician had asked me to make the call, they suddenly acted like maybe I wasn't making it all up. It also helped when I said I was in GATE when I was younger.
Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference when I list some of his accomplishments. I have mentioned to a few different people that J started doing multiplication last summer. It evokes no reaction whatsoever. When I say he reads books by himself, there's not much of a reaction, either. I guess I can understand that. Maybe he's reading board books by himself, the kind that have five words on each page. And maybe they're books that I've read to him a million times and he just has it memorized.
I also get the feeling that people think I'm teaching him "tricks." Like I make him practice multiplication flashcards before I'll give him breakfast or something. I bet there are people who do that. Actually, I've babysat for some kids who had similar things done to them.
I guess I'll just have to wait for J to prove himself to his kindergarten teacher. Of course, it won't do much good. They don't have any sort of assistance for gifted kids until 3rd grade.
My Own Gifted Experience
I think I always knew I was smart, but didn't make a big deal about it. I tend to assume that I'm normal, just like everyone else. Instead of my smarts making me different from others, I just assumed that most other people were smart like me.
I don't know what led to my testing in 3rd grade, but I remember being taken from my regular classroom to a small room with a table in the middle. A lady I'd never seen before had me do a bunch of "games." I remember one quite clearly. I was a horse nut and new everything about horses. One of the "games" was a thin wood puzzle of a horse. I put the horse together and still had a piece left over. I remember it took me a while to figure out that it was the barrel of the horse (chest and back), and that when I put it into the puzzle, it looked totally out of proportion. I commented, "This must be a limousine horse!" Then I think I decided what breed it must be to have such a long back.
Now that I'm a mom to gifted children, I'm very curious about my mother's experience with me. I also don't remember if my siblings were involved in gifted programs. I don't know how long they've been around. I'm sure my brother would have been in one if they were available. He's unbelievably intelligent. He speaks three foreign languages and can read and write Latin and Greek. He says it's easy. He was a "professional student" for years, getting his PhD and Post-doctorate schooling paid for with scholarships. Now he's a professor and runs a lab researching molecular immunology. I respect him immensely.
The funny thing is that he calls me "the brains of the family." When my older sister and I are sitting next to each other, he likes to sing, "They're Pinky and The Brain, Pinky and The Brain, one is a genius, the other's insane." And I don't think my sister has caught on yet. I don't know what I've done to deserve his admiration. I really don't consider myself as all that intelligent, really.
I remember the pull-out program in my elementary school. We went to a different classroom and built stuff out of dry pasta noodles, made paper airplanes, and read riddle books. I thought it was fun, but didn't really understand the point.
We moved to Kentucky a few months into 6th grade. I jumped from an elementary school to a middle school, and I never heard of a "gifted program" again. The middle school put me in regular classes, then moved me to the "accelerated team." I had personal issues (mostly trying to grow up and adjust) during my two years there, and some sickness problems. I remember starting to learn Greek & Latin roots (which I loved!) and pre-algebra. I didn't "get" algebra, but I hated math and was going through those problems. I remember not paying much attention in classes. I also remember being accused of cheating once, because my teacher said she'd never seen me do such sloppy work, so I must have had someone else do it for me. She made me bring in other examples of my potential for sloppiness before she would give me credit for the assignment. Wow, I remember thinking it was really stupid that I had to prove that I could do poorly.
We moved again just two years later, back to CA, where we'd lived up until 5 years earlier. I was then in Jr. High. I was put in the bottom of every class and had to work my way up. In Kentucky, I'd won medals and was 1st chair trumpet. I played solos in concerts, even in combined bands when we played with the 8th grade band. In CA, they put me in last chair. I'd never been last chair, and it sucked. I had no motivation to battle my way through all 10 trumpet players above me. If I was so unappreciated that they just dumped me into last place, why bother? They didn't need me. I was just in regular classes and they were stupid. I don't know if they had any sort of advanced programs.
After eighth grade, I'd impressed enough of my teachers that they recommended I be put in the "college track" in my high school. That meant Introduction to Physical Science instead of regular biology. I don't know what else it meant. I don't know how you could be put in an educational system where they automatically assumed you couldn't get into college, and high school was going to be the peak of your miserable existence.
My 8th grade English teacher had recommended something for me, but I guess it didn't make it to the high school's ears. I was in the stupidest class ever. Here we were in 9th grade, and we were "learning" how to use a dictionary. It was too stupid of a class even for the not-so-bright kids in the class. We just had a really lazy teacher.
The next semester, I was in a different English class. I missed a few days of school, during which the class had begun to read, "Of Mice and Men" out loud in class. The teacher handed me a copy of it and said I should probably start reading from the beginning, but that she expected me to keep track of where the class was reading, and take my turn reading when they got to me. When they got to me, I flipped back a few pages to where the class was. The teacher's eyes got wide. The class had taken days to read up to that point, and I'd already passed them in the 10 minutes I'd had the book. After class that day, she sent me to the counselor to request a class change. They tested my vocabulary (which was way beyond 9th grade) and they switched me into the Honors English class. We began learning Greek & Latin roots, using the same books I'd used in 7th grade in Kentucky.
I was starting to lose respect for the educational system in California. 9th grade Honors classes were using the same curriculum that I'd learned 2 years earlier? 9th graders were learning how to use the dictionary? What kind of garbage was that?
I had a wonderful biology class my sophomore year. It was in-depth, not like the class next door. We could hear through the walls that they were learning how whales communicate. We were studying ecosystems and metabolism. We dissected carrots. And even better, the next year the same teacher offered Anatomy & Physiology, using a college textbook. Oh, I was in heaven! We dissected cow eyeballs, frogs, and even a cat. We memorized the Kreb's Cycle and photosynthesis. I loved that class.
They also moved me to Honors Social Studies, again on the recommendation of my Economics teacher who could tell I was bored with regular classes. But the teacher was openly liberal and had pro-abortion stickers on his desk. Some of us more conservative types complained, but he had an excuse for everything. I couldn't stand him as a person. You could say I transferred out of that class for political and moral reasons. It was horrible to be back in a regular class, where I remember doing a group paper on the holocaust. My partner kept insisting I use the phrase, "dead bodies" over and over again. I pretty much wrote the paper myself so we wouldn't get a C. That class was boring, but at least it didn't conflict with my morals.
We were required to take 2 science classes to graduate. I'd taken IPS and Biology, then voluntarily took Anatomy & Physiology. My senior year, I signed up for Chemistry and Physics. I considered taking Advanced-Placement (AP--for college credit) Chemistry and AP Physics, but I thought that taking both at once would be too much. Physics was a joke of a class. The teacher was brilliant, but not a good teacher. I didn't care too much about the class, but everyone else cared less, so he thought I was amazing. Chemistry was okay. But I wish I'd taken the AP classes.
While I was taking extra science classes, some of my friends had run out of require courses, and just got out of school early. They thought I was crazy for not having more fun my senior year. I actually did leave early most days, because I had Physics and Photography for my last two classes each day. Physics was a joke, and my 4th semester of Photography was graded solely on a portfolio. I didn't have to show up. My mom recognized that I would do well even if I didn't go to class, and that it was probably a waste of my time, so she'd pick me up at lunch and call the office to say I'd gone home every afternoon. I got 115% in my Physics class and an A in Photography.
I also took CPEG, College Preparatory English Grammar, my senior year. We had to write 5-paragraph essays every week. After the first 2 or 3, I could write one in 10 minutes, on any topic, with no research or effort at all. It wasn't really a challenge, but by then, I didn't care about a challenge in most of my classes. I liked getting A's without trying. I liked getting my homework done before class was out.
After I took the PSAT my junior year, college brochures begain pouring into our mailbox. I took the ACT instead of the SAT, because my college of choice (Brigham Young University) preferred the ACT. My CPEG class really helped, because I got a perfect score on the grammar section. Math was my lowest, a 24. My sister got a 24 as her cumulative score and still got into BYU. My cumulative score was 32.
BYU sent me a Christmas card and a tee-shirt, and invited me to a recruiting open-house. I really hadn't expected colleges to actively recruit me! I only got straight A's once. I didn't think I was anything special.
Of course, I got into BYU. They placed me in a new Freshman Academy program. We attended classes with, lived with, and went to church with other students like us. I lovingly refer to it as "Nerd Hall." There were some amazing people there, including most of the Hunter's Scholars (full-ride scholarships). When I went home for Christmas, I remember missing being surrounded by intelligent people. And people who didn't swear :)
I studied biology at BYU. My proudest semester is when I took Human Anatomy, Physiology, and Comparative Anatomy all at once. I got A's in all three. I loved my classes. I hated the general ed. classes, except that they were generally easy. The most memorable one was Early Childhood Development. I tried to read the textbook, but it was boring. My mind would wander, and it all seemed like common-sense stuff to me. I tried so hard to cram for the first test, but finally gave up and just went to take it. I got something like 97%. It was so easy! When I went to class the next time, the students were in an uproar about how hard it was. They said they'd read the book, but hadn't ever heard of half the things on the test. The professor's daughter was subbing that day, and she commiserated. "I know! His tests are so hard. The questions seem to refer to obscure information in the tables and side notes of the book." One question in particular came up. No one could find the answer in the text book. I rememberd the question. I twas about whether children without fathers in the home were a) better adjusted b) more successful or c) had more problems in school. Who needs to find that answer in a book?
I didn't even graduate from college. I got sick, and then I got married. I'm still sick. My body just can't keep up. I don't have any accomplishments to show what's in my brain. I sometimes worry that I have wasted my potential. Of course, I don't think I realized that I was special in any way, so doing normal things was absolutely fine. It wasn't until my kids started blowing me away that I realized that I'm not average.
My sickness does more than suck energy from my body. I have fibromyalgia, which causes a mysterious brain "fog." I say stupid things sometimes because I can't think clearly. I haven't thought clearly in years. It's a difficult disability for me. I feel so stupid sometimes!
Well, that's a very long entry about my life experience as it relates to giftedness. It's helped me see that I'm going to have to be very proactive to keep my children from falling through the cracks. It seems that I fell through the cracks many times, and I didn't think of myself as special, so I didn't know that I should be demanding special treatment.
I'm glad to have it written down. I believe journaling is very important, and one day my kids will probably want to read it to help them sort through their own struggles.
I don't know what led to my testing in 3rd grade, but I remember being taken from my regular classroom to a small room with a table in the middle. A lady I'd never seen before had me do a bunch of "games." I remember one quite clearly. I was a horse nut and new everything about horses. One of the "games" was a thin wood puzzle of a horse. I put the horse together and still had a piece left over. I remember it took me a while to figure out that it was the barrel of the horse (chest and back), and that when I put it into the puzzle, it looked totally out of proportion. I commented, "This must be a limousine horse!" Then I think I decided what breed it must be to have such a long back.
Now that I'm a mom to gifted children, I'm very curious about my mother's experience with me. I also don't remember if my siblings were involved in gifted programs. I don't know how long they've been around. I'm sure my brother would have been in one if they were available. He's unbelievably intelligent. He speaks three foreign languages and can read and write Latin and Greek. He says it's easy. He was a "professional student" for years, getting his PhD and Post-doctorate schooling paid for with scholarships. Now he's a professor and runs a lab researching molecular immunology. I respect him immensely.
The funny thing is that he calls me "the brains of the family." When my older sister and I are sitting next to each other, he likes to sing, "They're Pinky and The Brain, Pinky and The Brain, one is a genius, the other's insane." And I don't think my sister has caught on yet. I don't know what I've done to deserve his admiration. I really don't consider myself as all that intelligent, really.
I remember the pull-out program in my elementary school. We went to a different classroom and built stuff out of dry pasta noodles, made paper airplanes, and read riddle books. I thought it was fun, but didn't really understand the point.
We moved to Kentucky a few months into 6th grade. I jumped from an elementary school to a middle school, and I never heard of a "gifted program" again. The middle school put me in regular classes, then moved me to the "accelerated team." I had personal issues (mostly trying to grow up and adjust) during my two years there, and some sickness problems. I remember starting to learn Greek & Latin roots (which I loved!) and pre-algebra. I didn't "get" algebra, but I hated math and was going through those problems. I remember not paying much attention in classes. I also remember being accused of cheating once, because my teacher said she'd never seen me do such sloppy work, so I must have had someone else do it for me. She made me bring in other examples of my potential for sloppiness before she would give me credit for the assignment. Wow, I remember thinking it was really stupid that I had to prove that I could do poorly.
We moved again just two years later, back to CA, where we'd lived up until 5 years earlier. I was then in Jr. High. I was put in the bottom of every class and had to work my way up. In Kentucky, I'd won medals and was 1st chair trumpet. I played solos in concerts, even in combined bands when we played with the 8th grade band. In CA, they put me in last chair. I'd never been last chair, and it sucked. I had no motivation to battle my way through all 10 trumpet players above me. If I was so unappreciated that they just dumped me into last place, why bother? They didn't need me. I was just in regular classes and they were stupid. I don't know if they had any sort of advanced programs.
After eighth grade, I'd impressed enough of my teachers that they recommended I be put in the "college track" in my high school. That meant Introduction to Physical Science instead of regular biology. I don't know what else it meant. I don't know how you could be put in an educational system where they automatically assumed you couldn't get into college, and high school was going to be the peak of your miserable existence.
My 8th grade English teacher had recommended something for me, but I guess it didn't make it to the high school's ears. I was in the stupidest class ever. Here we were in 9th grade, and we were "learning" how to use a dictionary. It was too stupid of a class even for the not-so-bright kids in the class. We just had a really lazy teacher.
The next semester, I was in a different English class. I missed a few days of school, during which the class had begun to read, "Of Mice and Men" out loud in class. The teacher handed me a copy of it and said I should probably start reading from the beginning, but that she expected me to keep track of where the class was reading, and take my turn reading when they got to me. When they got to me, I flipped back a few pages to where the class was. The teacher's eyes got wide. The class had taken days to read up to that point, and I'd already passed them in the 10 minutes I'd had the book. After class that day, she sent me to the counselor to request a class change. They tested my vocabulary (which was way beyond 9th grade) and they switched me into the Honors English class. We began learning Greek & Latin roots, using the same books I'd used in 7th grade in Kentucky.
I was starting to lose respect for the educational system in California. 9th grade Honors classes were using the same curriculum that I'd learned 2 years earlier? 9th graders were learning how to use the dictionary? What kind of garbage was that?
I had a wonderful biology class my sophomore year. It was in-depth, not like the class next door. We could hear through the walls that they were learning how whales communicate. We were studying ecosystems and metabolism. We dissected carrots. And even better, the next year the same teacher offered Anatomy & Physiology, using a college textbook. Oh, I was in heaven! We dissected cow eyeballs, frogs, and even a cat. We memorized the Kreb's Cycle and photosynthesis. I loved that class.
They also moved me to Honors Social Studies, again on the recommendation of my Economics teacher who could tell I was bored with regular classes. But the teacher was openly liberal and had pro-abortion stickers on his desk. Some of us more conservative types complained, but he had an excuse for everything. I couldn't stand him as a person. You could say I transferred out of that class for political and moral reasons. It was horrible to be back in a regular class, where I remember doing a group paper on the holocaust. My partner kept insisting I use the phrase, "dead bodies" over and over again. I pretty much wrote the paper myself so we wouldn't get a C. That class was boring, but at least it didn't conflict with my morals.
We were required to take 2 science classes to graduate. I'd taken IPS and Biology, then voluntarily took Anatomy & Physiology. My senior year, I signed up for Chemistry and Physics. I considered taking Advanced-Placement (AP--for college credit) Chemistry and AP Physics, but I thought that taking both at once would be too much. Physics was a joke of a class. The teacher was brilliant, but not a good teacher. I didn't care too much about the class, but everyone else cared less, so he thought I was amazing. Chemistry was okay. But I wish I'd taken the AP classes.
While I was taking extra science classes, some of my friends had run out of require courses, and just got out of school early. They thought I was crazy for not having more fun my senior year. I actually did leave early most days, because I had Physics and Photography for my last two classes each day. Physics was a joke, and my 4th semester of Photography was graded solely on a portfolio. I didn't have to show up. My mom recognized that I would do well even if I didn't go to class, and that it was probably a waste of my time, so she'd pick me up at lunch and call the office to say I'd gone home every afternoon. I got 115% in my Physics class and an A in Photography.
I also took CPEG, College Preparatory English Grammar, my senior year. We had to write 5-paragraph essays every week. After the first 2 or 3, I could write one in 10 minutes, on any topic, with no research or effort at all. It wasn't really a challenge, but by then, I didn't care about a challenge in most of my classes. I liked getting A's without trying. I liked getting my homework done before class was out.
After I took the PSAT my junior year, college brochures begain pouring into our mailbox. I took the ACT instead of the SAT, because my college of choice (Brigham Young University) preferred the ACT. My CPEG class really helped, because I got a perfect score on the grammar section. Math was my lowest, a 24. My sister got a 24 as her cumulative score and still got into BYU. My cumulative score was 32.
BYU sent me a Christmas card and a tee-shirt, and invited me to a recruiting open-house. I really hadn't expected colleges to actively recruit me! I only got straight A's once. I didn't think I was anything special.
Of course, I got into BYU. They placed me in a new Freshman Academy program. We attended classes with, lived with, and went to church with other students like us. I lovingly refer to it as "Nerd Hall." There were some amazing people there, including most of the Hunter's Scholars (full-ride scholarships). When I went home for Christmas, I remember missing being surrounded by intelligent people. And people who didn't swear :)
I studied biology at BYU. My proudest semester is when I took Human Anatomy, Physiology, and Comparative Anatomy all at once. I got A's in all three. I loved my classes. I hated the general ed. classes, except that they were generally easy. The most memorable one was Early Childhood Development. I tried to read the textbook, but it was boring. My mind would wander, and it all seemed like common-sense stuff to me. I tried so hard to cram for the first test, but finally gave up and just went to take it. I got something like 97%. It was so easy! When I went to class the next time, the students were in an uproar about how hard it was. They said they'd read the book, but hadn't ever heard of half the things on the test. The professor's daughter was subbing that day, and she commiserated. "I know! His tests are so hard. The questions seem to refer to obscure information in the tables and side notes of the book." One question in particular came up. No one could find the answer in the text book. I rememberd the question. I twas about whether children without fathers in the home were a) better adjusted b) more successful or c) had more problems in school. Who needs to find that answer in a book?
I didn't even graduate from college. I got sick, and then I got married. I'm still sick. My body just can't keep up. I don't have any accomplishments to show what's in my brain. I sometimes worry that I have wasted my potential. Of course, I don't think I realized that I was special in any way, so doing normal things was absolutely fine. It wasn't until my kids started blowing me away that I realized that I'm not average.
My sickness does more than suck energy from my body. I have fibromyalgia, which causes a mysterious brain "fog." I say stupid things sometimes because I can't think clearly. I haven't thought clearly in years. It's a difficult disability for me. I feel so stupid sometimes!
Well, that's a very long entry about my life experience as it relates to giftedness. It's helped me see that I'm going to have to be very proactive to keep my children from falling through the cracks. It seems that I fell through the cracks many times, and I didn't think of myself as special, so I didn't know that I should be demanding special treatment.
I'm glad to have it written down. I believe journaling is very important, and one day my kids will probably want to read it to help them sort through their own struggles.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
What a Comprehensive Library!
We went to the library today for the first time in ages. I'm horrible at remembering to return things, and I hate to commit myself to going on a regular schedule, so I've been avoiding the library. It's horrible, because I know my boys need the stimulation.
So after we picked out a huge stack of easy reads and complex scientific books for J, I decided to look up books for myself. I just registered J for kindergarten, so his education has been foremost in my mind. So after failing to find a single Twilight book in the Boise area, I searched for books on gifted children.
There was one, I kid you not, ONE book in the library on the topic. Pathetic. I'll have to get online to put holds on the others and have them brought to the library near me.
Maybe it's all for the better. If I'd brought home a huge stack of them, I'd just have overwhelmed myself. And this one had links to lots of resources that I haven't seemed to find by googling. I'd begun to think that all parents of gifted kids were on their own, that they'd never united to share in the unique challenges we face.
So after we picked out a huge stack of easy reads and complex scientific books for J, I decided to look up books for myself. I just registered J for kindergarten, so his education has been foremost in my mind. So after failing to find a single Twilight book in the Boise area, I searched for books on gifted children.
There was one, I kid you not, ONE book in the library on the topic. Pathetic. I'll have to get online to put holds on the others and have them brought to the library near me.
Maybe it's all for the better. If I'd brought home a huge stack of them, I'd just have overwhelmed myself. And this one had links to lots of resources that I haven't seemed to find by googling. I'd begun to think that all parents of gifted kids were on their own, that they'd never united to share in the unique challenges we face.
We've Only Just Begun
I'm just embarking on a thrilling, yet daunting journey with my children. Taking the lead is J, who turned 5 two months ago. Not far behind is Z, who will turn 3 in a few weeks.
I'm thoroughly daunted because my little brainiacs blow me away every day. Their minds are like sponges!
I'm just starting on this blog, chronicling my journey as a mother and their journey as (most likely) gifted children, I'll summarize the first brainy years of their lives. These are not all earth-shaking or astounding accomplishments, but it's all part of their stories.
J
I'm thoroughly daunted because my little brainiacs blow me away every day. Their minds are like sponges!
I'm just starting on this blog, chronicling my journey as a mother and their journey as (most likely) gifted children, I'll summarize the first brainy years of their lives. These are not all earth-shaking or astounding accomplishments, but it's all part of their stories.
J
- As an infant, he always looked pensive. One lady in the grocery store commented, "He looks like he's trying to cure world hunger!"
- He sat up at 5 months, pulled up and cruised (within minutes of each other) at 6 months, crawled at 7 months.
- At 9 months, he could walk by just holding the tip of my pinky-finger, but refused to do it on his own until he was 12 months. When he decided he could do it, he suddenly did do it. He hardly ever fell, and his second day of mobility was spent zooming around the house and hauling things around.
- His first baby sign was about a week after I started using them, at 10 months. It was Christmas time, and he signed "tree." It was a huge breakthrough for him, a whole new world opening up. He learned many more signs, made up some of his own, and put two signs together.
- When he was 2 1/2 , he couldn't make me understand the word "spaceship," so he substituted the word "aircraft."
- He always spoke as though he were much older. It's hard to remember his real age sometimes, and to keep my expectations appropriate.
- At age 2, he demonstrated his amazing memory. Easter was approaching, and I explained to him that the Easter Bunny would come and fill plastic eggs with treats and leave them in his basket. He said, "I know. Last year there were trucks in the eggs." I checked our photos of the previous year's Easter (when he was just 15 months old) and there were indeed HotWheels in his Easter eggs.
- He learned all his letters and their sounds very quickly, although I didn't introduce him to them early. He learned the alphabet song from a friend, who mindlessly sang it while playing with Play-doh during church nursery class. Then he learned them by sight, along with the sounds they make, from The Letter Factory video.
- Before he was 3 1/2, he liked to say which letter a word started with, and was putting 2-3 sounds together. He spelled out the word "star" to me verbally. At 3 1/2 he began to read 3- and 4-letter words such as "wet" and "hand."
- At age 4, he taught himself to add and subtract. After I tucked him in bed, he'd often throw in "Hey mom, 4+4 is 8. I love you!"
- At age 4 1/2 he began grouping objects to do math. He stuck his markers end-to-end in four groups of three and asked me how many that made.
- At 5, he multiplies by 0, 1, 2, 10, and 100 easily, in his head. It is obvious that he understands the concept of multiplication. He has begun to ask questions that require division & fractions.
- At 4 1/2, he memorized the water cycle. He talked about "reversible changes" and changes of state.
- Just after his 5th birthday, he finally got the courage to read. He'd been reading signs in the grocery store (i.e. Frozen Foods) but just didn't feel confident. I bought him Dr. Seuss's Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You? He read it to me that night and was hooked.
- Just 2 months after he read his first book, he just read our Little Golden book 101 Dalmations completely on his own, and silently. He easily reads through books he's never seen or heard before.
- He recently built two ramps with Legos. They were the same height, but had a different slope. He decided to roll marbles down them to see which one was faster. He called his ramps "inclined planes."
- Sat up on his own at 3 1/2 months old. Crawled at 7 months. Walked at 12 months. Was also proficient at signing.
- I worried that he would feel like the "dumb brother." Although I knew he would be smart enough, I figured J would be a tough act to follow. He seems to be keeping up just fine.
- At just over 1 year, he took an interest in the letters on our moving boxes. He identified all letters as "B" and "O."
- 19 months, he got the Leap Frog Fridge Phonics toy for Christmas. When he got the letters out, I discovered that he knew half of them (by name or by the sound it makes) already. His speech was a bit behind at that time. He actually learned to speak by saying the letters and the sounds they made.
- Before his 2nd birthday, he knew all the letters & the sounds they make, the basic shapes, and the primary and secondary colors. The only problem was he couldn't pronounce "orange."
- Before he was 2 1/2, he managed to look through a telescope and see Jupiter during a visit to an observatory. He recognized it and was very excited. He said, "I see it! I see Jupiter!"
- At almost 3 years, his favorite shoes have zig-zag stitching. He calls them his "sound-wave shoes."
- His vocabulary is surprising. He uses "creature" "character" "instrument" and "equipment." And just a moment ago, he told his brother (who was yelling in his ear) "your sound-waves are obnoxious."
- His memory is remarkable. Today he went with his dad to pick up our lawn mower from the repair shop. There were hundreds of lawn mowers in the shop yard, but he immediately spotted ours. He hasn't seen our lawn mower in 8 months.
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