To Tell, or Not To Tell?

That is the question!

I used to think it was obvious, but now I'm wavering.

I didn't know I was gifted when I was growing up. I remember getting tested, I think in 5th grade, and I remember going to G.A.T.E. stuff, but I never really knew what that meant.

I was genuinely surprised when I went to a "regular" English class in 9th grade and they were looking things up in a dictionary.

I was genuinely surprised when I got straight A's the one and only time (Math always kicked my butt--or so I thought. I was still ahead of most students, but I got B's in my higher classes.)

I was flattered when I was inundated with college pamphlets and even scholarship offers. I was flabbergasted when my one and only BYU (there was never any question of where I would go) send me a Christmas card, a tee-shirt, and an invitation to be in a special Freshman program.

I really had no idea.

And I didn't realize that I had no idea about any of this until my son was a few years old and flabbergasting us daily. And then he started telling everyone how smart he is.

Of course, I wanted to teach him that even the smartest cookies in the jar shouldn't go bragging about it all the time. I mentioned this to my mother, and she said, "Stop telling him he's smart."

That moment was an awakening for me. I realized that she'd done that very same thing to me. She'd kept my smarts a secret from me. And I had just assumed I was average, regular. I don't know how I like that approach.

I can see how it could be beneficial. I appreciate the fact that I'm not cocky, nor was I an outcast because I thought myself intellectually superior to my peers (saying phrases like that is sure to make you an outcast!) On the other hand, feeling average, I did average things. I could have done so much more! I should have done so much more. "Where much is given, much is required," and I feel like more should have been required of me. I feel like more was required of me, but I was ignorant of exactly how much I had been given.

So I'm in a quandry about how to approach this with my own smarty-pants children. I tried not telling J that he's smart, but, well, it's so obvious that everyone comments on it. And while I just traipsed through life in my own little world, not comparing myself to anyone else, J already knows he's quite different. How could he not notice, when he's reading 6th grade books while his "very bright" classmates are learning to read? He feels different, like so many gifted children do. Apparently, I did not. At least not much.

So I have talked frankly with J about his giftedness. Not long after the conversation with my mom, we started telling him that being smart just means that God gave him an extra good brain, and it doesn't mean he's better than anyone else. It just means that it's easier for him to learn things, so that means he needs to learn even more than everyone else. I hope that properly instills in him some humility and sense of duty to use his gifts.

I hope I'm doing this the right way!