First, let me say that I teach 4 brilliant and unique young women. Now, let me explain that as much as I see that as one of my greatest privileges, it is also one of my greatest challenges. Not all of these girls have been officially tested for their IQs or have even undergone any standardized test. However, those that have, have scored VERY high, and those who have not been tested run at the same pace as those who have been. In many ways, this is a blessing. In fact, our culture tends to have a pretty rocky relationship with gifted individuals, at times admiring them, at times mocking them, at times resenting them, at times ignoring them all together, largely because I think people see those with high IQs as having it easier than others in life. Although a high IQ can speed up the learning process (but not always), there are so many challenges involved for these individuals that are usually overlooked.
At times, I feel like this household could be a case study for the pros and cons of giftedness. Our first week back to school this last week was a prime example of some of the cons, which can also be the pros. It's complicated.
One Pro & Con: Gifted kids NEED to know.
When I worked in an early childhood school, there was a boy in one of the classrooms who was clearly very intelligent. At 5 years old, he could answer why the sky was blue and why a compass needle always pointed north (2 questions I asked him because I thought he'd have learned the answers at home and because the poor kid was in a classroom that was teaching other kids how to count to 5 or even how to follow a single step command like "sit"). I have clear memories of this kid irritating the teacher to the point of exasperation because he HAD to know. He had to know why the class was lining up in a certain order for recess. He had to know why the class schedule was different that day. He had to know why the teacher was teaching something different than the way he'd teach it. It seemed to me, as an onlooker, that the teacher felt the boy was being disrespectful when he'd question her on many things in the classroom. I could tell that wasn't his intention though. He just yearned to know. My job in that classroom was largely to focus on the kids with speech and language disabilities in the classroom, but I made it a point to engage this boy when I could. I saw his need, and I saw how he was chastised for it. (By the way, I also sat in on his parent teacher conference, and I don't think the teacher ever gave any hint to the parents about her exasperation. They had no way to know how she responded to his questions.)
Now, I teach 4 young people who need to know. They need to know why we're studying out of a different book than we studied out of last year. They need to know why we have new activities. They need to know why our schedule is different than it was last year. They need to know why we do everything we do. Why is lunch ALWAYS the same thing!? Why are we doing something different for lunch today? Why do I need to hold my pencil this way? Why aren't we doing history today? Why are we doing history today when we didn't do it last week on this day? Didn't we study zoology last year? Why are we studying botany this year? What is the point of the science experiments this year? Do we get to do one today? The next day? The next? Why that day?

In general, I try to head them off at the pass. I'm pretty good at anticipating what might be questioned, and I tend to explain why we do what we do anyways. Unfortunately, this makes the first week of a new school year amazingly long. Each school day last week was nearly double our normal amount of time because EVERYTHING had to be explained. If I glossed over something, they caught it and asked about it. I try my best to be patient and to recognize this for what it is, curiosity and a yearning to understand, not disrespect. However, I'm going to be honest, last week was exhausting. I couldn't remember the last time teaching had made me feel that tired, and I'm betting the kids had a similar feeling. I ask a lot from these kids, in terms of attention particularly, and longer days were stretching them too. My youngest fell asleep in our van 2-3 times last week as we'd drive around town. She very, very rarely falls asleep in the van.
I was desperately wondering how much I needed to try to cut out of my lesson plans. What was making the school day so exhausting? My expectations? Their behavior? Just working out kinks the first week? I was left praying for things like "patient endurance" and "wisdom" because I knew I didn't have the patience or the endurance to keep going or the wisdom to be sure what to persevere through and what to change. Fortunately, I decided to collect some more data points by continuing largely as planned this week to see how that would go, and today was back to a more normal length for us. I didn't have to spend so much time explaining and getting buy-in for every subject and activity!
I labelled this need to know as a pro and a con up above. It's obviously a "pro" educationally in that these kids are self-motivated to learn and to learn pretty much everything. However, the teacher has to be willing and able to explain everything or to point the kid in the direction of self-learning on the topic without losing her cool. This can quickly become a "con" in a classroom setting. I know that at least 2 of the 4 kids I'm teaching have experienced problems in a classroom setting merely for being curious or ahead of her classmates. Fortunately for my children, I remember being this kid. I remember needing to know what happened in the rest of the history book we didn't finish during the school year (and thus reading it over summer vacation). I remember asking teachers questions or pointing out inconsistencies and getting backlash for it because it was seen as impertinent. I remember struggling to understand when it was okay to talk about something or to ask a question and when it wasn't okay. I even remember, my parents coming back from a parent-teacher conference and talking to me about how the teacher was concerned about what to do with me. I was learning the material more quickly, remembering the details more readily, and pointing out spelling mistakes the teacher was making. This was in Spanish 1, and the teacher was a fluent Spanish speaker. I had never taken Spanish before. What was she going to do with a kid like that in a classroom setting? I learned to keep my mouth shut more. Really, that was one of the biggest things I learned in K-12. I needed to stop asking questions. I needed to stop talking about certain things or risk the consequences. I needed to stop asking about inconsistencies in what I was being taught. I needed to hide my grades from other kids. I learned all this despite the fact that, overall, I had incredibly concerned and sympathetic teachers. Eventually, I fear, I'm going to have to teach my kids that this is the reality of the outside world they will eventually enter. Before they go on to college, I will need to make sure they can navigate settings with less sympathetic teachers and more resentful classmates. However, that day is not today. For now, we can all grow together in how to ask questions and to seek to learn, to clarify, or to share knowledge while still being respectful of each other as humans and respectful of the authority of the teacher. My authority isn't challenged by their curiosity.
The Scripture that popped into my head last week as I was barely holding on to my patience was Galatians 6:9. "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." I'm going to be honest, in my exhaustion, I didn't really want to be urged to not become weary. In retrospect, when this verse came to me after I'd been praying and pondering about whether to change things or whether to persevere through the exhaustion as is, I probably could have taken this Biblical conviction as a gentle prodding to persevere rather than as a tough mandate to try to live up to. (I couldn't even remember the last half of the verse...just the first...I was that exhausted and probably under spiritual attack.) As I look at this entire section of Scripture, I see many applicable words for my situation.
"Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks they are something when they are not, they deceive themselves...the one who receives instruction in the word should share all good things with their instructor...Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers."
I desire to discipline these children gently, to not succumb to temptation myself in moments when everything feels hay-wire here, to help carry the burdens of these children, to walk in humility, to have relationships with these children that allow us to share what we have each learned with each other, to not become weary in doing what is right, to take the opportunities before me to do good to these young people, and to respect that they already belong as full sisters in the family of believers.
In reading all that over again, I see that as a really tall order, a very high ambition. Fortunately, that chapter of Galatians ends with the following encouraging farewell, which I will take hold of and with which I will also end this post: "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers and sisters. Amen."