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When I was a kid I was talking at age 6 months(my sister and mother heard it and were shocked said I sounded like a munchkin,also I was supposed to not know how to roll over yet but when mom was the only one home and I was supposed to be asleep I would climb out of my crib and hit the floor.I did this several times so my father rigged a chicken wire cage over it.I spent some of my early years caged. In my backyard I had a wired fence area that was made of the same thing as the dog run next door.I was expected to be unmanageable and so I was. In my parents ignorance and stress(my home was abusive) they caged me for their convenience and told themselves it was for my safety. This theme would repeat in my life and it was one way people used to crush my mind and try to desensitize me.
Being a kid in the 70's in an abusive home was really hard for me,I was sensitive hideously creative and anti authoritarian. I never fit in anywhere because given enough time I'd piss somebody off,freak someone out or ask the question about the elephant in the living room.I was too curious,colorful ,creative ,charismatic and I knew too much.
Early on I was diagnosed ADD. I take adderall now.
In second grade I was sent to the school shrink for stabbing another bully kid with a fork in the back,he had been beating me up for 6 months and the teachers did nothing about it I told them they just turned away..So I lost it and stabbed the bully fucker with a fork in front of the entire cafeteria..That made my second grade teacher into a control freak.Rather than chastise her favorite who was also a bully she took her resentments out on me,shoot the messenger blame the victim.
She punished me for every little thing.I sat in a corner for the entire school day day in day out for three months for not bringing in my math book,to class.I didn't bring my book because my drunk father spilled his booze on it and I dried it out on the furnace but it smelled like booze and was warped and even ironing the pages and liberal use of lysol did not fix the stink.In fact it made it worse. I was embarrassed to bring it in and I also knew my father would beat my ass if I told anyone about how messed up our family was,I was in a serious double bind.. which nearly drove me insane.
One day ready to go psycho sitting the corner I got an idea to get out of the double bind. I got a small wicker purse. My father had brought me a rainbow parachute from the proving ground one day. I trimmed it so I could walk in it.Like a big flowing robe. I packed it into the small purse. I brought this to school the next day..After sitting in the corner for ten minutes, I asked to go to the bathroom . In the bathroom I put on the flowing robe. I sat back down in the corner.The teacher was blown away. She asked what I was I told her I was a flying rainbow. Why flying,I said because I don't want to be here anymore I want out. I don't like this world. I don't like it here, I wish I could go fly far away..and not be trapped in a room all day,fade out like a rainbow..
She was flustered and took me around to the other rooms to show off my outfit. The next day I didn't sit in the corner ever again.
The third grade teacher was worse than the second grade on,She let the bullies beat me in class as she sat at her desk as if nothing was happening.
My teacher in 4th grade was a goddess. She found out through a friend I knew since 2nd grade whom I still am buddies with now,that I was suicidal.After he talked to her himself about me,telling her he wanted to be my friend because he was scared I might die,(I had no clue he did this until years later). She took an interest in me.She found out I was bored stiff in class and I remember describing how I felt caged in class all day and wanted to be outside ,I told her I hated people picking on me.. She helped me,First she gave me individualized lesson plans, that were outside,and soon she started teaching class in the wooded picnic areas on sunny days,which made all the kids perform and feel better.She also tolerated no bullying in her class,no snide remarks,no domination,no bullshit at all out of the little conduct disordered monsters..She was blown away at how fast I went through her lessons,reading at above college level can do that,She gave me a gift on the last day of school a book about pond life which I still have..She knew I went to a pond near my house and got water samples looking for Euglenas,Paramecium and microscopic creatures. She knew I loved this stuff. What she wrote in the front page was so sweet it still makes me want to cry,I can barely read it.
Kids that are different who seem like a pain in the ass might just be tormented by the stuff other people think is normal or ok,Stuff that for most people in any social setting is invisible like air..Hyperactive kids might be very sensitive and dealing with traumas,in class or at home. For me school and home was indeed a prison of abuse and I do not enjoy class room settings or people much.I am very very wary. I read people characters fast if they smell wrong I stay the hell away. I prefer learning on my own because I don't like being fenced in my thoughts.I do not believe most people can't understand giftedness because they are not gifted themselves. It seems it's like someone who's blind from birth and unable to describe what purple is,but making green lines and insisting it must be purple and if anyone says otherwise they just cannot fathom they might not see it's green..
I don't think the parents of gifted kids intentionally mean harm,when they do stuff that hurts gifted kids,but they gotta realize the kid if they are in pain,feel pain.(unless they are abusive and that's a whole other ball of wax)but ignorance itself can harm a gifted kid. Ignorance that gets coupled with shame and inferiority drives some people who feel incompetent to compare themselves to gifted kids to blow off sensitized people,make excuses to not understand the other and rationalize how it's ok and how the world demands we all have stunted empathy to "make it" in the world.
I used to tell myself that was not true,but time and again I learned that it is true.So I am jaded and I don't trust anyone until they prove they can be trusted. I really carry alot of wounds..
I love the net,the net is a library that comes to me.I wish so bad there was one when I was younger. Also when a sensitive gifted kid is treated badly the scars run deep,the person hurting them may be simply oblivious their ribbing causes torment.Because they are not sensitized to it they don't feel it. And it is the way of this world the world demands you be callous tough skinned and compete,sell your soul to a dominator or die.if you are sensitized you must grow a thick skin or go insane. I went insane..
For a gifted kid it's a very thin line between abuse and pushing,abuse and jokes,abuse and encouraging.A sensitized kid has to feel safe and validated,to say what hurts and the caretaker has to trust the kid knows his own emotional limits.
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