I am Not Gifted

In my African American Autobiography class, we're reading Michelle Obama's book Becoming. The book takes you through her childhood and her marriage to President Barack Obama. Michelle Obama is a very smart and well educated woman, an alumni of both Princeton and Harvard. Yet, she is unhappy with the path she took to become a lawyer. She confesses she didn't even like being a lawyer and decided to try and find a completely new career.

We were discussing this passage in our class when our professor simply asked "Why?". I looked around the room as a hand shot into the air. One of the talkers in the class who sits in the front row told a story about how being a gifted child often leads you to follow through on things you might not really want to do to keep up appearances. She then explained that she knew all this, because she, herself, was a gifted child.

Another hand shot in the air. Another one of the talkers. She agreed, then simply stated "Yeah, I'm a gifted child as well. Every one when I was four said I was going to be a doctor."

I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help it. I get it, being naturally smart is really hard. Expectations are super high and they're all nearly impossible to live up to. Yet, I find it difficult to feel bad for people who are naturally smart or "gifted", because my whole life has been spent trying to catch up.

When the girl in my class was four and already showing doctor potential, I was running into walls and falling out of my chair at dinner. Maybe because I'm just super uncoordinated or because I never learned how to sit still, but certainly no one thought I was going to be a doctor. I think more than anything, people in my family thought I was going to be an entertainer. I was super expressive and quirky. My mom, on more than one occasion, has told me my facial expressions remind her of Jim Carrey (not necessarily the best person to be compared to, but I guess I'll take it).

Taylor, my older sister, was always much better at school than I was. She was a fast reader and a great learner. She's the one every one thought would be a doctor. She was good at everything: reading, science, and math. The only thing I could do better than her was spelling, but that's because they introduced "Hooked on Phonics" to our 2nd grade curriculum when she was in the 3rd grade. If either of us is gifted it's Taylor, and I am constantly reminded of that.

I compare myself to Taylor quite a bit, especially when it comes to our intelligence. When Taylor graduated from high school, she had all sorts of cords and medals around her neck for her academic prowess. I had a gold cord because I maintained above a 3.0 GPA throughout most of high school. I've always known Taylor was smarter than me, but I hated to admit it until recently. Now when I do something dumb and my dad questions me about it I say "I don't know, I'm not Taylor!". This has only worked out for me a handful of times, but I think it's a pretty decent excuse. My freshman year of college my dad entrusted me to fill out my FASFA. I filled it out wrong, and received no financial aid for my first semester. When I complained to my dad he said "That's what I did with your sister and it was fine". My reply was simple: "I'm not Taylor!".

Freshman Year Orientation. Smiling, because I hadn't realized yet that I messed up my FASFA.

My problem is, and has always been, that my mouth and body act faster than my brain. I speak without thinking or run into walls before my mind can register that it's there. There are a few gifts and curses when your body is faster than your brain. For one thing: you know everything that comes out of my mouth is super genuine, because I can't take the time to process a good lie. I've tried. Anyone can tell you that I'm a terrible liar. I stutter and sweat. I won't look you in the eyes in case you can see that I'm lying. I would, honestly, be so terrible at poker. A curse is that I'm not considered "gifted" or even really smart, and I have a lot of bruises because I walk into furniture. All of these things I've spent years trying to cope with.

When I was home schooled, trying to do my math homework was.... well, it was basically the most chaotic thing I think I've ever experienced. My Nanny would sit next to me repeating the motto she had come up for me when I did my math homework: "I love math". That was a lie. I hated math, but I said it with her anyway. Sometimes, when I was really struggling, Nanny would wait for Poppy to get home so he could help me. He was not any better at math or at encouraging me to finish my homework.

When the time came for me to go back to public schooling, I was put in regular math instead of Pre-Algebra. This was a class my friends in Pre-Algebra lovingly called "the stupid kid math class". As if my middle school self esteem wasn't low enough.

Things after that never got better. English classes were the only thing that made me feel smart, and even in that class my teacher called me dumb because I didn't know how to read an analog clock (I have since learned to read one though, so I have that going for me).

In high school, I tried SO hard, but I still got C's and D's in math. I remember a specific Parent/Teacher conference where my dad and I sat down with my math teacher who explained to my dad, "She pays attention in class and she does all her homework, so I don't know why she's doing so poorly in the class". My dad and I both knew it had nothing to do with the teaching and had everything to do with my inability to mentally process numbers.

Throughout high school, I just did my best and hoped for good grades. Usually, the work I put in was enough and I passed all my classes with good grades. I'm not a bad student, I'm just bad at being smart.

In college, I've had to work much harder. It wasn't until college that I noticed (and other people noticed) that I read really slow. Sometimes I have to read a sentence two or three times before I really understand what it's saying, and a lot of times I just get lost on the page and end up having to start over. I spent a lot more time studying and still ended up getting bad grades in some of my classes.

When I changed my major to English/Creative Writing, I realized that my reading comprehension was also terrible. My teachers were starting to give out reading comprehension quizzes, and even on days I did the reading I was still failing the quizzes. So I started reading the chapters and the Sparknotes as well, then my quiz grades started improving.

Through it all, I feel like I've been successful. I have been on the Dean's List a number of times, I've read some good books, I've worked hard, and I'm graduating a semester early in three weeks. I may not be the best at math still, or even super great at reading, but I've always had a way with words. Writing is something that makes me feel like I'm smart and is something I'm confident in. I also feel like I've learned a lot of really cool and important things in college, so if anyone ever asks me my opinion on sexuality or genocide I can carry on an intelligent conversation. Most importantly, I have tricked my very smart boyfriend into thinking I'm intelligent, which is enough.

I don't need to be "gifted" to know that I'm smart. Maybe people don't expect a lot from me, and that's okay, because I expect a lot from me. I'll never be a doctor or the "smart one" in my family, but I know my place and I know who I am and who I want to be (plus I'm the funny one and that's way more fun than being the smart one). Whatever happens next, I'm going to kick ass at it. I may not be Michelle Obama or the "gifted" girls in my class, but I don't want to be them. I'm smart enough to know the person I am now is the person I'm meant to be.