I have thought about this for a long time. I have been categorised as gifted a long time; twenty eight years, in fact. While I have some things to say, from personal experience, I don't think there's anything new in what I have in mind. Somebody out there, having thought longer than me, having been gifted longer, has probably already said it in his or her own way. But what I think continues to drive some interest in the ongoing debate, the words and words thrown at this problem, is that there is nothing said that has been truly satisfying, no wonderful and intuitive description or erudite utterance, no perspective that has finally illuminated the thing being discussed, or captured its essence. The Government may describe its policies, the academics the themes and effects, the teachers and students their own recollections, the outsiders their efforts to get in, the critics the wonkiness or sordidness, and so on, but finally, who has said anything the least bit clever about it? Plainly, none.
It is very simple. Adults simply do not know, or recall, what it is to be a gifted child, and have not the slightest clue how to talk or think like a gifted child. Therefore whatever they can think of saying is terribly adult-sounding, and meaningless. Yes, there are measures: mathematics and english. One can add measures: physical, emotional, social giftedness, these things can be asked of and obtained. But these are the facets, and not the core, of giftedness. The truth is this: every child has its (I wish to avoid repeating "his or her") own version of genius; the way it understands and treats the world. What adults wish to determine is, which child sees the world faster or more cleverly, and treats it especially fast or cleverly, that is, in objective terms. But that does not cut to the centre. The centre is a strange, nebulous mass of fascinating and bizarre ideas, utterly indescribable. You could ask a child what it thinks in those terms; you would not get the faintest cross between Alice in Wonderland and Gulliver's Travels. You could only listen in puzzled merriment; your brain could not possibly comprehend the already abbreviated phrases uttered by it. Not one part in a thousand of that wonderful flowing stream could be put into words, and still you would be lost.
So perhaps it is better to recognise that education has a limited say in anything. OK, we know these boys and girls are a bit more clever, a bit harder to teach in the usual way, so what can we do with them in special classes? I think in those limited terms, with reasonably limited objectives, one might more easily perceive results. Better grades, livelier discussions, greater fraternity of the bizzare, and so on. Then you could ask, is it worth the trouble and expense, do the gifted children provide a richer dividend to society, and so on. Maybe yes, maybe no: and then, of course, why this policy or that, which the Government, somewhat haltingly, explains after its own fashion. These are the debated topics.
Why should kids be treated as gifted, coddled, and given all those advantages? It is an important question, difficult to answer without talking about themes of social equality and so on. Here's an answer: all kids should be treated as gifted. But education in its popular form cannot really do it. Therefore let the smaller part be saved. That is the implicit answer.
In the end, I think of it as the classroom being a playground. I don't even think there is an inherent difference in the two. If you go to a playground and it's beautiful and inviting and good fun, why, you'd love to play and to experiment and imagine. But as it slowly becomes smaller, more staid, more routine, less colourful, more crowded, and the fun rides are removed, slowly you just end up making the gloomy rounds on the same boring apparatus. That's school; it cramps the hell out of you as it turns you into an adult. So put the question another way, for how long should children be put in the more fun playground, and what good is it to do so? To me, as long as possible. Provided nobody has problems developing into adults, as long as possible. That is the paradox, but let them play.
