I really need to stop getting sucked into Twitter threads lol fuck.
Last night’s thread was about gifted programs–folks who think you’re a whiny fuck if you complain about being a “gifted” child, and a bunch of other people arguing that (A) you’re allowed to be affected by what you’re affected by and (B) gifted programs were largely very bad.
Liiiiike, I knew “gifted” programs were more or less a way for schools to get more tax dollars. Having more “gifted” and “special education” students means the school is allotted more funding, so kids were being jammed into these classes based on bullshit metrics just to fill their quotas.
I would absolutely argue it was probably more damaging to be arbitrarily placed in a special education class than a gifted one, but both seem fuckin’ ridiculous and WHY DO WE FINANCIALLY INCENTIVIZE CATEGORIZING CHILDREN AS OUTLIERS THIS AT ALL, THAT IT ACTUAL FUCKING MADNESS.
MY intiution tells me–and thus I need to be very careful to do research before I start leaning on this concept–that there were probably a lot of kids being shoved into “gifted” programs and “special education” programs for the same fucking reasons; behavioral issues, attention issues, inconsistent grades. For “special education” this was probably seen as a sign of a learning disability or other atypical brain stuff that meant you couldn’t handle a standard classroom environment. And with “gifted” kids, it was that you were BORED WITH THE WORK because you were TOO SMART FOR IT and when kids get bored of COURSE they act up! That’s why they need to be CHALLENGED. By making A LOT OF DIORAMAS AND SHIT. By using A WHOLE BUNCH OF PAPIER MACHE and MAKING UP THEIR OWN DEFINITIONS OF WORDS THAT SHAKESPEARE INVENTED. That’s how you stimulate their brains!!!!
I wonder how mnay folks with ASD and ADHD got shoved into both categories using nearly identical reasoning, and how much of that was affected by how many kids they needed to fill the classes to keep their funding.
Anyway, I wasn’t the only “gifted” kid who wound up doing a fuckton of papier mache projects instead of real learning, lol.
Someone pointed out this was likely due to scarcity of resources, which I guess I hadn’t really thought of? When you’re “”“”“”“”“”gifted”“”“”“”“”” you’re sold the idea that you’re super special and great and you get weird, nebulous assignments because you can think in more abstract ways than the normies, so you should be able to learn about animals by making them out of strips of paper and flour water. Unlike those BORING NORM-OS who have to READ about a subject to absorb the information.
I mean, we did ALSO have to read about shit. Lol. It wasn’t all art projects. But it makes sense to me that the school was absorbing this funding so they could continue to educate, yanno, the majority of the population, so they weren’t necessarily funneling all of those resources into the gifted/special ed classes. They were likely spreading them around everywhere.
I was in public school until halfway through 4th grade. The first and second grade “gifted” classed were combined into one, so my 1st (and 2nd) grade teacher was essentially having to produce, teach, and grade the work for two very different education levels. There were probably… 30 to 35 kids in that class? Half 1st grade, half 2nd? Can you fucking imagine?!
So, yeah. The school has an overwhelmed teacher with too many students in tow different grade levels, AND a desperate need for that “special kidz” funding elsewhere in the school, and you have… “Just give them another art project lol, that’ll take up some time. Oh, because, uhhhh.... Because SMART KIDS ARE V ARTISTIC I THINK?????”
Anyway, I’m thinking about this instead of the thing where LP has been weirdly specific about which days he wants to go to the grocery store, like he has, yanno, plans or something, and also takes well over an hour longer than makes… any kind of sense, even with lines and restrictions on number of people in the store, and I’ve assumed this has something to do with running other errands or having to make multiple stops but I ask that and he says no. He’s grocery shopping today and I can almost guarantee he’s gonna suddenly show as online on FB messenger even though he hardly ever uses it on his phone, and stay on for a long time, and come home after 3 hours and tell me the lines were super long even though I highly doubt they were because they never have been for me.
And it’s aaaaaaaaaaallllllll fine, y’all. IT’S ALL FINE.
I’M GIFTED. I CAN HANDLE IT LOL.
… I don’t think I can handle it, yo. I think I’m probably gonna bust my nut, even if it means the next few weeks of quarantine being Actual Hell. I’ve held off for, what, a month? But my mood is rapidly spiraling and I don’t think I can handle it much longer.
The fruited tree
with her orange cheeks
ballooned, puffed gills, in treacly
wind, or, if you like,
the spill of the tanked gold sun.
Do you still love me? Now what
kind of a question is that.
And yet it can’t be taken back.
The bachelor-lady’s house wants
filling, the drip line’s laid below
our promising new life.
Dana Goodyear (2013)