The child, who is somewhat shy and has a difficult time adjusting to new environments, has begun acting out and her parents can’t understand why. After all, they’re only doing what’s best for her, giving her all the advantages possible, a chance to challenge that amazing brain God gave her and rise above the level of a normal second-grader.
The little girl, however, just wants to be with her friends in the comforting environment of her familiar old classroom where she feels safe and accepted.
My heart went out to the child.
When I was growing up, they didn’t use the label “gifted.” We were simply known as “the smart kids” and, as such, we were segregated from the rest of the class, permitted to work ahead and led to believe we were somehow special.
It struck me as strange then as it does now. It went against my religious upbringing. Weren’t we all “special” or “gifted?” Why would we label some children that way and not others? 
Personally, I think the label “gifted” is extremely subjective, based on parental biases, elitist IQ tests and a list of characteristics that would have disqualified Albert Einstein.
Fortunately, my parents treated me no differently than my two siblings although they did make a few concessions to my rather quirky needs.
When my mother would bowl with her bowling league, she’d drop my brother off in the nursery and then seat me at the counter overlooking the lanes and place a pencil and pad of paper in front of me. At age 5, I would spend the next hour happily composing poetry. Sometimes she’d bring along some old Christmas cards featuring bucolic winter scenes and I’d duplicate the scenes freehand.
There were no schools for gifted children back then. When I’d read every book we owned, including the Bible and the entire set of Happy Hollister books she ordered for me by mail, and then memorized the Preamble to the Constitution and the Gettsysburg Address, she bought me a set of old Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias (they were cheap because the I-J edition was missing) at a yard sale that kept me entertained for a good six months or so.
Fortunately, just when I’d gotten through the encyclopedias, the library system in our community launched a bookmobile, a mini library inside a motor home that would travel to the various neighborhoods. I was always first in line when the bookmobile stopped on our block and the last to leave because I’d have to peruse every book before finally making my selections and checking out the maximum number permitted.
Had there been schools for the so-called gifted student back then, I might have thrived, but to what end?
By the time I was 12 years old, I’d already made up my mind that I wanted to be a journalist and, when I graduated from the University of Missouri-Columbia and began working in the field, I chose community journalism because it gave me the freedom to write features, hard news and editorials as well as keep my hand in photojournalism (one of my other majors in college), newspaper design and copyediting.
I’m doing exactly what I wanted to do. And I never had to attend a school for gifted children to do it. 
Although we as parents should certainly support and encourage our children’s interests, I believe a child’s God-given gifts will naturally lead him.
Take Einstein, for instance. When Einstein was 5, his father showed him a pocket compass and Einstein was fascinated by the concept of how empty space acted upon the needle. He began building models and mechanical devices for fun. He basically educated himself, reading as much about science as he could.
Thomas Edison’s teacher called his “addled” because his mind often wandered. So his mother, who had been a teacher, began home-schooling him, encouraging him to read and experiment on his own.
Frankly, I’ve known adults who were identified as “gifted” as children who never realized their potential. Maybe someone put too much pressure on them to achieve and, by the time they reached adulthood, they’d lost their enthusiasm.
My husband will tell you he was considered an average student in elementary school. Nevertheless, he went on to medical school and has a doctorate in psychology.
In wanting what’s best for our children, I’m afraid parents sometimes make the mistake of forcing them into situations that aren’t always in their best interests.
Someone once told me, when faced with those difficult parenting questions, to ask myself if my decision is going to make my child a happier, well-rounded adult or simply turn him into a neurotic teenager.
I think that’s what parents need to consider when it comes to gifted programs. What’s the ultimate goal here? If the child is truly seeking a more challenging environment, then fine. However, if it’s the parent who is seeking the more challenging environment for the child in the hopes of producing the next Einstein, then think again.
With all the emphasis on FCAT scores and Bright Futures scholarships, we actually may be stifling some future Einsteins who just want to spend some time marveling at how empty space acts upon the needle of a compass.

D’Ann White is editor of The Brandon News.