Talented and Gifted

I don’t know how my son Solomon learned to play piano as well as he does.

And of course parents often say things like I just wrote above. I’m listening to him play the theme from Lord of the Rings upstairs as I type. He taught himself how to read music. Solomon pours over scores. He disciplines himself in ways I struggle to discipline myself. Yes, we have him in piano lessons, but his capacity to learn is remarkable.

The picture above is from the yearly talent show at Horace Mann elementary school in Iowa City. Katie and I sat through nearly two hours of performances. Some performances were better than others but, of course, that isn’t the point of performance. Not as I understand it, anyway, and I’ve spent over 20 years learning how to facilitate and teach performance.

Solomon walked up to the piano in the middle of the show. He didn’t tell a knock-knock joke, dance to a Taylor Swift song, or do a magic trick. Instead, he bust into a seven-minute rendition of La Campanella. Perhaps the song was lost on his audience, but I was mesmerized.

***

“I’m sick of not being challenged in Math!” Solomon howled at me a few months ago.

We were discussing his math options in middle school. It didn’t make sense to me for him to take a high school math class when he was in sixth grade. Sure, the content would be more challenging. But it wouldn’t really open up any other pathways than the advanced option his teacher suggested we sign him up for.

“I hate school! It is boring! I am never challenged,” I let him unload on me. He was so frustrated.

I remember being frustrated in school. Particularly, after we moved. First, I left Horace Mann Elementary in Highland Park to attend Shirley Hills Middle School near Lake Minnetonka. Next, I was at Chippewa Middle School Arden Hills. I found myself in a regular 6th grade math class. I was bored out of my mind. And I spent most of middle school being bored out of my mind. My grades dropped, my interest in school become mostly social (or anti-social), and I coasted. This lasted until 11th grade when I discovered I wanted to follow my high-school girlfriend to college. I put my shoulder to the wheel and graduated with a 2.1 GPA. Talk about talented and gifted.

I don’t know if I was talented or gifted as a child. My career as a teacher taught me that most human beings are talented and gifted. My work also taught me that labels in schools often disguise tracking that is more about identity than ability. But don’t say what I just wrote too loudly in the United States right now. You might have your funding revoked like Harvard or be deported like so many of the international students I know. This moment is so stupid. Idiocracy unleashed.

I don’t know if Solomon is talented or gifted. He certainly has talents and gifts. I’m sure I do too. I went on to become a teacher and finish my PhD. I don’t know what Solomon will go on to do. He might be a musician, a mathematician, or something entirely else. I do know that I empathize with my son. I wish I were challenged when I was a kid. I’m glad Solomon challenges himself with seven-minute piano songs and Math workbooks. I wonder what all of that challenging will lead to?

***

Solomon is Solomon. He isn’t his father or mother. And he isn’t his peers. I’ve spent most of my time as his dad being surprised by the things he says and does. By the way he is. If I know anything about parenting – and I don’t – it is that our children rarely become what we imagine they will become. Or even what we want them to become. But they become all the same. And Solomon, as he approaches middle school, is becoming what Solomon is becoming.

It is important for me to remind myself how beautiful Solomon’s becoming is. Regardless of the labels anybody (or any institution) might put on my child, he is moving the way that he moves and I am honored to watch him move. To offer what I can to help that movement, even though I suspect that his willful adolescence will start to shut me out as middle school approaches. Here is some documentation of all that becoming. This is a picture of Solomon accepting a leadership award at the Englert in Iowa City a few weeks ago:

Solomon’s becoming makes me think that it is also important for me to remind myself how beautiful my own becoming is. Regardless of the labels anybody (or any institution) might put on me, I am moving the way that I move. And I’m open to where all that movement might take me. Radically so. And I’m glad that I’m at that place now. This place. Moving, becoming, and giving up my talents and gifts with the faith that there are good things ahead.