The Boy Who Played with Fusion

by Tom Clynes

  Some commenters contend that Taylor’s accomplishments wouldn’t have been possible if his parents weren’t relatively well-off. This argument doesn’t hold up. Although most of us are constrained to some extent by financial resources, more money does not buy good parenting; usually it buys proxy parenting: nannies and babysitters, material goods, and elite schools and programs. Far more effective than money are parents who put time and effort into their children and their children’s interests.

  When it comes to parenting, the best things really are free. Kenneth and Tiffany built a base of support that was both intellectual and emotional. They developed customized, hands-on opportunities that meaningfully expanded their children’s—and often their own—range of experience, and they reached out to their communities to extend their influence. Most parents instinctively try to keep their children away from things that can kill them, but Tiffany and Kenneth found creative and safe ways to enable and support Taylor’s potentially hazardous passions. In the Wilson household, there was a culture of “intellectual spoiling” that allowed Taylor and Joey to pursue their interests as far as they cared to take them.

  Child psychologists and educators point out the difference between this sort of ultra-supportive parenting and helicopter parenting, in which competitive, overcontrolling parents steer their children toward the parents’ choices. It’s far better to provide the children with the fuel they need—supplies, mentors, encouragement—and then let them pilot their own helicopters. In other words, let the child lead.

  Eventually, school will be an issue. In recent years, it has become fashionable to delay children’s—especially boys’—entrance to kindergarten, even if they are already reading and intellectually ready for school. It’s well intended, but research has shown that in the long term, it does a bright child no favors.

  Gifted children in the early grades usually do fairly well, especially if they have skilled teachers who are willing to explore learning opportunities beyond standard curricula. But our schools’ ability to cultivate diverse talents starts to fall apart in the middle grades—as do many of the kids. It’s easy for a creative, talented kid to get lost when attention shifts to disruptive students or to those who need additional help to keep pace with the others. If your child spends much of the school day waiting for the rest of the class to catch up, it’s time to intervene.

  Not every family can pull up stakes and move across the country so a child can attend a school that perfectly matches his or her interests and learning style. For gifted children to get needed resources in their own communities, parents usually have to become resourceful and assertive advocates.

  Your school system may be able to arrange grade-skipping and other acceleration, dual enrollment at a higher-level school, a transfer to a magnet school, mentoring, or other options. Often a school administrator’s first response to an inquiry is “We can’t do that.” In some cases, that may be true; in far more cases, what he or she means is “We’ve never done that before” or “We don’t want to make the effort to do it.” Be ready with questions: Is the lack of willingness to take action due to a written policy? At what level are such decisions and policies made? Is the reasoning rational and clearly supported by facts and solid research? Has the intervention you seek been done at other schools in the district?

  By all means, get your kid tested. Test results are a solid backup to a parent’s arguments for exceptions to the norm. Some parents may be uncomfortable describing their child’s needs in terms of “special education,” but the fact is that without specialized services, students at both extremes of the ability scale don’t learn well in a normal classroom. Testing can also reveal issues holding a gifted child back; some of these conditions may be disabilities—such as dyslexia or attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder—for which special services are mandated by law.

  Any child with strong intellectual abilities should take the ACT or the SAT college entrance exam in the seventh grade instead of waiting until junior or senior year of high school. A high score can open up all sorts of doors, including invitations to university-run summer courses, scholarships, travel opportunities, and high-quality supplemental learning programs. (For an up-to-date list of strategies, programs, resources, and financial-aid options for gifted children, see www.tomclynes.com.)

  Finally: Keep in mind that putting a child on a gifted-education track has pitfalls. The gifted student’s needs should be considered in the context of the entire family’s well-being. Also, intellectual development shouldn’t come at the expense of social/emotional development. Once a child is labeled gifted, the constant pressure to perform can become an emotional burden, and it can also impede the development of a growth mindset. Some students become worried about protecting their image and don’t want to embrace intellectual risk-taking or open themselves up to failures that could challenge that perception.

  Labeling and early achievement come with other risks too, as Taylor and his parents learned. It wasn’t Taylor or his family who fixed the labels genius and Einstein on him, but Taylor, Joey, Tiffany, and Kenneth all experienced some of the darker consequences. A pedestal, as it turns out, makes an extremely wobbly foundation.

  Despite the advantages implied by the term gifted, an exceptionally talented child’s journey can be rocky. Half a century ago, intellectually precocious students were seen as strategic resources, and nurturing exceptional talent was a high priority. Educators recognized that these children had special needs, and policymakers realized that meeting those needs was essential to the country’s security. Programs for the academically talented burgeoned during the Cold War and began to pay off as Sputnik-generation brainiacs rose to become high-achieving adults. Though the focus on the country’s brightest children was driven by fear and worries of inferiority, the byproduct was a surge in innovations that boosted the quality and length of American lives, created tens of millions of jobs, and fueled much of the West’s economic growth.

  Now that focus on gifted education has moved east, along with many of the dividends it produced. The world’s fastest developing economies have picked up the ball we’ve dropped and are running with the idea that future success depends on developing the talents of the brightest young people. As American school standards continue to decline compared to the rest of the world’s, rising countries have placed their bets on high-performing children and created innovative programs to support them.

  For the past three decades, American policymakers have wrung their hands over the loss of jobs and competitiveness while at the same time stripping resources from gifted-and-talented programs and research, ignoring the fact that success in a postindustrial economy depends on the intellectual capability of a nation’s population. Instead of trying to rebuild the nation’s talent pool, we are squandering a crucial natural resource.

  Beyond the threat to any one nation’s economic competitiveness, there’s the cost to the world of failing to cultivate the talents of those who could push the frontiers of knowledge forward. We’ll need the breakthroughs of these potential innovators—in domains as varied as nuclear fusion energy, pandemic prevention, and peacemaking—if we are to stand any chance of preserving a habitable planet.

  Ironically, the decline of educational programs for the gifted has coincided with an increase in the understanding of how best to educate gifted children. We can now confidently predict which young children are likely to go on to be high performers if they get the right support, and we know how to nurture their talents—often in ways that are not particularly resource-intensive. And yet, we are not making society-wide efforts to do so.

  It is the responsibility of public schools to provide appropriate education to all children. It has become clear, though, that our industrial education system is woefully inadequate for children of all abilities and particularly for children at the top end. A few schools have overturned this broken model and developed new, research-based approaches to pedagogy that can serve the entire spectrum of children. Thei
r approach rejects the one-size-fits-all model and replaces it with an individualized and interest-based learning model. Instead of forcing students to fit into the system—which has never worked very well—the schools try to meet each child’s unique needs. Their role is to help students recognize their talents and support them as they pursue their chosen interests.

  Some argue that this approach would strain the resources of normal school systems—but so do the behavioral problems of students who are underchallenged or struggling to keep up. And the social costs of an undereducated and underproductive populace strain our entire society.

  Recently, after several decades in the shadows, gifted children’s needs are creeping back into the national consciousness. As government support has dried up, private philanthropists such as Jan and Bob Davidson have stepped in with funding and innovative programming. Slowly, new options are opening up for gifted kids. Some school systems are reviving—or at least considering—grade-skipping and other acceleration options, and university-run summer programs for high-schoolers have expanded, as have online education programs. New talent searches, competitions, and awards programs—especially for STEM-focused kids—are expanding what has become something of a farm system devoted to finding and developing youthful talent. Though many programs are still hobbled by funding shortages and outdated attitudes, some in the gifted-and-talented community are seeing signs of a budding renaissance.

  And yet, one has to wonder if it’s the right kind of renaissance. The beneficiaries of the latest expansion of gifted-and-talented programs have largely been the children of affluent, well-educated parents, whose preoccupation with high-performing superchildren seems to be driven, at least in part, by parental vanity. A booming talent-development industry has sprung up to boost these children’s chances of success, with legions of tutors, test-prep entrepreneurs, and admissions consultants (one of whom promises to return his sixty-thousand-dollar fee if a student isn’t accepted to an Ivy League university).

  “In the quest to pinpoint and promote exceptional youthful promise,” wrote Ann Hulbert in the New York Times Magazine, “testers and contests and advocates may have unwittingly introduced early pressure to conform, not to the crowd but to an assiduously monitored, preprofessionalized and future-oriented trajectory.” The early pressure to both excel and conform often comes at the emotional expense of the children whose accomplishments provide their parents with bragging rights. Acquiring knowledge for its own sake has gone out of fashion, replaced by a high-pressure talent track onto which promising, prosperous children are pushed. This track is competitive, highly scripted, and pointed directly at the difficult but somewhat mundane goal of Ivy League acceptance followed by careers that promise to be lucrative, if not necessarily rewarding or world-changing.

  Maybe that’s not what education for the gifted should be all about. Maybe it should be about (1) encouraging supersmart kids to discover who they really are and who they want to become and giving them the support and freedom to pursue their passions; (2) developing talents into suitable and fulfilling careers that enhance interesting, rewarding lives; and (3) encouraging curiosity and intellectual risk-taking that might lead to original, useful ideas that propel a field—or even a civilization—forward.

  But the biggest and saddest problem with the current state of gifted-and-talented education in our society is this: Support for the top end of the talent curve is still a privilege enjoyed primarily by students who are also at the top end of the socioeconomic curve. The gates that guard the path from talented youth to high-achieving adult remain essentially closed to poor and even many middle-class kids and to kids who grow up in places—such as southern Arkansas—where education is not a priority. Given that giftedness can spring from anywhere—from the blue blood of Boston’s Back Bay or from a Coca-Cola bottler and a yoga instructor in Texarkana—it’s worth pondering how many Taylors we are missing and the implications of that for our society.

  “What our recent studies underscore is the tremendous amount of potential out there,” says David Lubinski, the Vanderbilt University psychologist who codirects the Study of Mathematically Precocious Youth. “Our concern is that we’re not coming close to identifying all of this population, that many of the smartest kids in the country thus don’t get the special attention they need to explore and extend their interests, and develop their capabilities to a high level.”

  Even for those who are identified, the high price of programming deters many. The cost for the residential Johns Hopkins Center for Talented Youth’s summer program ranges between $4,065 and $5,145 (although limited need-based scholarships are available), and Stanford’s Education Program for Gifted Youth costs close to $17,000 a year—for an online program. Fees for the batteries of assessments and portfolio submissions required for admission can run into the thousands of dollars. Davidson Academy is tuition-free, but Colleen Harsin has no illusions about her school’s failure to serve deserving children of limited means. “It’s just not realistic,” Harsin says, “for most people to do what Taylor’s family did, quit their jobs and move across the country.”

  Research shows that genetic and environmental advantages multiply with the passage of years, as do disadvantages. Someone who was identified as gifted at thirteen and, as a result, given advanced instruction will be in a dramatically higher intellectual and socioeconomic position when he graduates from college than a similarly gifted peer who wasn’t identified (or who was identified but for one reason or another did not receive appropriate support). In contrast to the well-endowed youth who leapfrog their classmates and convert high hopes into real achievement, gifted kids who are underchallenged typically become bored and frustrated, and their motivation and shoulders sink ever further. Thus, doors that have been shut for generations remain shut, and the gap between high-potential high achievers and high-potential low achievers grows wider.

  There are bright spots, such as the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation’s Young Scholars Program, which provides exceptionally promising, financially needy eighth-graders with summer academic enrichment, study-abroad opportunities, and art or music master classes followed up with financial support and ongoing counseling and advocacy. And yet, as of 2014, the Young Scholars Program has been able to serve a total of only six hundred students.

  David Feldman, the Tufts University child-prodigy researcher, has noted that it takes an uncanny convergence of circumstances lining up just right for talent to flourish. The consequence is that of the millions of children born with the potential to propel themselves to mastery, only a tiny portion are given the chance to become eminent, creative, high-achieving adults. Taylor was one of the lucky few. He was blessed with brains and curiosity and the gift of gab, with extraordinary parents who went to great lengths to ensure that he had access to an extraordinary education, and with a seemingly magic combination of other personal characteristics that contributed to his success. He drew in supportive mentors and teachers who believed in him and helped him realize his improbable dreams.

  “That,” says Feldman, “is a lot to get right.”

  The fact that the particular circumstances that helped Taylor develop his gifts have now largely evaporated demonstrates just how tenuous and capricious the whole talent-development process can be. The magic circles that Taylor fell into and that allowed him to become the Taylor he is today are mostly gone. Davidson Academy, though it is still the gold standard for developing certain kinds of talent, has drifted away from its freeform approach to interest-based learning. Declining education funding has made mentors at UNR ever more scarce. Ron Phaneuf is retired, and other professors have been furloughed or distracted by shrinking research budgets. “All of this makes it harder for the university to be a good partner with Davidson, to provide that support,” says Bruno Bauer. “For example, there will be no new Bill [Brinsmead] coming on board. That position won’t be replaced.”

  When it comes to supporting children who have the potential to become tomorrow’s innovators, says
Simonton, “it takes not just a village or school system but a whole sociocultural system.”

  Whether we use it or not, we have the recipe to build that system: parents who are courageous enough to give their children wings and let them fly in the directions they choose; schools that support children as individuals; a society that understands the difference between elitism and individualized education and that addresses the needs of kids at all levels.

  Feldman may be right, for now at least, that the success of a gifted child depends largely on luck. But it doesn’t have to be that way. As a democratic society, we do, to a large extent, make our own luck. We create the conditions that allow us—and our children, and the society of the future—to thrive, or to falter.

  Acknowledgments

  I EXTEND MY HEARTFELT thanks to the Wilson family, whose openness, generosity, and trust made this book possible. Tiffany, Kenneth, Taylor, Joey, and Ashlee shared their home and lives and feelings with me and encouraged me to form my own impressions about their experiences. As result, I’ve been able to share the story of a real family whose journey gives us much to learn from.

  Taylor’s inner circle—especially Bill Brinsmead, Ron Phaneuf, and Carl Willis—generously and candidly opened up their laboratories, homes, and memories. Other friends and mentors who shared recollections and insights include Sofia Baig, David Boudreaux, Anthony Fidaleo, Ikya Kandula, Angela Melde, Dee Miller, George Ochs, Ellen Orr, Tristan Rasmussen, and Stephen Younger. I also appreciate the time and access provided by the faculty and staff at Davidson Academy, including Jan and Bob Davidson, Julie Dudley, Colleen Harsin, Melissa Lance, Darren Ripley, Alanna Simmons, and Elizabeth Walenta. At the University of Nevada–Reno, I’m grateful for the input of Benny Bach, Bruno Bauer, Wade Cline, Andrew Oxner, and Friedwardt Winterberg.