Some argue that with the right educational techniques, many, if not most, children can achieve at a level of a mildly gifted child. The idea is either that all children are potentially gifted, or that gifted children are the product of coaching and parental effort, not some kind of magic they carry from the womb.
“Research is clear that brains are malleable, new neural pathways can be forged, and IQ isn’t fixed,” says Wendy Berliner, co-author of Great Minds and How to Grow Them from 2017. “Most Nobel laureates were unexceptional in childhood,” she writes.
Much more important, this argument goes, is perseverance, effort and quality teaching – much like the 10,000 hours theory to gain mastery over any particular discipline.
Then there’s the philosophy that all children are gifted in their own way, that every child surely has a special talent that might set them apart. “The great teachers and the great schools find the gifts in every student,” agrees Deborah Harman, an educator of 45 years and one of the leaders in Victoria’s accelerated learning program, noting: “All students – especially those who are gifted – need to feel a sense of belonging to their classes and their peers.”
And yet, there are the children – the alphabet boy, for one – who seem to be different right out of the blocks, behaving in ways no parent could have confected.
Elissa McKay, a mum of a gifted 10-year-old, Finn, grew so frustrated with the myths surrounding giftedness that she compiled her own “primer”, a kind of online booklet widely shared in the internet forums that some parents of gifted children inhabit (largely to share tips, schools advice, war stories and to ask the perennial question: is my child gifted?).
We meet at Elissa’s home on the leafy outskirts of Melbourne, where Finn has just celebrated his birthday, which meant the long-awaited acquisition of a new yo-yo (yes, the craze has come around once again) and the surprise adoption of a kitten.
Like many gifted children, Finn was reading fluently three years before he started school and, when he did start school, he was reading at high-school level, says Elissa. But he had something of a mixed educational journey until he was grade-skipped two years (three years for maths). Before then, says Elissa, “his reports were really mediocre”. It’s a myth that gifted children need no educational support, she says. This is one of the subjects she addresses in her primer, along with the notions that gifted children are best treated just like their peers (she says they’re not) and that they eventually “level out” (she says they never do).
Indeed, Andrew Attard is showing few signs of levelling out. His mother, Julia Lewthwaite, recalls taking him for a check-up at a child and maternal health centre when he was six months old. “He started pulling puzzles from a shelf and actually completing them. The nurse basically said to me, ‘I think your child might be gifted.’” By age three, he was reading, she recalls, “and that’s where the real craziness started”. “He wanted to go walking down all the streets, reading all the street signs, reading all the house names, the house numbers.”
Andrew was tested and found to be in the “profoundly gifted” range, about one in 30,000 students. Now 15, he is about to become the youngest student to complete the NSW HSC.
If you want to “manufacture” a gifted child, you’re probably best off starting with two smart parents. Many of the families we spoke with professed to be surprised when their offspring tested in the gifted range, but it usually turned out they had a rocket scientist for an aunt or an uncle.
“Both my parents, I’m sure, are profoundly gifted,” says another mother of gifted children. “My parents met at Oxford (university), my husband and I met at Oxford, there isn’t anyone without a PhD, you know. It’s just snowballed in our family.” Helen, meanwhile, now suspects her husband, who went to a selective school, is gifted and that she might have been herself had she been identified as such, although her focus as a child brought up by a struggling single mother was survival, not excelling academically. “I had a very different journey in that respect.”