What teachers need to understand about exceptional students
As a new school year commences, I’ve been thinking about what teachers — myself included — need to understand about exceptional students.
A few things came to mind that I plan to explore in more depth in future posts.
Here’s the short list
Smart doesn’t equal smartie pants
A moment that’s seared in my memory — a moment of realizing my profound difference — was seventh grade history class.
“When did World War II start?”
Having practically memorized the World Book Encyclopedia entry on said conflict, I piped up: “Well, Germany invaded Poland on September 1st, 1939, and Britain declared war on September 3rd…”
Now, I realize that could have read as show-off at best, sarcastic at worst. But it wasn’t meant that way: I assumed everyone else had the same information.
It can be easy, especially in a classroom setting, to be exasperated (if only internally) by the student who insists on articulating every fact, just because it exists, and who pounces with innocent kittenish ruthlessness on any minor error or omission.
These students are not being ‘smartie pants’ though — they are just smart.
Exceptional doesn’t mean omniscient
Asymmetric achievement can be a real head-twister for educators. How is it that a student who can name all 200-plus countries in the world can’t remember to write the date at the top of an assignment? Why does someone who can untangle software snafus still type with two fingers? Why do elementary social rules elude kids who can debate philosophy?
Too often, gifted and 2E students’ achievements in some areas mean they are left to flounder in others, because teachers assume they are will figure things out themselves.
This is inaccurate, unfair and hampers exceptional learners’ intellectual and social development. Often giftedness, especially combined with neurodivergence, means they need more support with executive function and social-emotional skills, not less.
Gifted students are not unpaid TAs
From seventh to eleventh grade, I attended a tiny parochial school — and was an unpaid teaching assistant.
Once my teachers realized I could absorb almost anything written in a single pass, I became a support worker for my peers — to the point I led pre-exam study sessions and even set exam questions.
Not surprisingly, this did sod-all for my already minimal social capital.
Hopefully professional standards in most schools prevent this, but there is always a risk of an academically superior pupil falling into a ‘teacher-ish’ role — they may even (as I did) welcome it as an instance where they feel appreciated for their differences.
Learners should be celebrated and encouraged, but they should not be adultified, nor should they be singled out in ways that affect them socially. Teachers need to stay teachers, and protect their students right to be students.
What else should teachers consider as they start a new year?
Share your thoughts in the comments!