Good thing I’m not one for scrapping!
My son is an exceptionally bright young man. For the duration of this post, he will be referred to as John.
Rather than giving you details of the many ways in which he excels, let it be enough to say that his teachers have always remarked on how advanced he is intellectually; he’s creative and artistic as well; he draws, writes stories, and turns every game into a screenplay, probably because he wants to write and direct movies someday. Of course, that will come after he finds a way to implant some sort of microchip into the joints of people who can’t walk so that their own legs function similarly to an artificial prosthetic called the C-Leg.
John is constantly thinking, planning, creating and building things. He’s more interested in setting trends than in following them. He is extremely well spoken and articulate for his age, and his teachers and counselors often say that he is a “joy” to work with, commenting on how very “engaging” he is. He is an honor roll student who has already received several academic awards and commendations.
John is also sensitive, compassionate, well-mannered and respectful. He’s always willing and eager to help anyone who needs a hand. He tells the truth even when it might get him into trouble, and even if he could get away with lying.
As his mother, I’m probably biased, but many of these same observations have been made by uncountable people (often strangers he’s lent a hand to without being asked) throughout his life.
The trouble this creates for John is that he very rarely meets other kids his age who relate to him. If that’s not bad enough, he was actually picked on, made fun of, called names and even bullied for being “brainy” and attending the Gifted and Talented (GT) program last year.
Now that I’ve familiarized you somewhat with John, let me tell you about “them fightin’ words”.