The process of identity development in intellectually gifted children and adolescents is complicated by their innate and acquired differences from age-peers. To be valued within a peer culture which values conformity, gifted young people may mask their giftedness and develop alternative identities which are perceived as more socially acceptable. The weaving of this protective mask requires the gifted child to conceal her love of learning, her interests which differ from those of age-peers, and her advanced moral development. If this assumed identity does indeed bring her the social acceptance she seeks, the gifted child may become afraid to take off her mask. Gifted children and adolescents need the opportunity to work and socialize with others of similar abilities and interests if they are to grow towards self-acceptance. This article is illustrated by poetry and diary entries written by highly gifted young people, portraying the process of their own identity development.
“I have come to the conclusion that the degree of my difference from most people exceeds the average of most people’s difference from one another; or, to put it more briefly, that my reactions to many things don’t conform to popular patterns.” (C.E.M. Joad, 1947.)
During the 1940s and 1950s, one of the most popular radio programs in Britain was The Brains Trust in which a panel of intellectuals, entertainers or politicians, chosen for their skill with words and ideas, responded to questions sent in by listeners. One of the most popular panelists was Professor C.E.M. Joad, a brilliant scholar and gifted writer who had a remarkable ability to explain highly complex, sometimes controversial theories in language that made them accessible, and, indeed, fascinating to the layperson.
Joad was extremely precise in his response to questions. He was constantly aware of the ambiguity of the language in which the questions were often phrased and he was anxious to ensure that his answer was both accurate and clearly understood. His somewhat pedantic response to almost any question; “It all depends on what you mean by…” was greeted by the studio audience with the delighted and affectionate laughter with which they would have greeted the catchphrase of a favorite comedian. Few listeners understood the urge which prompted the response — Joad’s need to define the terms of the question both for himself and for the audience, to delineate the grey areas, and to clarify precisely those aspects to which he felt he could respond. For this gentle, scholarly man, the careful and deliberate qualification with which he started his response was an integral and essential part of the answer.
Despite his skill and popularity as a communicator, Joad found personal relationships difficult. As the above quotation shows, he was constantly aware of his difference from the great majority of people, and the degree of that difference. Linked to this awareness was the ever-present longing for congenial companionship, and the knowledge, bought with experience, that he was unlikely to find it. Indeed, a few years before his death, he confided to a colleague, “My life is spent in a perpetual alternation between two rhythms, the rhythm of attracting people for fear I may be lonely, and the rhythm of getting rid of them because I know that I am bored” (Joad, 1948).
Like many other highly gifted adults, Joad had developed a range of professional identities within which he was accepted by others – the scholar, the writer, the broadcaster. It was, however, extremely difficult for him to maintain productive social relationships. The characteristics, attitudes and opinions which people accepted in Joad the scholar were a hindrance in his attempts to develop an identity as a private individual. As he himself phrased it, his “reactions to many things” did not “conform to popular patterns.”
The Development of Identity
Steinberg (1985) lists five sets of psychosocial concerns which affect our lives as we progress from childhood to adulthood, intensifying in the adolescent years. These are: the development of identity — the quest for a personal sense of self and an acceptance of one’s individuality; the growth of autonomy — the process of establishing oneself as an independent, self-determining individual; the search for intimacy and the establishment of peer relationships based on trust, openness, and a similarity of values; the management of one’s developing sexuality; and the need to achieve, and be recognized for one’s achievements.
These five concerns interact and exert considerable influence on each other and for the majority of adolescents they are compatible, indeed complementary. However, for intellectually gifted young people, particularly the highly gifted, the drives for identity, autonomy and achievement may conflict with the need for intimacy. Gross (1989) discusses the “forced choice dilemma” which confronts the gifted child whose desire to excel in an area of talent which is undervalued by her agemates conflicts with her need to be accepted by the peer culture. If she is to satisfy her drive for excellence and perform at the level of which she knows she is capable, she may risk sacrificing the attainment of intimacy with age-peers who may be disconcerted by, or even resentful of, her abilities. If the pursuit of intimacy is her primary need, she must moderate her standards of achievement, conceal, to some extent at least, her intellectual interests, and conform to a value system that may be seriously at variance with her own levels of emotional or moral development. Gross (1989) proposes that this conflict between the two normally complementary drives of intimacy and achievement may be the central psychosocial dilemma of gifted youth. To resolve it, many highly gifted children retreat behind a mask of social conformity.
In his work on identity development, Erikson (1968) describes the identifications the child forms over the years with parents, siblings, teachers, peers and others on whom she is encouraged to model her behaviors, attitudes and desires. Her task is to select, from the smorgasbord of possible identities which are presented to her, those that best fit her current perceptions of who she is and what she might become. This process of selection may involve a period of role experimentation, during which the child tries on a number of different personalities in an attempt to discover her true self.
The process of identity development, therefore, requires a period of role experimentation – selecting aspects of oneself which one will develop (usually those aspects which are deemed acceptable by the peer culture) and discarding those which are less valued, or even denigrated. Unfortunately, the role models with which the gifted child is encouraged to identify are likely to be adults or children who have been successful in a culture which rewards social and ideological conformity, and which values a comfortable and non-threatening mediocrity. In fact, these models are unlikely to be intellectually gifted (Schunk, 1987). What happens, then, if the identity that the peer group applauds and accepts is a false identity with which the gifted child herself feels uncomfortable–an identity based on surface similarities but with no real depth? More importantly, what happens if the gifted child comes to believe that her true identity is based not on superficial similarities to the peer group, but on differences–differences that they are unlikely to understand, ignore or forgive?
The Early Onset Of Adolescence
Changes in the way in which individuals perceive themselves and feel about themselves, occur throughout the life cycle. Even quite young children can be aware of other people’s positive or negative impressions of them and will alter their behavior to model what they perceive to be desirable attributes or attitudes. The gifted child’s search for an identity which makes her acceptable to the children with whom she has to work and socialize may be well established by the middle years of elementary school.
The majority of research on identity development ignores the childhood years and focuses on adolescence. Many researchers assume that, prior to adolescence, children have a limited capacity for abstract reasoning (Keating and Bobbitt, 1978), that their thinking is oriented to the here and now–things they can observe directly–rather than to possibilities (Steinberg, 1985), and that they are less likely to analyze their relationships with others or speculate on how relationships could be improved (Hill and Palmquist, 1978). A wealth of research, however, reveals the degree to which intellectually gifted children begin to walk and speak earlier than their age-peers, and move through the stages of speech and mobility acquisition more rapidly (Terman, 1925; Jersild, 1960; Silverman, 1989; Gross, 1992, 1993b), learn to read earlier, and prefer books written for children several years older (Hollingworth, 1926; VanTassel-Baska, 1983; Gross, 1993a), and use information processing strategies normally utilized by children some years older (Kanevsky, 1990).
A similar precocity of development is evident in the socio-affective domain. For instance, the advanced development of moral reasoning in gifted students has intrigued researchers for the last 70 years (outlined in Gross, 1993a). Emotional sensitivity, and the capacity to empathize and feel compassion, is visible in some gifted children from surprisingly early ages (Gross, 1989; Silverman, 1983).
Indeed, many of the behaviors, attitudes and needs which are characteristic of adolescence appear in intellectually gifted children in the middle or later years of childhood. The psychosocial drives towards identity, autonomy, intimacy and achievement can be expected to intensify earlier in intellectually gifted children than in children of average ability, and intensification of these drives can increase the feeling of salience – even alienation – in the gifted young person who is already aware that she is different.
The Awareness of Difference
How early do intellectually gifted children become aware of the ways in which they differ from age-peers? This, of course, depends on the individual and is influenced by a range of factors including personality, level of giftedness and the family’s response to the child’s difference. The majority of gifted children, however, become aware of their difference at surprisingly early ages. This is, in part, because the differences in physiological development which characterize the intellectually gifted child appear at such an early age, are so immediately visible, and are often commented on in the child’s presence or within her hearing. It is difficult not to notice (or to conceal!) an eager toddler who is speaking in sentences by her first birthday, or who is trotting around independently at 10 months of age (Gross, 1993a). Family members, adult friends, and even total strangers notice and comment on the young child’s verbal or physical precocity. Generally at this stage, the comments are positive or at least neutral. No one assumes that an early walker or early talker has been hothoused by a doting parent.
When early and unusually mature speech is accompanied by early reading, however, reaction from the community can be very different. Among intellectually gifted children, at least 50% of the moderately gifted (IQ range 130-144) and at least 80% of the highly gifted (IQ of 145+) enter school already reading (VanTassel-Baska, 1983; Gross, 1993a). It is not uncommon for highly gifted youngsters to teach themselves to read before the age of four, through television, street signs and the many other sources of print freely available in the community.
Teachers often assume that a child who enters school already reading must have been taught to read by her parents, and many teachers resent this. Virtually every child in this author’s study of 53 Australian children of IQ 160+ (Gross, 1992, 1993a, 1994) entered school with the reading skills of children aged seven, eight or older, but where the children’s teachers commented to the parents on this unusual reading advancement, the majority of comments centered not on the quality of the child’s reading but on the presumed involvement of the parent. Comments such as, “It’s not fair to hothouse her like that”, “Let him be a child; he’ll have to grow up soon enough”, and “There’s no point in pushing her like that; the others will catch up anyway” are common. It is disturbing to note the frequency with which these critical comments have been made by teachers in the presence of the child.
Another factor in the gifted child’s early recognition of her difference is the early onset of norm-referenced behavior. As children move through the pre-school and primary years, the egocentricity of early childhood gradually gives place to an awareness of the opinions, abilities and achievements of others. This shift in perspective is more closely linked to mental age than to chronological age; thus a highly gifted child of four or five may have already reached a stage of norm-referenced behavior which her age-peers of average ability may not reach till seven or eight. She may notice, even at that early age, that the other children in her pre-school cannot yet read or count, that their vocabulary is more restricted, and that the games they like are the kind of thing she liked a year or so before.
For all these reasons, the gifted child is likely to become aware, at an early age, that she is different from the children around her. Contrary to popular myth, however, this awareness rarely leads to feelings of conceit or superiority. Rather, gifted children are likely to blame themselves for the discrepancies between themselves and their age-peers. Tolan (1987) offers a telling illustration: “One of the problems gifted children often face in school has to do with their being developmentally out of synch with their chronological peers… A gifted six-year-old first grader may have reached the level of development (normally reached between the ages of eight and nine) at which she especially likes games with complex rules… She is more likely to think, ‘They don’t like me.’ And it is a very short step from ‘they don’t like me’ to ‘I’m not likable’.”
Hollingworth (1926) defined an IQ range as “socially optimal intelligence” and noted that above very high levels social isolation problems correlate with exceptional giftedness. However, this isolation is not intrinsic pathology but often the absence of a suitable peer group.
More than 80% of the children of IQ 160+ studied by this author report that the intense social isolation they experience in the inclusion classroom, and the perpetual self-monitoring of their own behavior in attempts to conform to the social and cultural expectations of the peer group, combined with an unchallenging and repetitive curriculum, result in extreme and ongoing intellectual and emotional frustration (Gross, 1993a).
Frustration
Frustration is there, everyway I look,
Grasping at me, like some expensive jewel.
It wells up inside me like an inflating balloon
just waiting to explode.
It gnaws at my mind
Chewing at all particles of thought.
It distracts my brain from concentrating,
Like an itching mosquito bite.
It sucks me downwards into a churning
whirlpool of anger.
I am confused, my thoughts feel like dice in a cup.
They dart dizzily around my head
in a trance-like state.
It forces me ferociously about
If I resist this horrible force it only puts me in pain.
When I am in this hypnotic state
Pressure engulfs me like a thick blanket.
I become its faithful servant.
Its every wish is my command
and my body is dull and lifeless.
Elizabeth, a profoundly gifted young woman, wrote the following poignant self-analysis a few days before her 16th birthday, when she had finally accepted, after many years of struggling against her difference, that the normalcy she strove for was not something she would ever reach. “I am different, and I know I am, but despite statements to the contrary, this society is a very conformist one, and it is very difficult for me to give up all hope of being ‘normal’ — that ideal that is undefined but is that which I am not. People say I should be proud of what I have accomplished, but to me it is not what I have accomplished; it is who I am… I learn the way I was born learning, and I have tried, repeatedly, painfully and unsuccessfully, to train myself out of it… I would rather cling to the hope that someday someone like me will grow up without that tinge of guilt, and longing to be something that they are both told is lesser, and at the same time, more ‘normal’ than they.”
The need to escape from such bewilderment, frustration and loneliness may become a compelling force. If the gifted child believes that significant elements of who and what she is are unacceptable to her age-peers, she may invest considerable time and energy in determining what behaviors, attitudes and interests are acceptable, and adopting these as a form of protective coloring.
Weaving The Mask
Coleman (1985) suggests that gifted children realize, quite early, that other people’s behavior towards them changes when their difference becomes evident. Accordingly, the gifted child attempts to manipulate the information others have about her by skillfully adapting her behavior and performance to conform to the social and educational norms of her age-group. To protect themselves from peer rejection, highly gifted children can become masters of camouflage (Gross, 1993a), concealing and shielding their developing identity behind a more acceptable facade.
This facility to blend in to the group can have a profound effect both on the young child’s academic performance and on her social behavior. For instance, the majority of highly gifted students enter school with the reading accuracy and comprehension of students several years older, yet if the teacher does not recognize and respond to this precocity, the gifted young child may stop reading, or deliberately decrease the quality and quantity of her reading, after only a few weeks. More than 70% of the early readers in Gross’s study of children of IQ 160+ radically modified their in-class reading performance or stopped reading altogether within the first four weeks of school (Gross, 1993a). Interestingly, their reading at home continued unabated with no decrease in quality. The modification of their in-class reading standards was in response to a strongly felt need to conform to the behavior of their peers.
Swiatek (1995) reported strategies highly gifted adolescents use to minimize visibility of giftedness, including active denial of being gifted and cultivating second identities in more socially acceptable fields such as music or sport.
Highly gifted adolescents or adults who spend much of their lives concealing their true abilities and interests behind a protective mask risk losing touch with their innermost feelings and beliefs. The realization in adulthood of how much one has denied one’s giftedness in earlier years can be cathartic, but learning to redefine oneself as a gifted individual can be a healing experience. This process of redefinition may be initiated by encountering other gifted people with whom one can identify.
Philip Wilson, a highly gifted young man, described reading Exceptionally Gifted Children (Gross, 1993a) as “a rather curious, comforting feeling, like having a well-known favorite spot that one goes to as a child, or coming home after being away, or finding a piece to a jigsaw” (Wilson, 1997). He had camouflaged his intellectual capacities and developed an alternative identity as a sports star in high school.
The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name
Philip’s talent in sport allowed him to be forgiven for being gifted intellectually — as long as he allowed his intellectual gifts to remain in the shadow of his sporting prowess. He was expected to show a passion for sport, but he had to conceal his deeper love of learning.
“One of the basic characteristics of the gifted is their intensity and an expanded field of their subjective experience… It is not a matter of degree, but of a different quality of experiencing: vivid, absorbing, penetrating, encompassing, complex, commanding — a way of being quiveringly alive” (Piechowski, 1991). The intensity and passionate love of learning often must be denied when gifted children hide their gifts.
Oscar Wilde called homosexual love “the love that dare not speak its name.” The author asks whether love of learning has become “the love that dare not speak its name.” The process of self-acceptance and acceptance of one’s gift demands great courage.
“Periods of intense emotional growth can bring on such sudden inner shifts as to produce moments of disequilibrium and estrangement. One feels at odds with the surroundings, as if suddenly alien to what was familiar before. Feelings of unreality are the natural product of great emotional intensity and of feeling ‘different’” (Piechowski, 1997).
Alexa, a highly gifted Scottish girl of 13, wrote the poem “Adolescence” while struggling with self-questioning and masking. The poem reads:
Was it a moment or a thousand years
That passed since I was still a child, and free?
No new emotions, no embarrassed fears
Disrupted my serene simplicity.
Perhaps my very childishness became
A rampart wall protecting me from pain.
Half-formed desires, new thoughts I could not name
Stirred, strove for life, and quickly died again.
But now, defenseless, facing adulthood
I stand, half-lonely, half-afraid, unsure.
Those feelings once I thought I understood
Have changed, become bewildering, obscure.
Now from maturity’s once-longed for shore
I shrink, and pray to be a child once more.
Alexa’s poem illustrates feelings of disequilibrium and estrangement. Placement in an ability-grouped program gave her access to other gifted peers and helped her begin self-acceptance: “In a very real sense I am my poetry… if I show only my poetry and not the ‘Me’ that is behind it, then I am denying the poetry as well as denying myself.”
Moral Development and the Search for Identity
The advanced development of moral reasoning in gifted students has intrigued researchers. Studies have found some elementary school students functioning at post-conventional moral levels normally seen much later. This can cause emotional conflict when the gifted child interacts with age-peers who cannot appreciate the issues troubling the gifted student.
Three case studies illustrate difficulties: Leon (age nine) organized a petition about a violent classmate and was publicly berated by the principal; Emma (seventh grade) was ostracized when she spoke about serious political events and regained acceptance by reverting to expected conversation topics; Darren (age ten) concealed his advanced moral sensibilities within a tough persona to retain membership in a violent peer culture and feared losing his identity.
Leon, Emma and Darren function at moral judgment levels far beyond their age-peers and each copes differently. The mask can protect but may also conceal the wearer from herself. If the gifted child is not assisted toward self-acceptance, the depersonalization described by Darren can continue into adulthood.
Identity Diffusion in Adulthood
The formulation of a secure personal identity and the attainment of intimacy are primary adolescent tasks. Highly gifted young people who lacked warm supportive relationships in youth may find it difficult to develop sound interpersonal relationships in adulthood, and some may choose solitude. Einstein wrote of solitude being “painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity,” acknowledging the pain of youthful isolation.
George Bernard Shaw and Einstein illustrate extremes of identity diffusion—masks and detachment—but both show what can result when gifted individuals fail to establish identity and belonging in youth.
Elizabeth, accelerated through schooling, affirms she would have grown up very differently if denied access to intellectual peers; acceleration helped preserve her mind and participation. The public personae of figures like Joad, Shaw and Einstein became masks behind which they concealed insecurity about personal relationships.
Silverman (1997) argues that the capacity to love others develops only after self-love, through stages including self-awareness, finding kindred spirits, feeling understood, and self-acceptance. The capacity for strong friendships requires being understood and accepted by similar others.
Self-acceptance is essential in identity formation; Cyril Joad never reached it. Through effective interventions, Anna, Alexa and Elizabeth are growing towards it. As educators and community members it is our power and responsibility to help gifted students seek and accept, with love, “the me behind the mask.”
References
References and detailed citations as provided in the original article are retained in the full publication.
