Gifted Children
When The Child was very wee, 2ish, The Spouse was quizzing her about things she knew. He asked her, "What does a kitty say?"
"Meow".
"What does a doggie say?"
"Woof, woof".
"How many is this?" (holding up 3 fingers).
"Tree".
"What is Hegel's dialectic?"
"Huh?"
So he thought it would be amusing to teach her "Thesis, antithesis, synthesis".
Then he'd show her off. "Honey, what is Hegel's Dialectic?"
"Thethis, antithethis, synthethis".
Clever girl.
She's still being serious about math and at dinner wanted to prepare for a quiz today by sharing with us what she'd learned in class. It was this:
The Pythagorean theorem: The sum of the areas of the two squares on the legs (a and b) equals the area of the square on the hypotenuse (c).The theorem is as follows:
In any right triangle, the area of the square whose side is the hypotenuse (the side of a right triangle opposite the right angle) is equal to the sum of areas of the squares whose sides are the two legs (i.e. the two sides other than the hypotenuse).
If we let c be the length of the hypotenuse and a and b be the lengths of the other two sides, the theorem can be expressed as the equation a²+b²=c² or, solved for c:
√ a²+b²= c
That's right, friends, Euclidean geometry. Not that I understand it. I just like saying "Euclidean". And "hypotenuse"
Here's the thing about my generation of parents. They all think their child(ren) is/are gifted. It starts really early. "Oh, little Sebastian was sleeping through the night from the first day". "My little Eudora, she's so gifted. Why, she potty trained herself at 4 months". "I really don't mean to brag, but Anastasia was reading Dickens, to herself mind you, when she was 18 months. I think she's gifted".
Here's a news flash. Hardly any of the little darlings of this generation are baby Einsteins. Sure, a few of them are. And I played classical music to my little darling, too. U2, The Beatles, Dylan, like that. I sang her a lullaby in Spanish and counted her little toes with her and enrolled her in dance class. You do those things. And certainly, children are born with unique gifts, aptitudes and talents. Which are superfantastic and should be nurtured. But come on. The fact that I happen to think my child is the cat's meow (a sound she could replicate in 13 languages, including Latin by the time she was 6 months old) doesn't mean she's gifted. She's my gift. There's a difference.
So when we were teaching her Hegel's Dialectic and "Don't Cry for Me Argentina", it was mostly because it was fun. Like having a pet monkey. The fact that she still remembers that stuff and that she now actually understands what the Dialectic is all about doesn't mean she's going to invent a perpetual motion machine before she graduates 8th grade. It just means that little baby brains are sponges and they can soak up a lot of groovy stuff.
Speaking of Andrew Lloyd Webber, "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" really was her favorite song when she was wee. Only she thought it was about her. She sang, "Don't Cry for Me, Boofacina", which was her nickname. It was pretty adorable.
"Meow".
"What does a doggie say?"
"Woof, woof".
"How many is this?" (holding up 3 fingers).
"Tree".
"What is Hegel's dialectic?"
"Huh?"
So he thought it would be amusing to teach her "Thesis, antithesis, synthesis".
Then he'd show her off. "Honey, what is Hegel's Dialectic?"
"Thethis, antithethis, synthethis".
Clever girl.
She's still being serious about math and at dinner wanted to prepare for a quiz today by sharing with us what she'd learned in class. It was this:
The Pythagorean theorem: The sum of the areas of the two squares on the legs (a and b) equals the area of the square on the hypotenuse (c).The theorem is as follows:
In any right triangle, the area of the square whose side is the hypotenuse (the side of a right triangle opposite the right angle) is equal to the sum of areas of the squares whose sides are the two legs (i.e. the two sides other than the hypotenuse).
If we let c be the length of the hypotenuse and a and b be the lengths of the other two sides, the theorem can be expressed as the equation a²+b²=c² or, solved for c:
√ a²+b²= c
That's right, friends, Euclidean geometry. Not that I understand it. I just like saying "Euclidean". And "hypotenuse"
Here's the thing about my generation of parents. They all think their child(ren) is/are gifted. It starts really early. "Oh, little Sebastian was sleeping through the night from the first day". "My little Eudora, she's so gifted. Why, she potty trained herself at 4 months". "I really don't mean to brag, but Anastasia was reading Dickens, to herself mind you, when she was 18 months. I think she's gifted".
Here's a news flash. Hardly any of the little darlings of this generation are baby Einsteins. Sure, a few of them are. And I played classical music to my little darling, too. U2, The Beatles, Dylan, like that. I sang her a lullaby in Spanish and counted her little toes with her and enrolled her in dance class. You do those things. And certainly, children are born with unique gifts, aptitudes and talents. Which are superfantastic and should be nurtured. But come on. The fact that I happen to think my child is the cat's meow (a sound she could replicate in 13 languages, including Latin by the time she was 6 months old) doesn't mean she's gifted. She's my gift. There's a difference.
So when we were teaching her Hegel's Dialectic and "Don't Cry for Me Argentina", it was mostly because it was fun. Like having a pet monkey. The fact that she still remembers that stuff and that she now actually understands what the Dialectic is all about doesn't mean she's going to invent a perpetual motion machine before she graduates 8th grade. It just means that little baby brains are sponges and they can soak up a lot of groovy stuff.
Speaking of Andrew Lloyd Webber, "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" really was her favorite song when she was wee. Only she thought it was about her. She sang, "Don't Cry for Me, Boofacina", which was her nickname. It was pretty adorable.
Labels: gifted children, I like saying "Euclidean", musical theatah, Pythagorean theorem
cobbled together by Moi at 10:29 AM
15 Comments:
Once again...you lost me at Hegel's dialecic....I remember a nursing supervisor boasting about how smart his 9 month old was...I swear to my mother...he said his kid could understand the bible quotes he read to the baby. My youngest loved Motorcycle Mama by Neil Young...but he was 11.
dialectic...see
I do believe that I am going to forward this post to every parent in Manhattan...
It's easy, Rosie. An idea, (thesis) gives rise to its raction, or an antithesis, which contradicts or negates the thesis. The resulting tension between the two is resolved by means of a synthesis.
Plus, it's fun to say.
Oh, Dana. I think that's a recipe for chaos.
So, what you're saying is that the thesis gives rise to the antithesis, which in turn --
Hey, look! A shiny thing.
"Reaction". I spelled it wrong. Silly rabbit. And yes, I think you grasp the concept very...oooh, that is shiny...
What? You didn't continue on to Heidegger's concept of. . .
Ooo! Steel Magnolias is on!
Isn't that why they invented calculators? And accountants?
If the Child is gifted, she comes by it naturally. I'm just sayin' ...
Heidig.....whoa, did you say "Steel Magnolias"? Cool, and when we're finished with that I have "Mystic Pizza".
Ah, Kendall, I recognize that glazed look.
Aw, shucks, Red. I can't say "meow" in 13 languages. I did teach her to make a white sauce last night, though.
I'd happily settle for being able to make a decent whit sauce..
Or properly spell "white" for that matter..
"Whit sauce" is for Pentecost (Whitsuntide). "White sauce" is for everything else. "Wit sauce" is what you serve up daily, my friend.
I knew the Bear was above-average intelligence when he started telling me, "I love you, Poop."
Despite the fact that he has called me Momma since he was 6 months old.
MIT, here he comes!
-jLow
You must be so proud, Poop.
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