a last note from your narrator

'gifted'

intelligence is quantified.

from the moment you can speak, or even before,
you are measured.
'at this age your child should be able to do the following:'
read the pamphlets.

the school sends home a letter:
'your child has tested gifted in the following areas:'
another child gets a letter because they can't pronounce the right things.
they're just as smart as me,
but i can say the words i know.
(i can say 'r' and 'th' correctly. what a talent.)
maybe i can't say 'specific' but at six i can say 'antidisestablishmentarianism.'
(you really just have to sound it out.)

in the second grade my teacher calls my mom about my test results.
she wants to make sure we understand what it means.
'this is the top third percentile,' she says,
'that's out of the entire nation.'
this, i've been told, is very good.
i am seven years old and rather unimpressed.

i am fourteen years old when the school sends home a letter.
i don't know how many letters we've gotten about this by now,
it seems like a lot.
this time the letter tells me i'm in the top fifth percentile.
my grades are slipping, but apparently this is irrelevant.
i'll be receiving 'gifted education', the letter says.
it does not say what that entails.
i don't think i really want it, but i take it.

i am fourteen years old and i am tired of being measured.
i am tired of being the smart one.
i've never gotten a chance to be anyone else.
i don't think i know how.
but i am a person beyond the boundaries of my intelligence.
who knew?

sometimes it feels like they're suffocating me,
the standards and the expectations that come with it.
i have panic attacks over my grades now.
it's normal.

i am now fourteen years old
and already tired of my own mind.