Someone at the office let the results of the stupid IQ test I took in college slip. I make no secret of my hatred (yes, real hatred. Not dislike, not displeasure, not anger, true hatred) of the word “gifted child” (it was the bane of my existence as a kid), or my contempt for IQ tests (which are really nothing but a measure of how good someone’s rote learning skills are).
Anyone repeat that phrase in my presence again (or the German equivalent which is “hochbegabt”, yes, I can learn dammit!) and I’ll scream. For real. Loudly.
And then I’ll launch into a tirade on how normal everybody who’s been “diagnosed” (like we’re actually ill) with “being gifted” is. Over the office intercom system.
You brought it unto yourselves, people!