So I'm a genius. Big Fat Hairy Deal.
One aspect of myself that I'm particularly fond of is my keen intellect. I don't need those Facebook quizzes to tell me I'm a genius. I already know that I am. But this is something I rarely ever talk about. Why? Because when I do, it sounds like I'm bragging or boasting, as if this attribute makes me better than anyone else. It doesn't. I'm better at some things than other people, and they're better at other things that I am.
How is it determined or measured? Psychologists have developed the concept of "intelligence quotient". It's basically a ratio of a person's "mental age" to their chronological age. The average "score" is 100, and tails off at both ends in a frequency distribution known as "the bell curve". But does the test gauge a person's knowledge base, or does it test how people apply knowledge in certain situations? That I'm not so clear on. But the IQ test is the best thing we have right now to measure and quantize this attribute.
In my opinion, "genius" is overrated. So I scored high enough on an IQ test to be in the 98th or 99th percentiles -- the top 2%. Big whoop. So I'm a genius. Big fat hairy deal. That and a dollar can get me a cup of coffee. Two bucks if I go to Starbucks.
I grew up as a gifted kid. I was the darling of the principal and assistant principal, but the school secretary was indifferent to me. But I also had ADHD, which made me a challenge. In first grade, I was put into a special ed class because they didn't know what else to do with me. One of the students from one of the second grade classes came by to escort me to their class for reading. After ten weeks, someone decided that I could spend the rest of the year in second grade. (Except for the day the class took a field trip to a factory. I was going to the bathroom too frequently to go on the trip.) I think I spent half of the third grade in the corner, becuase my very authoritarian teacher, Mrs. Schraufstetter, didn't know how else to handle me. It wasn't until 7th grade -- junior high -- that I was exposed to advanced-level classes, and other gifted kids. But they didn't care for me. I stayed in advanced-level classes throughout junior high and high school. And I graduated from high school, one month shy of my 17th birthday.
College was a different world. I was able to go at my own pace, and wasn't held back by lesson plans. In 1987, the local chapter of Mensa offered their admissions test. Mensa is the oldest of the high-IQ societies, limited to the top 2%. Originally, it was to be like a think-tank, but it soon evolved into a social organization, or as some of us jokingly referred to it, "a support group for the severely gifted". I did some research and found that I could get in based on my SAT score. (This was years before the SAT test got watered down.) So I ponied up the money and took the test anyway. And I passed. I was offered membership, but declined at the time.
In 1993, I was working with a young woman who had mentioned Mensa, and invited me to the local group's RG (Regional Gathering), DAMNations. I got to meet some people, and I joined soon after. There were some great activities over the years -- the monthly newsletter assembly party, the open houses (I remember meeting someone who worked on the original "Cosmos" series, and I got to hold her Emmy award), the First Friday pizza dinners at Marion's, the Wednesday lunches at Tuty's, and the Final Friday Fermentation Foray (dinner at a local brew pub). I was even the coordinator of the national-level special interest group for Babylon 5. And I was a member of the volunteer security group, the Hell's M's.
But when I started bringing Rebecca (my girlfriend/fiancee/wife) along, she wasn't happy at all. She wasn't a member, and I'm not sure if she would have qualified, and if she did, if she would want to join. She resented having to participate in a party to make 10,000 buckeye candies for the 1998 AG (Annual Gathering) in Cincinnati. She couldn't stand some of the people there. And when our daughter was born in 2002, there were no activities for parents with young children. I ended up letting my membership lapse in 2003.
One of the long-time members, whom I'm Facebook-friends with, asked me to come back to the club. I said "Thanks but no thanks. Club friends aren't real friends". There were some members who just rubbed me the wrong way. A few came across as know-it-alls, a few dominated the group conversations, and a few were sarcastic to the point of being hurtful. A good majority would not do anything with me outside of the parameters of the club. And I got the impression that a couple of the folks just couldn't stand me.
I know several people who are intelligent enough to qualify for membership. So why don't they join? I've heard responses such as "I don't need to join and prove to the world how intelligent I am", or "Too many personalities". Some people probably equate "Mensan" with "asocial loser" (based on their experience with gifted people), and stay away.
There are other high-IQ societies out there, with different membership criteria: Intertel (top 1%), the Triple Nine Society (top 0.1%), the Prometheus Society, the Mega Society, and so on. But I haven't been interested in pursuing membership with these organizations.
Based on my observations, I have my own definition of "intellectual": A person whose head-voice speaks so loudly and strongly that it drowns out their heart-voice and gut-voice. It can also be described as "Mensans from the neck up". That isn't what I want for myself. Since doing the NWTA in the fall of 1997, my want for myself is for my heart-voice to be be as strong and powerful as my head-voice, and for them to balance each other out.
But I still want to use this gift of intellect to make this world a better place to live. That's what I've always thought my purpose on Earth was -- to make this a better place then it was when I arrived.
How is it determined or measured? Psychologists have developed the concept of "intelligence quotient". It's basically a ratio of a person's "mental age" to their chronological age. The average "score" is 100, and tails off at both ends in a frequency distribution known as "the bell curve". But does the test gauge a person's knowledge base, or does it test how people apply knowledge in certain situations? That I'm not so clear on. But the IQ test is the best thing we have right now to measure and quantize this attribute.
In my opinion, "genius" is overrated. So I scored high enough on an IQ test to be in the 98th or 99th percentiles -- the top 2%. Big whoop. So I'm a genius. Big fat hairy deal. That and a dollar can get me a cup of coffee. Two bucks if I go to Starbucks.
I grew up as a gifted kid. I was the darling of the principal and assistant principal, but the school secretary was indifferent to me. But I also had ADHD, which made me a challenge. In first grade, I was put into a special ed class because they didn't know what else to do with me. One of the students from one of the second grade classes came by to escort me to their class for reading. After ten weeks, someone decided that I could spend the rest of the year in second grade. (Except for the day the class took a field trip to a factory. I was going to the bathroom too frequently to go on the trip.) I think I spent half of the third grade in the corner, becuase my very authoritarian teacher, Mrs. Schraufstetter, didn't know how else to handle me. It wasn't until 7th grade -- junior high -- that I was exposed to advanced-level classes, and other gifted kids. But they didn't care for me. I stayed in advanced-level classes throughout junior high and high school. And I graduated from high school, one month shy of my 17th birthday.
College was a different world. I was able to go at my own pace, and wasn't held back by lesson plans. In 1987, the local chapter of Mensa offered their admissions test. Mensa is the oldest of the high-IQ societies, limited to the top 2%. Originally, it was to be like a think-tank, but it soon evolved into a social organization, or as some of us jokingly referred to it, "a support group for the severely gifted". I did some research and found that I could get in based on my SAT score. (This was years before the SAT test got watered down.) So I ponied up the money and took the test anyway. And I passed. I was offered membership, but declined at the time.
In 1993, I was working with a young woman who had mentioned Mensa, and invited me to the local group's RG (Regional Gathering), DAMNations. I got to meet some people, and I joined soon after. There were some great activities over the years -- the monthly newsletter assembly party, the open houses (I remember meeting someone who worked on the original "Cosmos" series, and I got to hold her Emmy award), the First Friday pizza dinners at Marion's, the Wednesday lunches at Tuty's, and the Final Friday Fermentation Foray (dinner at a local brew pub). I was even the coordinator of the national-level special interest group for Babylon 5. And I was a member of the volunteer security group, the Hell's M's.
But when I started bringing Rebecca (my girlfriend/fiancee/wife) along, she wasn't happy at all. She wasn't a member, and I'm not sure if she would have qualified, and if she did, if she would want to join. She resented having to participate in a party to make 10,000 buckeye candies for the 1998 AG (Annual Gathering) in Cincinnati. She couldn't stand some of the people there. And when our daughter was born in 2002, there were no activities for parents with young children. I ended up letting my membership lapse in 2003.
One of the long-time members, whom I'm Facebook-friends with, asked me to come back to the club. I said "Thanks but no thanks. Club friends aren't real friends". There were some members who just rubbed me the wrong way. A few came across as know-it-alls, a few dominated the group conversations, and a few were sarcastic to the point of being hurtful. A good majority would not do anything with me outside of the parameters of the club. And I got the impression that a couple of the folks just couldn't stand me.
I know several people who are intelligent enough to qualify for membership. So why don't they join? I've heard responses such as "I don't need to join and prove to the world how intelligent I am", or "Too many personalities". Some people probably equate "Mensan" with "asocial loser" (based on their experience with gifted people), and stay away.
There are other high-IQ societies out there, with different membership criteria: Intertel (top 1%), the Triple Nine Society (top 0.1%), the Prometheus Society, the Mega Society, and so on. But I haven't been interested in pursuing membership with these organizations.
Based on my observations, I have my own definition of "intellectual": A person whose head-voice speaks so loudly and strongly that it drowns out their heart-voice and gut-voice. It can also be described as "Mensans from the neck up". That isn't what I want for myself. Since doing the NWTA in the fall of 1997, my want for myself is for my heart-voice to be be as strong and powerful as my head-voice, and for them to balance each other out.
But I still want to use this gift of intellect to make this world a better place to live. That's what I've always thought my purpose on Earth was -- to make this a better place then it was when I arrived.