Child Brainbox
The trouble with the children who take part in a television programme called Child Genius is their parents. For, of course, it was the parents who got them into it in the first place.
It's a series of programmes following the progress of children with a very high IQ. Apparently "genius" is used to describe anyone with an IQ of over 140: but I think that's a bit of a loose definition. I'd just describe that as "jolly clever". To me, a genius is someone who gives something very new and different to humanity: a da Vinci or a Shakespeare or an Einstein, and I don't think there are many of them.
In this programme, therefore, we had Brainboxes and their Parents.
We had Peter, home-schooled, concentrating on chess because his parents thought he was good enough to be world champion. Sadly, a tournament abroad brought him swiftly down to earth - he came sixty-seventh out of ninety-one and hence was left with not much in life. Fortunately his parents did seem to realise, after that, that there could be more to life than chess and he actually met some other kids to play with.
We had Adam, whose high IQ got him a scholarship to a prep school: a feeder school for Eton and the like. The scholarship meant that the fees dropped from £9,500 to £4000 per year but his dad was an investment banker and I got the impression that the family weren't that broke. By the end of the programme the parents had discovered, apparently rather by chance, that his younger brother Sam, who until then had been free to run about and play and not go off to posh boarding school, also had an IQ of 137, so his status as The Thick One was only really relative.
Then there was Mikhail, who at age five had become the youngest member of Mensa. At that age he was interested in maths, but - horrors! - his verbal skills were found to be below his maths skills - so shortly afterwards he found himself taking part in a charity Spellathon to improve them and show him off as The Youngest Member of Mensa.
Finally, in this programme, we had Georgia Brown age three. Youngest child in the family, IQ of 152, mother mad as only a Bonkers Pushy Mother can be.
"Look at this photograph of Georgia! Can you see the aura of white light around her?"
I didn't like Pushy Chess Father. I didn't like Investment Banker and His Young Wife's decision. They split up their two sons by sending The Brainy One to boarding school - always, always a bad idea in my book, even when done with the best of intentions - and keeping The Thick One at home.
I didn't like the parents who thought that putting their son in to be a member of Mensa at age five was a good idea. And I particularly didn't like the way that Bonkers Mother spoke to poor brainbox Georgia "And why have you become a member of Mensa, Georgia?" "Because I'm being clever."
Okay, I admit to a bit of a Chip on Shoulder issue here, because I too had Brainbox Child, - not Genius Child - but then I don't think any of the children in this programme was Genius Child either. We went down a different route, and I'm not sure all of it was right.
When Emily got full marks in all her SATS tests at age seven - and she was the youngest in the school year as well - the Sats Inspector Man wanted her to try the SATS tests that the eleven-year-olds usually do. And the school said no: what was the point, they said, of sitting her in a room on her own to try to prove that she was clever, when we already know it?
And I always thought that was the right decision.
For her secondary education, we looked at the Private Girls' Grammar School but thought she'd feel like a fish out of water with all the Posh Girls and their Posh Parents and she says now that she's so glad we didn't send her there: most, though not all, of her friends are boys anyway and she thinks girls' schools are all fashion and Botox.
Emily went to an ordinary comprehensive school - though one with a good reputation, some of which was well-deserved and some of which wasn't.
She did brilliantly academically, made some really good friends, and was bullied throughout by a group of yobs who didn't like the fact that she wasn't like them and really didn't want to be. In general, she had a horrible time, and is so very much happier now that she's at university.
So what would have helped? I wouldn't have kept her at home - she's quite shy and reserved anyway and I think would have had real problems later on. But the school that she went to was too big.
A small, mixed grammar school would have been perfect for her - and yet I know that, for many, that old system of grammar schools and secondary moderns didn't work either.
I don't know what the answer is: but I don't think putting your clever child in a television programme like Child Genius would help them in any way.
And yet, of course, I watched it with fascination. So perhaps I'm as guilty as those parents are.
It's a series of programmes following the progress of children with a very high IQ. Apparently "genius" is used to describe anyone with an IQ of over 140: but I think that's a bit of a loose definition. I'd just describe that as "jolly clever". To me, a genius is someone who gives something very new and different to humanity: a da Vinci or a Shakespeare or an Einstein, and I don't think there are many of them.
In this programme, therefore, we had Brainboxes and their Parents.
We had Peter, home-schooled, concentrating on chess because his parents thought he was good enough to be world champion. Sadly, a tournament abroad brought him swiftly down to earth - he came sixty-seventh out of ninety-one and hence was left with not much in life. Fortunately his parents did seem to realise, after that, that there could be more to life than chess and he actually met some other kids to play with.
We had Adam, whose high IQ got him a scholarship to a prep school: a feeder school for Eton and the like. The scholarship meant that the fees dropped from £9,500 to £4000 per year but his dad was an investment banker and I got the impression that the family weren't that broke. By the end of the programme the parents had discovered, apparently rather by chance, that his younger brother Sam, who until then had been free to run about and play and not go off to posh boarding school, also had an IQ of 137, so his status as The Thick One was only really relative.
Then there was Mikhail, who at age five had become the youngest member of Mensa. At that age he was interested in maths, but - horrors! - his verbal skills were found to be below his maths skills - so shortly afterwards he found himself taking part in a charity Spellathon to improve them and show him off as The Youngest Member of Mensa.
Finally, in this programme, we had Georgia Brown age three. Youngest child in the family, IQ of 152, mother mad as only a Bonkers Pushy Mother can be.
"Look at this photograph of Georgia! Can you see the aura of white light around her?"
I didn't like Pushy Chess Father. I didn't like Investment Banker and His Young Wife's decision. They split up their two sons by sending The Brainy One to boarding school - always, always a bad idea in my book, even when done with the best of intentions - and keeping The Thick One at home.
I didn't like the parents who thought that putting their son in to be a member of Mensa at age five was a good idea. And I particularly didn't like the way that Bonkers Mother spoke to poor brainbox Georgia "And why have you become a member of Mensa, Georgia?" "Because I'm being clever."
Okay, I admit to a bit of a Chip on Shoulder issue here, because I too had Brainbox Child, - not Genius Child - but then I don't think any of the children in this programme was Genius Child either. We went down a different route, and I'm not sure all of it was right.
When Emily got full marks in all her SATS tests at age seven - and she was the youngest in the school year as well - the Sats Inspector Man wanted her to try the SATS tests that the eleven-year-olds usually do. And the school said no: what was the point, they said, of sitting her in a room on her own to try to prove that she was clever, when we already know it?
And I always thought that was the right decision.
For her secondary education, we looked at the Private Girls' Grammar School but thought she'd feel like a fish out of water with all the Posh Girls and their Posh Parents and she says now that she's so glad we didn't send her there: most, though not all, of her friends are boys anyway and she thinks girls' schools are all fashion and Botox.
Emily went to an ordinary comprehensive school - though one with a good reputation, some of which was well-deserved and some of which wasn't.
She did brilliantly academically, made some really good friends, and was bullied throughout by a group of yobs who didn't like the fact that she wasn't like them and really didn't want to be. In general, she had a horrible time, and is so very much happier now that she's at university.
So what would have helped? I wouldn't have kept her at home - she's quite shy and reserved anyway and I think would have had real problems later on. But the school that she went to was too big.
A small, mixed grammar school would have been perfect for her - and yet I know that, for many, that old system of grammar schools and secondary moderns didn't work either.
I don't know what the answer is: but I don't think putting your clever child in a television programme like Child Genius would help them in any way.
And yet, of course, I watched it with fascination. So perhaps I'm as guilty as those parents are.
posted by Daphne at 12:37 pm
1 Comments:
I'm quite fond of telling people that Mozart was a genius and I'm not, but I expect he wasn't as clever as I am ;-)
I have been avoiding these programmes because I know I will start to feel hard-done-by *despite* knowing that it would have been Very Bad For Me!
Julie paradox
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