Seeing genius in my child

Read to the end for the big reveal on when I will contact Harvard on their behalf

Photo by Ryan Fields on Unsplash

My first child is about ten months old and they are brilliant. They spoke their first word at 7 months, and by 9 months they knew multiple words. The average child tends to begin speaking only around 12 months, and it is not until about 18 months that they are able to begin combining words into simple sentences. I expect my child will get there by 12 months. Did I say they were brilliant?

Their physical development is going pretty well too, although I’m a bit concerned that they are not as ahead in this area as they are cognitively. They began standing at 9 months and walking at 10 months. That is on the early end of typical development, but I worry that they may not be on track to be a recruited athlete at Stanford, much less for an Olympic medal. Being a recruited athlete is a huge hook that juices an applicant’s chances of admission at very selective colleges. 

I take comfort in the fact that they are probably going to be good enough to be recruited at lesser athletically stellar schools such as Harvard and Yale.

So the question I have is how do I maximize their development between now and Harvard or Stanford? (And no, I will not prevent them from going to MIT, Yale, Princeton, or Caltech if they are adamant about going against the grain.) 

Don’t get me wrong, I am not one of those completely out of touch parents who believe that the measure of success is what college their child attends. No, my child will attend Harvard or Stanford (or another top school of their choosing) as preparation for a Rhodes Scholarship, and maybe Yale Law, which will help them on their path to future dominance in industry (or government).  

It is hard not to imagine all these exciting futures for my child—futures in which they will climb the ladder of success, hopefully not stepping on too many people to get there—when I see my child hitting developmental milestones early. I, like most parents, want only the best for my children, which just so happens will also allow me to live vicariously through them as I coast into the twilight of my years with my sails full of pride. 

So now, about ten months into their life journey, I am going to double down on doing everything right to ensure their success. As a stay-at-home dad I get to schedule their day for maximal learning, development, and growth. 

Currently they are taking a nap. Naps are vital for a developing brain and body. Earlier in the day they ate only natural, whole foods (bananas, raspberries) because food is the fuel that gives them the energy to be the best.

When they wake up I will read them five to ten picture books to help whet their appetite for becoming a voracious reader, because learning to read is a most important milestone and I cannot allow it to extend beyond three years of age. If they get fidgety we will take a break to work on some agility and balance exercises. It is hard to decide what will matter most in the classroom versus what will matter most on the athletic field, but I must not let my child slide on either, because being the best means being second to none. Second place is the first loser.

Fortunately for my child, I am homeschooling them. This allows me to be much more responsive to the developmental needs of my child, so if they want to play, we can play. If they don’t like a book I am reading to them, we can put it down and do something else. If they don’t want to do agility drills they can play peekaboo with me by squatting down behind the wall of their playpen.

If you have not caught on yet, most of this essay is satire directed at the approach that too many of us eager parents take when it comes to viewing our children, their childhood, and their future. None of what I’ve written is my reality other than the milestones mentioned in the first two paragraphs (which I am joyful about but which I do not believe will determine their fate) and the previous paragraph about homeschooling (unschooling, technically).

I recently read through my notes of Four Thousand Weeks by

Oliver Burkeman

, and in it he questions if childhood should be treated as though it is merely training for adulthood. Instead, he argues, and I agree, that childhood is not just about the future adult that child will become—childhood is life in the present moment to the child. And that moment or experience is precious and valuable in its own right.

When our children are born, even for all the parents who are dreaming about what their children will become, the primary focus is on our children surviving. When they are born they are fragile and helpless. About one in 185 children born in the United States do not make it to their first birthday, which is more than twice the mortality rate of Japan, Singapore, and Nordic countries. Those are terrible odds. 

When the fragility of the life of the child is obvious, particular when a child is born prematurely or with complications, the potential accomplishments of the child tend to fade into the background of our internal ranking of what is really important. 

In Four Thousand Weeks, Burkman highlights the words that playwright Tom Stoppard attributes to philosopher Alexander Herzen in his play The Coast of Utopia, as Herzen wrestles with the death of his son: 

Because children grow up, we think a child’s purpose is to grow up. But a child’s purpose is to be a child. Nature doesn’t disdain what only lives for a day. It pours the whole of itself into each moment … Life’s bounty is in its flow. Later is too late.

We parents are so often so focused on what is to become of our children that we turn their childhood into a project for our own vanity. We see in them genius only in comparison to other kids, not as the natural state of being of all children (as each person has a unique genius that can be cultivated or destroyed). 

So I won’t be contacting Harvard (which would not even help my child’s admissions prospects unless I was contacting them to donate ten million dollars or so). I am not going to force them through any form of academic or athletic training. I’m just going to sit back, observe, be responsive to their needs, and support them in their interests. I will try to help them find the joy in learning and growing for how it improves their and other people’s experiences today, and how it may help them in their self-determined goals for the future. And I will most certainly try to divorce them from valuing their life only in terms of future rewards, or in comparison to the outcomes of others. 

I’ll even support them if they don’t want to go to college.

---

Recent podcast:

How might we redefine what it means to be “smart” or “intelligent”?

Click on the the above homeroom podcast episode that I recently participated in.

homeroom is an international podcast bridging the education gap between the classroom and the living room by starting conversations impacting the next generation.

In this episode, I speak with Antonio—a former teacher, self-directed learning center founder, and current dad—about his experience moving through the education system as someone who’s considered intelligent. We talk about the evolution behind his definition of intelligence, and what his turning point was before establishing a school of his own. We share a bit about our thoughts on youth autonomy, and how society might need to change to make student-centered education a reality.