The parents were not allowed to stay there for the exam, but according to Petunia, everything went very well. There were 100 kids separated into groups of ten. One test consisted of "spot the difference" questions, like on Sesame Street. The following test for listening comprehension had the teacher ask the students questions about the story they were just told. They did puzzles and other activities. The whole thing lasted two and a half hours, with several breaks. This is all third hand information, though, with the first hand being from a five-year-old girl. The results will be in at the end of March, although I don't know why it takes so long. The father will continue to do reading exercises with Petunia regardless of the outcome.

Both Rose and I believe that Petunia has a good chance of making it, even if only one in five kids gets into the program. I just hope that she doesn't become one of those insufferable parents of "gifted" children. Somehow I seriously doubt it would happen for very long after the exhilaration of the good news hits, if it hits.

I am a little jealous. I really believe that I would be a different person today if I had such opportunities when I was young. I skipped a grade; I think I could have been considered "gifted", if only mildly so. Teachers do love to slap those labels on kids, and I would not have minded being labelled as such then. I didn't have a cool house or cool toys; I never got the girl, but at least I had the marks. I loved school when I was a kid, not just because I got to learn things, but because it was so damn simple. I mean, REALLY simple. Most kids took a whole year to get two-thirds of the way through their book of phonics exercises, I did the whole book and half of the next book. I misspelled about two words a year in spelling class. And math? I still can't figure out how 5 + 8 is hard, and I have little patience for those that do.

School was so easy that I figured that all I have to do is coast along and everything I could ever want would fall into my lap. Life must be this easy. People that are poor or have otherwise difficult lives are incredibly unlucky (they get very ill, for example) or they just don't care. But, of course, life isn't that simple. It's part of the Big Lie, but that's another entry.

I was never challenged. I don't want to blame any of life's difficulties on other people. I take responsibility, and, privately at least, I always have. But imagine what could happen if I lived in a place where they cared about the problems that smart kids might face. You know where all, and I mean ALL, the money went? It was to help the slow kids. Sorry, I meant fucking SPECIAL kids.

I never had a problem with these kids. I knew that they needed help, and I was glad that they were getting it. Except for one. Freddie. This kid was ugly and stank all the time. He couldn't come up with a single intelligent thing to say. Half the time he was picking his nose, his ass, or making stupid sounds. He wasn't retarded, per se, just really stupid. (Please don't ask me to tell you the difference. I'm not sure there is one, but I feel as though I should make the distinction.) I hated this kid. He used to waste so much of everyone's time. He was the only kid I wished would die of stupidity. I truly wished him gone for good. Not just transferred; some other students would have to deal with him. I wanted him permanently gone. He should either die, or move back to the forest where he came from.

Anytime we had some project to do, everyone had to work their asses off, and the teachers were not lenient in marking. Except with Freddie, naturally. Freddie would essentially have the teacher do some half-assed project (Freddie would write some of it, as directed by the teacher) and present it in a quarter-assed way. I felt oppressed, having to sit there and listen to this, and know that he was going to get at least as good a mark as I would. A for effort, an effort that he probably didn't even make. He was so slow I wonder if he even knew what was going on.

(Don't get me wrong, slow kids need help and special attention. But please, don't stop there. There are some really bright kids that needs some material appropriate for them, too. And a greater number of average kids that need something out there to stimulate them.)

A for effort. That kills me. My sister was a jock. She was a good student, but an excellent athlete. She still has records from high school that haven't been broken. She was a starter in her team sports and placed in the top three in all track and field events. She took Grade 11 Phys. Ed. To receive anything greater than an 85 in that course was practically impossible, and they let everyone know this right up front. This wasn't a course to boost your average if you were a good student. Only the very best students and athletes (ones who did the work very well, showed an effort and actually produced results) were supposed to get an 85. My sister got a 77. Another girl got an 80, another an 81 that whole year. They were also excellent athletes and students.

Christine was not. She was clumsy, couldn't catch, couldn't run, and had little court or field awareness. She was very smart, however, and got 90s in all other courses. But the fact was, she couldn't cut it in this course. She had no business being there. Yet she got an 86 in the course, the highest mark for that course in about six or seven years. Why? Because she made a good effort. Yes, she had a lot of heart and she tried. And here I thought that school was supposed to have something to do with the real world. I'm (still) in sales. If I "try real hard" to sell but fail, do you think that my company is going to say, "Hey, that's fine. We saw your intensity and drive. Your effort. We don't care about 'results'. You just keep plugging away, and we'll ignore the fact that you are costing the company more money than you are bringing in."

Or maybe it was a real life scenario. Christine was very well liked by the school for her results in other classes. If this class would bring down her average, that wouldn't be good because damn it, she deserves have a high average; she's Christine. Management, I mean, the staff liked her, so they bent the rules significantly to allow her to appear to be much better than she was. It's not like it doesn't happen in real life. George Bush and Paul Martin are heads of state, for Christ's sake.

I got a little off topic there. Anyway, let's hope that Petunia gets into the class, and that it's because she actually deserves to be there, and that this is not a double-edged sword.