The Gifted School

Back in August, on the morning of my first day of teaching at a gifted school, I carved out 10-15 minutes in my classroom to grab a cup of coffee and read the first chapter of Bruce Holsinger’s 450-page novel, The Gifted School. And for about two weeks, I managed to sustain this pattern, reading a chapter or two a day, either in the morning or the afternoon. However…

For anyone who teaches, and concedes the improbability of actually maintaining those free 10-15 minute windows for something “other than” teaching, or planning, or grading, or responding to emails, or filling out forms, or cleaning up, or going to meetings, or hosting meetings, or any of a myriad of responsibilities, you got it right. At some point, after the first couple of weeks, I had to start bringing the book home and reading it as time permitted, in chunks, catching up for the day or two or five that I fell behind because of other more pressing tasks.

But now, having finished on a quiet Saturday morning, I must give credit to Holsinger for this beautifully crafted tale, with layers and layers of backstory that make each character its own element of complexity, and honesty. The Gifted School is darkly comic fiction, the tale of parents, and their children, and their desire, or delayed lack of desire to be labeled, and categorized, and viewed, as something other than the status where each of us fall… that being human, and attentive, and caring, and forgiving, and thoughtful, and civil, are sufficient ends to a truly gifted community. And that sincerely unique talents, when they spring up in children, ought to be recognized as such, regardless of malleable titles and shifting labels that classify one person as greater or lesser than another.