The Downside of Perfectionism: Perfectionist Parents and Their Gifted Children

Lest my previous posting, In Praise of Gifted Perfectionism, left some of you with the impression that perfectionism is a one-dimensional, always positive force in the lives of gifted children, let me set that straight. Perfectionism can make life more challenging for gifted children, but when the child has to deal with the pressures of a perfectionist parent, that challenge can be debilitating and hurt this important parent/child relationship.

As I mentioned in the posting In Praise of Gifted Perfectionism, a gifted child might have to deal with both intrinsic perfectionism (an organic or self-sustaining need) or extrinsic perfectionism (pressure from outside the child – created by parents, educators, culture, peers, etc.). I’d like to focus on the extrinsic perfectionism sometimes put on gifted children by a perfectionistic parent. I remember a particular instance in which a 5th grade boy’s parents came in to see me about his progress in my math class. “Tony” was a gifted boy who reminded me a lot of my brother who had committed suicide the previous year. Both of them were bright, sensitive, and intense, and both were athletes. Like my brother, Tony loved baseball.

His father was concerned that Tony didn’t have a strong enough work ethic. He wasn’t interested in “extra credit” assignments, and his work showed careless errors. He brought in one of Tony’s math tests on which he had scored an 89 percent. As Tony, his parents, and I sat around the table, his dad pointed out all the little mistakes Tony had made on the test. I tried to show Tony’s dad that Tony demonstrated a strong understanding of difficult concepts and that the little errors he had made were common for gifted kids.

I could see that this already sensitive and intense young man was feeling uncomfortable with the conversation, so asked him to go play on the playground while I talked with his parents. I have never been one to challenge parents in front of their child, but I knew that Tony needed me to step in as his advocate. Still hurting from the suicide of my brother, I told Tony’s father that Tony needed to develop a positive identity more than he needed 100% test scores. If Tony continued to see his worth as being measured by his father’s own perfection, he would have a hard time developing a positive identity and a willingness to take on more difficult challenges. Tony’s family moved to another state, and I received an email the following year telling me about Tony’s academic progress. I was actually hoping to hear about his dad’s progress in reining in his own perfectionism.

If there is any suggestion I can give parents of gifted children, I would say to make sure you don’t foist your own perfectionism on your children. Your children deserve to grow into their own perfectionism, their own passions, their own strengths. There is a fine line between guiding our child’s development and controlling it. If you find that your “guidance” is being rejected by your child, if you find your “guidance” is creating greater sensitivity and intensity in your child, counseling for the PARENT of a gifted child is always a good place to receive objective advice.

For more information on perfectionism and gifted children, see the Hoagies Gifted Education Page on perfectionism.

The Power of Music for the Sensitive Soul

Have you ever heard the lyrics to a song that touched you in a profound way? It happened often to me as a teenager, but, in May 1998, a song by Sarah McLachlan shook me to my core. My brother had committed suicide at the end of April, and I was particularly emotionally sensitive. McLachlan’s song came on the radio, and I felt as though she had put my brother’s struggle into the lyrics of her song, “Angel.” My brother had been found in a hotel room by a maid, and even that aspect of the end of his life was found in her words.

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there.

Two years ago, I was doing a presentation in Arizona for parents of gifted children, and I told them about my brother’s death so that they would be sure to show their love for their bright, sensitive and intense children. I left the auditorium wondering if I should have shared this personal information. As my husband started the engine of our rental car, McLachlan’s song sang out from the radio. I didn’t have to be a highly sensitive person to feel the synchronicity and the power of those words. I felt as though I was in the arms of an angel!

So what got me thinking about songs that move me? This morning I was watching a Sunday morning television show, and they were featuring Alanis Morissette. She explained that, at age three, she began singing into a nail polish bottle as her microphone. She said she is grateful her parents paid attention to her passion, and that made me think about my previous posting about the strengths revolution. Parents and teachers need to be focusing on the strengths and passions of our children. Morissette said that if we really watch three-year-olds, we will be able to see the potential they hold for the future. She is self-described as a sensitive person on her website she says,

I live to HEAL ruptures and bridge the human and the divine aspects of life, and I hope that by sharing my own experiences, I can support people in their personal journeys…

In the last months of my mother’s life, she was in a nursing home due to Alzheimer’s Disease and other health problems. She loved listening to Stevie Wonder and Monica Mancini. Somehow, hearing songs she loved seemed to bring her sparkling eyes back to life, and she would sway with the beat of songs she remembered. The last CD we brought to Mom’s room was by Josh Groban, and the song “You Raise Me Up,” bring tears of joy to my eyes and heart when I hear it, because it tells the story of the support my mother was and will always be…

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.