06/04/2026
Advocating for your gifted/2E/asynchronous/neurodivergent child is a slog. There's no two ways about it. You think you're making progress, and then your child gets in trouble at school... again. You think the school is finally understanding, and then your son with impulse control issues blurts something out to another student, something that was well-meaning and had nothing to do with gender or sexuality, and a teacher talks about him like he's the next Harvey Weinstein. You might ask yourself, "What am I doing wrong? Am I not giving my kid enough fruits and vegetables? Have I somehow transferred my own insecurities onto her? Should I have been more strident with the school? Less strident?" Maybe. But you'll never know. And that's not the point. The point is that it's not hopeless. And you're not helpless.
Here's what you can do. Know your child's profile. Find experts who can explain it to you. Real experts. Specialists. People who can really evaluate what's going on. Become an expert. Explain it to the school. Don't tell them what to do. Educate them. Politely. They might not like it. They might get annoyed with you and they might seem to be taking it out on your child. They mean well, but you're asking a lot. They doubt your sincerity. They tell you that you don't understand. And it doesn't work. And it doesn't work. It doesn't seem like it's working. Who are these so-called experts anyway? All that work. The work doesn't seem to be working, but you are working. And even though it might not seem like it, your child is.
You stay polite, educated, and true to your own values. You keep doing that. You lean on the people who are willing to listen to you. You try to understand the overwhelm and struggles of the educators. And then maybe something changes. Maybe your child studies his butt off for the first time ever. He gets a B on the final. He misses getting a C in the class by .1 of a point. The teacher gives him the D, even though she has been absent much of the semester and has rejected the resources provided in his IEP. Even though you really wanted to help and support her. The unfairness of it wells up in you. And your kid says, "I'm just proud that I worked so hard and did so well." And you know you're winning.
This was a real win. And why are you winning? Was it the interventions? Was it the testing? Was it a good teacher? A helpful adinistrator? Maybe. But something more important is going on. She has been watching YOU: your compassion, your determation, your belief in her, your belief in her teachers even when they don't respond, your belief in yourself. She is learning something from you. That's what makes the difference.
And then maybe you're back to square one the next day. Like maybe your kid is impulsive and careless and accidentally breaks a piece of tech he worked really hard to earn money for and buy. And maybe he doesn't get quite as upset about it as he did last time. Or maybe he does. Maybe your child still cries when she gets an A-. Still, you're doing it. Your kid is doing it. And you're not alone even when you think you are. You are having an impact on your child, on your family, on every system you interact with.
Here's a story from a parent of a gifted child. Sharing with permission.
"This morning I was despondent. I've worked so hard for so long, and it doesn't seem to make a difference. But everyone tells me I have to take care of myself if I'm going to take care of my kid, so I went for my run - short and slow but I kept moving. I got back to my driveway to bring the recycling to the garage. I saw a cute little terrier with a light blue collar. There was no owner to be seen. My neighbor appeared from behind a tree about 50 feet away asking if I knew whose dog it was. I approached the dog to check her name tag to see if there was an address and the dog started running the other way. She started going faster and crossed the street. I stopped trying to keep up with her, and then she took off around the corner. I got around the corner and saw an open garage door. There was a family looking around fervently. They saw their dog sprinting toward them, and started jumping up and down and waving 'thank you' at my neighbor and me. We looked at one another other with relief. My neighbor smiled at me and said (and these were her exact words), 'It took both of us. You were on the right side at the right time.'"
Now, go eat some bon-bons.
Written by Kristin A. Cotts, LPC
