Kat! I used to do that when I taught! Jason laughed at me when I was trying to train Layla, I said "Sit" and when she didn't, said "What did I just say?" out of reflex.

I knew a woman who had started college at 14... and lived in the dorms and dated freakin' grad students. Altogether now "ewwwwwww".

I knew her in her twenties. My impression is that she was pushed plenty.

I was not pushed at all in school. Except when I got good grades I got a "nice job" from my parents. And they were happy when I got on the honor roll because they could save on car insurance.

Sometimes I envy the people who were pushed. I was one of those underachiever folks.

Don't envy the pushed. They might end up knowing more stuff, but they don't end up smarter, or more sensible, or happier as an inevitable result.

Then again, I'm not as cognizant of the whole "right school" thing as I might be. But still -- it doesn't seem to be something worth envying.

Well OK, I don't envy the people who were pushed excessively. But I think I would liked to have been pushed a little.

"What did I just say?" out of reflex.

That's hysterical, Robin.

I had dogs first, so I got good with the Voice of Authority routine with them and it works on kids too.

I try to say, "Oh, right, that's so you can do X." to illustrate the depth and wonder of my understanding (or lack thereof). But I dunno how you work that out to extend to, "Oh, yes, now I understand how to open Pagemaker, thank you O brilliant one without whom I should surely have perished here in my cubicle, alone."

I am Emily, in the two years early and the would have flown into a homicidal rage if I'd had to stay in high school one more minute. Particularly if I'd had to stay knowing I had all my credits a year ago.

For me, I started a year early, then skipped my junior year. I'd miscalculated, because when my family was moving and evaluating schools, I paid attention to the middle school which was marvelous, but not to the high school (which I thought was my sister's realm). Instead, I sat in the principal's office and wrote a play about drug addiction in which the putative drug was some sort of red liquid you could inject. I don't know. I clearly did not have extensive experience in this area.

Sadly, I also therefore did not notice that the high school was not anywhere close to as challenging, dynamic and interesting as the middle school was. So I went, had a great couple of years in middle school, had a phenomenal English teacher in high school and everything else was a total loss. I might as well have been swinging from the rafters.

Leaving was totally the best thing I ever could have done, and I did much better in college where I was challenged and allowed to participate in discourse.

You know, until I met the hot guy and bailed.

All that is to say, it is very sad. Prodigy I was not, but I certainly can understand the alienation and rejection inherent in the situation. I was suicidal for a lot of that time, and I feel lucky to have made it out alive.

The schools I went to would have loved prodigies. You could get teased for shunning human contact for academic pursuits, but even then, only lightly. No one got shunned for taking a gazillion classes, or taking O levels on their own time, or anything.

And dear lord, the teachers would have feted the hell out of you.

tommy -- I think the "excessively" is something you can't tell without it happening -- my parents pushed me what I consider to have been an excessive amount, but, then, they weren't perfect and neither was I. I'd have been bitching about something.

There was that one fun year when I made friends with the local bad boy, the one kicked out of the "city" school for knifing someone, just before my parents managed to warn me about him. Too late! Already buddies!

That was a good year. He was a good friend. Wonder what happened to him.

Well the teachers loved me, but there's a point beyond which it's not fun or helpful. One teacher wanted to have long discussions with me about Joyce, in response to papers I totally blew off by doing stream of consciousness. One let me out of her class entirely after I did a speech with emphasis, which was a shame, because I liked her and probably would have gotten a lot out of her teaching, if not out of her class. But I was fundamentally lazy, and given the choice to futz around in the guidance counselor's office, writing, and sitting in a regular class, guess what I was going to choose.

It wasn't that bad. There were popular smart kids. I even managed to make it to the popular table, where I discovered that the conversation was inane, and to a popular party, where I discovered that the parties were inane, and then I sank rather deliberately to the dregs of society where I had friends who were stimulating and didn't mind my own inane tendencies.

(This is the part where someone comes in and tells me that I'm being dismissive and condescending, and that my jealousy over lacking status is souring my perspective on life. But it's only partially true, and really, I ended up very happy.)