An older colleague at work asked me to meet his daughter. Now this always ALWAYS thrills me. Meeting people’s kids, I mean. And weirdly I get this request from older colleagues more often than I’d like to admit. I think for me it’s the nicest honour and to be honest, the best compliment anyone can give. “You should meet my kid!” in my mind is really code for “I think you’re pretty cool and I’m going to give you access to my most treasured possession.” Think about it, it’s nicer than being shown their crown jewels. Actual jewels I mean o!  Most parents I know are so protective of their kids and so conscious of the potential for negative influence, that it’s quite sweet for any actual adult (because I still struggle to see myself as an adult most days), to speak to you and after a chat say, “You should speak to my child!” It’s the ultimate stamp of approval in my book.

Lol I know, I know, I’m easy.

This invite was particularly nice because for one thing, it came from one my favourite older colleagues, Mr.  Ray who is the curator of our TEDx. The other thing is,  I CONSTANTLY harass Mr. Ray. In fact, I realized that as TEDx Production Manager (fancy title for Resident Slave really 🙂 ), my real role is simply to determine how quickly I can drive Mr. Ray grey and/or to total irrecoverable baldness. Despite all my wahala, he still insisted that I see his 12 year old daughter when she came to visit from Canada. In fact, he’d already connected the two of us from long before she arrived and we communicated by e-mail and telephone sporadically.

We met face-to-face for the first time yesterday and I was surprised to see just how little, how very young she was. Such a gifted child, she has a firm grasp of herself,  this personal consciousness and perception I’m yet to find in many adults. Yet at the same time, you find gaping holes of childlikeness slashing through at odd moments. Like when she tells me she read To Kill a Mocking Bird…and everyone in class teased her about reading such a ‘serious’ book. She tells the story with such an infectious laugh as though she is at once surprised by her own audacity as well as the class’s interest in her. I was absolutely charmed.

A gifted student, she shared with me how worried she was to be selected to join the ‘Gifted’ program at her school. A program dedicated to children identified as having a higher potential to attain more than others in their years. I marveled at an education system that elevates children for the simple purpose of stretching their mental boundaries. In Nigeria, the intelligent children get bumped up a grade. No one asks if they’re emotionally and psychologically advanced as well, no one really cares whether they are mentally capable of their new grade… as long as they show academic competence they are moved upwards. So, what you find is people in the right class at the wrong age with the wrong mindset. Then we wonder at the immaturity and incapacity displayed by some young academic geniuses. This is what was in my mind when I asked my young friend what the point of putting her in the advanced, ‘Gifted’ class was. “Do you get moved up a grade and finish middle school faster when you’re in the Gifted program?” I wondered.

For a moment, she looked like I had spoken parseltongue, totally confused at the words streaming from my lips. Then she said something that made me smile.

“No. You get moved to an advanced class to challenge you…because what’s the point of school if you’re not being challenged?”

Honest question, poignant moment.

I thought about it and wondered how many kids in Nigerian secondary schools wondered the same thing. Lol the point of school for us is to pass…do better than others in class/ get to the next grade faster/finish school earlier/’carry first’ so daddy doesn’t ask if the person who came first has two heads…just something tangible for gossek!  Learning for learning sake?! No bueno.

I was impressed.

She told me how nervous she was, eager to get back home not because the heat of the Niger Delta was driving her to the fall breeze of Alberta’s autumn, but because she suspected that she was already mentally a week behind in school. The increased work load, the new expectations, the pressure to pass, and underneath it all the real fear that failure was imminent, proof that she wasn’t good enough in the first place.

So I said to her something that I hope encouraged her and might encourage someone else.

“You deserve to be there.”

Anything you want, someone else wants it. You must believe that you are as deserving as anyone else to it. Possibly even more, and for no other reason than  because it’s you. You’re important; you’re gifted, if fate should favour someone why shouldn’t it be you?

We must, must, MUST believe in the power of ourselves,. That we are worth it. That we count. That things work out simply because we are involved.

I’ll end with these true words from Richard Kronick:

“You may not know it yet, but you have a winning hand in the game of life. The deck is stacked in your favor and the dealer is winking at you. On your team, are the best and the brightest, awaiting your direction. You are the house, and you always win. The universe is friendly to you, if you so choose….Life can be rigged in your favor. But there’s a small catch: You have to conduct yourself accordingly.”