Book

Description

When I first began my journey as an educational psychologist, I carried the same assumptions that most of my colleagues held: that intelligence was a measurable quantity, that it was distributed along a predictable bell curve, and that our job as professionals was to identify who had more of it and who had less, then allocate resources accordingly. I administered standardized tests, interpreted percentile ranks, and wrote reports that sorted children into categories—gifted, average, below average, learning disabled. I did this with sincerity and with the full belief that I was helping. But slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, a dissonance began to grow within me. I would meet a child who could not complete a timed reading comprehension passage but who could dismantle and reassemble a broken bicycle engine with intuitive mechanical genius. I would assess a teenager whose working memory scores fell below the 10th percentile but who could navigate complex social dynamics among peers with an interpersonal sophistication that I, as an adult, could not match. I would encounter a young girl labelled as intellectually disabled who, when given a paintbrush and an open canvas, produced visual narratives of such emotional depth that experienced artists paused in silence. These were not exceptions to the rule. They were evidence that the rule itself was broken.