I had one of those poignant, memorable little moments yesterday.
It was in a retail setting, and I had just tried to use my card in the card reader. There was some minor snafu (I had slid the card when I should have inserted it, or inserted it when I should have slid it, or something) so I made a little self-deprecatory comment about having a genius IQ and still not being able to do the simplest things.
Well, the clerk responded by saying, "same here," and saying a number near 150. For a moment, I didn't get it, and then I responded with my number near 150. The two of us smiled at each other, and had a brief back-and-forth along the lines of, "It's a challenge, isn't it?"
I mean, we didn't even need to go any further, did we? It's a challenge being so ridiculously bright that you are always the smartest person in your family, school, or work setting. Being told you intimidate people, or your resume intimidates people. "Getting" things minutes, hours, days, or years before other people do. Being told that people don't understand you. Using "big words" and not being able to help it. That's my variation on the theme, anyway.
Although women of genius have clearly had a particularly hard path in this regard, I think this is an issue that transcends all superficial identities. Yes, some geniuses find an appropriate university teaching, research, or other career, but how many more do not? We, with Niagara Falls-size intelligence coursing through our veins (by whatever measure, IQ or otherwise) are waiting tables at restaurants, paving the roads, manning the cash registers, entering data, you name it. The world is comfortable with a norm, and too many of us have been squashed down to fit into it rather than encouraged to soar with our intellect. It's such an absurd waste of human potential, isn't it?
I didn't know, walking away, whether to be sad or happy, but the happiness won out. I am constantly trying to find members of my various tribes, and by accident, I found one of them. Yay!
