My Sister...

... is crazy. When she was confirmed in the Catholic Church two years ago (Catholics are usually baptized at birth. Confirmation is a rite we go through when we're older in which we confirm that we really do believe in the teachings of the Church and want to continue in our faith) she asked me to be her sponsor. A sponsor is the person who fosters the Confirmation Candidates growth in the Church and helps them along their path.

Of course I said yes, I would love to be her sponsor. However, in the weeks before her Confirmation, my sister's behavior became out of control, and she started to really hurt my family. I felt that it would be hypocritical of me to stand in the Church and say that I thought she would be a good Catholic. I'm not very religious, but that made even me squeamish.

One of my duties as a sponsor was to write my sister a letter. In my confusion of whether or not I should actually sponsor her, I wrote two, and now I will share them with you.

Before you read these, I feel like I should apologize for not explaining the extent of my sister's bad behavior. I won't detail it, but just know that she wasn't merely sneaking out of the house and calling boys late at night.

The first letter expressed my true feelings about her being Confirmed:

Victoria-

You are not dumb. I know you’re not, you know you’re not. So let’s be smart and look at some facts.

Mom and Dad spend thousands of dollars every year to get you a good education.

You ignore your education, and would rather talk online all day than do homework. 

Mom and Dad make sure that there is always phone, TV and internet in the house.

You use the internet that they pay for in twisted, and often illegal ways.

They make sure that you always have more than enough food.

You thank them by never helping out around the house, and whining when you are asked to.

They nourish your basketball talents and take you anywhere and everywhere to play on teams and in games, and pay whatever it costs. 

You steal money from them to do strange things with phones. 

They buy you a gorgeous dress, take you to Cotillion, and let you have 9 girls to sleep over at the house.

You tell them you hate them and lie to them constantly.

They take you on at least one vacation every year, more than most people have.

You tell people that they abuse you. Another lie.

Just some facts. Think it over, you’re not dumb.

I know you’ve been telling me for a long time that it’s none of my business, and to butt out, but it is my business, Victoria. This is my family that you’re messing with. You drag me into it every time you start your crap in the house, so I’m well within my rights to call you out on your bullshit.

You’re selfish. For some reason you think you deserve the wonderful life that you’ve been handed without doing anything to deserve it. You’re a bitch, Victoria. And you need to grow up and get over yourself. You’re taking it for granted that your family will always love you. And we will always love you, but you are hurting our lives. There will come a point when we have to move on from having our lives stopped by a selfish little brat like you. Who knows when you will push us all too hard?  But you need to cut this crap out soon.

Think about your Confirmation. You’re supposed to be confirming how you are going to lead a Catholic life. Do you think your actions are very Catholic-like? One thing that I will tell you is that you need to start thinking about sponsors to choose last minute, because I am seriously thinking about not being your sponsor anymore. I’m not saying that I’m not going to be your sponsor... but you’ve pushed me almost too far. Almost. So I’m thinking about it. Because I don’t think any of your actions these days are Catholic at all. In fact, I don’t think you should be getting Confirmed. I’m just saying.

Look at the facts. And stop messing up my family, and your life. 

The Second is the letter I actually gave to her:

My Gorgeous Beautiful Little Sister

This is a big time for you. Being Confirmed means that you are making a commitment to God to stay strong in your Faith, and a promise to yourself to show your Catholic values every day in your life. It’s not an easy thing to do, to always act as a good Catholic. It’s not easy to love everyone that you meet, and it’s hard to do the right thing, even when you know what that is. But when you make the choice to Confirm your Faith, you’re making a promise to do your best always in everything. It’s a big promise to make, and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. It’s a challenge.

Victoria, I have never known you to back down at a challenge. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. When you are joining a new basketball team where you know no one, you throw your shoulders back, smile at everyone, and pass the ball until you have made friends. You face situations that other people find uncomfortable, like feeding the less fortunate at the Schulsbacher Center, and lead everyone to be comfortable, while sharing your joyous smile with all. You are a treasure to watch while you share your gifts.

Your gifts are only growing every day. I love watching you grow with them.

Being sisters is a complicated friendship. Sometimes, I tell you to leave me alone. Sometimes, I tell you to stop asking so many questions. And, sometimes, I get mad when you don’t do things my way.

This is the most important part of my letter:

Never never never leave me alone. Every day you teach me to be a little more selfless, and to find wonder and excitement in the little things in life. I want you always right by my side to teach me more.

Never stop asking questions. Your curiosity is one of your best gifts. Keep asking why, keep asking how, and keep discovering new things to be amazed at.

Do things your own way, always. Listen to God and use your Faith to decide what “your own way” is, but after you figure it out, always stay true to it. Continue to use your gifts every day: stay kind to everyone you meet, wonder about everything around you, and help anyone who needs it, even if they don’t want it.

Meet this challenge, Tori. The challenge of being a good Catholic everyday and growing in your Faith is the hardest one you have had to meet yet. I know you will be great, and I can’t wait to see it for myself. God is proud of you every day Victoria, and so am I.

Squid, I love you more than you will ever know. 

What's really twisted is that I meant every word in both letters. 

I never went to her Confirmation.

Thoughts from an Ex Gifted Individual

Today, I was told that gifted children don't ever resent being gifted, and usually enjoy being taken out of "regular class" with all their friends to be put into gifted classes. My Human Growth & Development professor said that gifted kids enjoyed the creativity they got to indulge when they were put into their "special" classes.

This is simply not (always) true.

It was in a class setting that this offense occurred, and I didn't want to be the douche who said "Well... as a gifted child..." (I hope you read that in a nasally, obnoxious voice), so, instead, you are getting to read about my affronted indignation. Lucky.

When I was younger, and enrolled in the Mentally Gifted program at Afton Elementary (looking back, I can't believe "mentally gifted" was what they actually called it. Does it seem a little politically incorrect?), I hated it. I was a strange kid, and people thought it was weird that I read during lunch and recess. There were some "looks" when I told a group of girls in my fourth grade class who were discussing perfume that their lovely scent was most likely made with ambergris, a flammable gooey substance found in the intestines of a sperm whale (that's a conversation I'll never forget). All I wanted was to fit in with the people I went to school with, and I didn't know how. Because I wanted to talk about why Beethoven wanted us to switch hands back and forth to play the same series of notes in that A section of Fur Elise (did he just want to add a display of grandeur? did he want to ensure that the pianist played it with the articulation he thought appropriate? What was he thinking!?), and my classmates wanted to discuss the Barenaked Ladies and kissing.

Saying that I didn't fit in is a wild understatement. It was even more noticable, I think, because I so desperately wanted to. I would repeat things I heard other people say in different theaters because I figured if people liked it when they said it, they would like it when I said it, too (false). But there were other things, like the fact that I hated brushing my hair, and wanted to climb trees more than I wanted to pick out my own clothes (the result: tangled hair with leaves in it, and a solid color sweatsuit that my mother picked out. In teal.) So I'm sure you can imagine how I felt about it when all my classmates stared as I stood up and left the class at a certain time every day to go and be "special." 

I did the least amount of work possible in those classes. If I had to be there because I was smart, then I would be as dumb as I could. Unfortunately, at 8 or 9 years old, I didn't know how to convince everyone I wasn't smart enough for the classes. Failing to do all the homework, but then finishing the test in under ten minutes was not the way to go, lesson learned. It just taught everyone that I was lazy.

I think eventually I gave in to the freak flag thing. I started dying my hair blue and purple, and playing vocabulary games for fun. But to this day, in my second to last semester of my graduate program, I can honestly say that I have only put forth my best academic effort on one single project. It was a clay and cardboard replication of the Appalachian Mountains. And it was beautiful.

Fortunately, I had my brainiac brother to cover all the smarts of the family. So I learned to be funny and sort of smart, and it's served me pretty well so far. Sometimes I wonder if my procrastination, horrible spelling, and lazy school attitude are inherent or learned, and today put me a little more on the "learned" side of things.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that some kids don't want to be different - even if it's "good" different. Some kids just want to fit in, so if you're going to torture them through admitting that they're smart, put them in a school with a whole lot of other smart kids, where 8-year-olds talk about ambergris.