is intelligence relative?

Cardo and I were on our way home from a date (!) tonight when we were, of course, talking about Pic. (Yeah, we so don’t have a “no talking about the kidlet” rule for our incredibly infrequent dates…what can I say? we love us some Pic). Cardo started to say, “She’s smart,” but kind of stopped himself. I knew what he was thinking. I also think she’s smart. However, we were both acknowledged that we really only ever spend time with her, as far as children go. Sure, we see other people’s kids, but we don’t spend any really extended period of time with them. And, they’re all either older or younger than Pic.

Pic seems to understand lots of ideas pretty quickly. And, she maintains her grasp on most of these things. However, there are times when something just doesn’t want to stick. I used to wonder if she’d never remember her colors. For some time, everything was yellow. There are times when I think she’ll never get the hang of recognizing the following numbers: 6, 7, 8, 9. Actually, she does have seven down. Of course, she refers to it as, “Before the 8…7.” Just like that. Small things, I know.

Then, I have to wonder: What really counts as intelligence? What makes a person smart? Sure, I got good grades throughout my schooling, but plot me down somewhere with a map and have me try to find my way around and I panic. Yes, I can read a map, and, depending on the sun, I can figure out which direction is which (I’d be screwed at night, because I don’t read stars), but I have absolutely no internal sense of direction. I’ve lived here for more than a decade now and I still get lost in places I’ve been hundreds of times.

I don’t understand how my computer works, how electricity works, how cars work. (I understand bits, sometimes, but in general, I’m a at a loss.) I have a hard time remembering how to spell “exercise” and I recently spent a day spelling “cheese” as “cheeze.” I can do some math in my head, but I still rely on writing it out or using a calculator to check my work (especially in balancing the checkbooks).

The more I learn, the less I feel I know. The less intelligent I feel, which is particularly difficult for me because I was always told, growing up, that I was intelligent. That was the one thing I felt I had going for me. It’s really hard to question that, to feel that waver under me.

So, back to Pic. Is she smart? I think so. I think that everyone I’ve met is smart in some way. There’re people like me who are book smart and there are people like Cardo who are hands-on smart. (I just realized that I’ve heard the term “book smart” and the term “street smart” but I’m unsure how to describe people who can figure out the inner workings of machines and such…mechanically smart? Chissa?)

I know that there are definitions for smartness and intelligence, but do they really reflect every kind of intelligence? Am I just too wrapped up in this idea that everyone is special in their own way (one of the great, great problems of my generation, according to many)?

I know people who have gotten great grades in school without even trying? Does that make them smart? Does it mean that they've figured out how to play the "game" of school? Does that mean that they have stellar memories (if so, lucky them!). I've known people who have gotten terrible grades in school. Does that make them not smart? Does it mean that they simply aren't trying? Does it mean that they might not be smart in the ways that school measures?

Okay, I know that I'm starting to ramble here. I've been thinking on this for quite some time now (years, people, years) so you might think I'd have this more worked out by now. I obviously don't. I just have to say that this kind of an issue makes me so hesitant to use labels. Yes, I actually hesitate to tell my daughter, "You're smart" because I don't know what will happen when she gets into school. What will happen when she is compared with all those other students? Is that when intelligence really begins to be relative? As I mentioned above, being smart was my thing. "The smart one" was my identity. I felt so much pressure (mainly my own, I'm sure) to live up to that, to surpass others' ideas of me and I so often felt resentful (often of myself).

Argh! I have to end this here (which I just typed "hear"). It's the middle of the night. I don't need to be so far into my own head right now.

Any thoughts, though?