The following is an excerpt from a piece in the Summer 2021 issue of Variations2e magazine, which is now available for purchase.
Editor’s Note: The following piece originally appeared on the National Association for Gifted Children (NAGC) blog in August 2020 and is reprinted here with permission. Edits for clarity and style have been made.
“I AM JUST DIFFERENT,” he said, and then Elijah McClain apologized and asked for forgiveness.
In Aurora, Colorado, in 2019, police stopped Elijah McClain for “suspicious behavior.” Elijah had committed no crime, but a struggle ensued. Police used a carotid hold to subdue him, handcuff him face down, and hold him for fifteen minutes until the paramedics arrived. Paramedics injected the 23-year old Black man with ketamine. On the way to the hospital, Elijah suffered a heart attack. He died two days later, declared brain dead, never emerging from a coma. In the last minutes before he lost consciousness, Elijah apologized four times and asked for forgiveness twice. That night a tragic convergence of exceptionalities claimed a precious life.
Elijah’s mother, Sheneen McClain, understood early on that her son was intellectually gifted, taking his own learning seriously. By the time he was a teenager, Elijah had taught himself to play guitar, piano, and violin. On lunch breaks from his job as a massage therapist, he often walked to a nearby animal shelter to play his violin for abandoned cats in hopes that his music would soothe them and ease their loneliness. Friends described Elijah as the gentlest of souls — tolerant, accepting, and in search of higher knowledge. He described himself as an introvert. At the end of interactions with others, Elijah typically bowed warmly — his gratitude bow. April Young, a friend, described Elijah as having a child-like spirit and not conditioned to societal norms: “He was never into … fitting in. He just was who he was.”
Many of our gifted learners experience the world in a unique, richly textured way, intuitively making connections others do not, thinking in abstractions, and carrying a strong sense of justice. Not fitting in — being who he was — likely led to Elijah’s death. The night he died, Elijah had gone to a neighborhood convenience store to purchase tea. He wore a face mask he often wore — first as a runner to wick away moisture and provide warmth, and then more frequently because he was anemic and always cold, even on hot summer nights. Those who knew him best speculate that the mask helped Elijah feel more comfortable because of social anxiety — a protection and security that helped his confidence. That night, police received a report of someone exhibiting suspicious behavior, wearing a mask, and waving his hands. …
To read the entire piece, please purchase the latest issue of Variations2e.
“I AM JUST DIFFERENT,” he said, and then Elijah McClain apologized and asked for forgiveness.
In Aurora, Colorado, in 2019, police stopped Elijah McClain for “suspicious behavior.” Elijah had committed no crime, but a struggle ensued. Police used a carotid hold to subdue him, handcuff him face down, and hold him for fifteen minutes until the paramedics arrived. Paramedics injected the 23-year old Black man with ketamine. On the way to the hospital, Elijah suffered a heart attack. He died two days later, declared brain dead, never emerging from a coma. In the last minutes before he lost consciousness, Elijah apologized four times and asked for forgiveness twice. That night a tragic convergence of exceptionalities claimed a precious life.
Elijah’s mother, Sheneen McClain, understood early on that her son was intellectually gifted, taking his own learning seriously. By the time he was a teenager, Elijah had taught himself to play guitar, piano, and violin. On lunch breaks from his job as a massage therapist, he often walked to a nearby animal shelter to play his violin for abandoned cats in hopes that his music would soothe them and ease their loneliness. Friends described Elijah as the gentlest of souls — tolerant, accepting, and in search of higher knowledge. He described himself as an introvert. At the end of interactions with others, Elijah typically bowed warmly — his gratitude bow. April Young, a friend, described Elijah as having a child-like spirit and not conditioned to societal norms: “He was never into … fitting in. He just was who he was.”
Many of our gifted learners experience the world in a unique, richly textured way, intuitively making connections others do not, thinking in abstractions, and carrying a strong sense of justice. Not fitting in — being who he was — likely led to Elijah’s death. The night he died, Elijah had gone to a neighborhood convenience store to purchase tea. He wore a face mask he often wore — first as a runner to wick away moisture and provide warmth, and then more frequently because he was anemic and always cold, even on hot summer nights. Those who knew him best speculate that the mask helped Elijah feel more comfortable because of social anxiety — a protection and security that helped his confidence. That night, police received a report of someone exhibiting suspicious behavior, wearing a mask, and waving his hands. …
To read the entire piece, please purchase the latest issue of Variations2e. 
