Is It a Cheetah?

created: Aug 3, 2024 · updated: Aug 3, 2024 · society

I was pleasantly surprised when I recently came across this article titled Is It a Cheetah? by Stephanie S. Tolan. Owing to the staleness of my memories, I had almost forgotten how pertinent this article is until I graduated again, from another school, in another country, and realized how strikingly relevant it still remains.

The article highlights the problem with achievement-oriented thinking by using a cheetah metaphor. The cheetah is known for its unique ability to run at 70 mph. It is the fastest animal on the planet. With its small head, lean body and unusually long legs, the animal is biologically designed to run. However, it is not always running. Despite its design, running at 70 mph is an intensely effortful task and it only reaches its top speed under certain conditions: it must be fully grown and healthy, fit and rested, and it needs plenty of room to run. In addition to that, it is most motivated to run at 70 mph when it hungry and there are antelopes to chase.

Now, if a cheetah is confined to a 10 x 12 foot cage in a zoo, it won’t run at 70 mph. Is it still a cheetah? What if it is sick? Or if it only has rabbits to chase for food? Or if the cheetah is only six weeks old? Under all these circumstances, it won’t be able to run at 70 mph. Is it still a cheetah?

Despite no other cat being able to achieve this, the cheetah isn’t ‘achieving’ anything remarkable when it runs at 70 mph. It is simply behaving normally for a cheetah. Similarly, highly gifted children — such as those who can teach themselves Greek at age five, do algebra in second grade, or play first-class cricket at age fifteen — may appear extraordinary to the world based on their ‘achievements’. While it certainly is a demanding activity to do algebra in second grade, the child is merely operating according to her natural biological design and agency. It is not difficult to see that such a child has been given room to run, something to run for, and, more importantly, has not had her capabilities crippled.

A school system that defines giftedness (or talent) as behavior, achievement and performance is as compromised in its ability to recognize its highly gifted students and to give them what they need as a zoo would be to recognize and provide for its cheetahs if it looked only for speed.

Highly gifted children in traditional school environments are like cheetahs confined in a zoo. Schools confine the children to a 10 x 12 foot cage, not giving them enough room to get up to speed. As a result, many highly gifted children sit in classrooms like big cats in their cages — dull-eyed and silent. Even progressive educational institutions, while more accomodating, still doesn’t provide necessary room and challenges for these growing cheetahs to develop the muscles and stamina to reach their full potential.

In some schools brilliant children are asked to do what they were never designed to do (like cheetahs asked to tear open a wildebeest hide with their claws — after all, the lions can do it!) while the attributes that are a natural aspect of unusual mental capacity — intensity, passion, high energy, independence, moral reasoning, curiosity, humor, unusual interests and insistence on truth and accuracy — are considered problems that need fixing.

Regardless of how much room a zoo provides for its cheetahs, it doesn’t feed them antelopes. Similarly, schools offer challenges to their highly gifted students that are akin to chasing rabbits running at 20 mph. The implications of this are far more ingrained in the minds of the children than I’d like to believe and often persist even after they leave school.

Consider a world where most animals, including cheetahs, are confined to zoos from a young age. While the zoos themselves may not necessarily be identical, the systems that govern them are more or less the same. Some animals need zoos to survive and, to some extent, thrive, especially those that require protection from certain predators or diseases. Cheetahs, however, need plenty of room to run and antelopes to chase. And more importantly, they must be hungry.

In zoos, they are made to chase 20 mph rabbits. Sometimes, they aren’t even required to chase the rabbits; they are simply fed in exchange for their captivity and entertaining the visitors. They are taught that as long as they obey rules and keep entertaining those who feed them, they won’t ever go hungry. They learn from a young age that they no longer have to chase antelopes to feed themselves.

Now, when cheetahs are fully grown and healthy, fit and rested, and are given plenty of room to run outside zoos, would they be able to run at 70 mph? When they know they can feed themselves by chasing 20 mph rabbits, when they are no longer hungry, would they still choose to exert more effort to chase antelopes? Even when they are hungry and there are antelopes to chase, are they still motivated to run at 70 mph, or do they prefer to find and chase more rabbits?

One could also argue that when cheetahs are no longer challenged from a young age, they may not be aware of their full potential when fully grown. What if they don’t recognize their ability to run at 70 mph at all? Highly gifted children, when not provided with the necessary space and challenges to exercise their full potential, often do not realize their true capabilities as they grow up. As a result, they may spend their lives chasing after 20 mph rabbits, engaging in activities to feed themselves that do not align with their natural abilities.

If one doesn’t know their true potential, how can they discover it? Cheetahs should remain hungry enough to not just rely on feeding on rabbits. They shouldn’t rely on zoos either to provide food in exchange for their captivity; they need to keep seeking larger, faster prey. They need to pursue antelopes. If a cheetah can easily chase down a 20 mph rabbit, it surely knows it can catch faster prey. How much faster? To find out, it has to keep chasing faster prey to discover just how fast it can go.

This inherently means putting in more effort than initially might seem necessary and continuously pushing one’s limits. Giftedness alone does not ensure success; rather, it is the combination of giftedness and the willingness to work that allows one to reach their full potential. And when you do surpass your limit, one thing you realize for certain is that it wasn’t your true limit. Once that realization sinks in, things suddenly start to get more exciting. Your perspective broadens in unexpected ways, and you realize you can push yourself even further — you can go faster. Isn’t it?