The Curse of the DEI Gifted Kid

Would I make the cut in an American Meritocracy today?

With Trump's inauguration and DEI rollbacks, I found myself contemplating the fact that I lived in a DEI-governed nation for nearly a decade. If I had to re-enter the workforce, could I make the cut today? The answer is, I don't know. I could be massively underestimating my abilities. I am bright and talented, and I can say that unashamedly—but am I competitive in an American meritocracy? I can't know for sure that I am. For context, I am turning 30 this year, meaning I have never had to function in an American Meritocracy in my adult life.

Not knowing the answer to “Would I make the cut today?” frightens me. I will never know how many opportunities I had afforded to me simply for being an ethnic woman in the United States during an era where that carried some weight. I am a Latin woman, and for some time, checking those boxes likely got me into many doors. I would even argue my racial ambiguity has afforded me to say much harsher truths than most Conservative white pundits can. (Don't worry, I will carry the cross for us.) I genuinely do not care if I get called racist because I am so obviously Puerto Rican, and I have the DNA receipts and phenotypic features to back it.

That being said, I am not particularly worried about re-entering the workforce. Something drastic would have to go wrong in my life for me to worry about it, and I do have a foundation as a digital entrepreneur that I can scale up if I ever need to.

For those who don't know, I have a YouTube channel with a little over 180K subscribers. I used to do a lot of live-streaming and pre-recorded cultural commentary videos. I would do them more frequently, but executing a flawless video takes more labor than people who watch YouTube realize. And I love YouTube far too much to half-ass a video. I won’t do it; plus, being pregnant or breastfeeding for most of the last three years takes up most of my attention and supersedes prolific YouTube content creation.

Was I ever actually good enough?

It’s the not knowing that bothers me.

To give myself the benefit of the doubt, I want to be upfront: I am intelligent. I've had my IQ tested twice, but I don't have the scores handy. The first was in elementary school to enter the "gifted" program—which we will get into because the disability claims critics make against that demographic might be accurate. The second time I had my IQ tested was in high school when I took the ASVAB to get out of class. Classic.

I never thought I would use it. For those of you who are unfamiliar, the ASVAB is an IQ test because it would be criminal for the United States military to send those with mental retardation to war. Sorry for the crass verbiage, but that's the significance of the ASVAB aside from intellectual capacity-based job classifications. Your military job offer will be based on your intelligence level for obvious reasons. My score was a 95/99.

I am smarter than your average man or woman, but there is no way that I am as bright as an objectively intelligent man. For some fun fourth-wall-breaking, some of you high-brow male Substack writers outright frighten me with your intellect. I wouldn't want to be in a room alone with you guys because all I could chat about would be babies, while you would likely go way above my head on geopolitics, and I would stare like a deer in headlights.

I know my limitations. While I am intelligent, I am not well-read, highly educated, nor intellectual. I do with my mind what feels fun, and it's nothing that will win me a Nobel Prize. I put most of my intelligence to use in the following areas: mate selection, life planning, fitness, and social media. Remember, IQ is the “ability to think,” not the ability to influence the world permanently in a groundbreaking manner. I think real good, but I don’t do real good.

Back to the gifted thing—listen, I think the “gifted kids are retarded” allegations are true. At first, I thought people were being mean to this special demographic of kids on X, but maybe the commentary was onto something. I’m unsure of what to make of my experience with the program. I got put in there because I always read a grade level or more ahead of my classmates. I was bored, talkative, and unruly. I had a teacher notice in second grade who told my parent to get me tested. I was tested and then put into a weekly structured hang-out with other smart children in the county.

I loved going to Gifted once a week because it was the only time I could talk to other smart children (and some high-functioning autistic kids—they kept it spicy). You have to understand that, being that bright as a child, the only person you can talk to is your teacher—maybe. There was no one to converse with, and I couldn't talk to my parents about anything that interested me at home either. No offense to them, but I have never had a conversation on geopolitics with my parents ever in my life, and it's not because I didn't want to. My parents seemed happy I was brilliant when I was younger because it gave them bragging rights, but that was the extent of their interest or involvement with my wits.

Being a smart girl has been an incredibly lonely experience for most of my life. I still can’t talk about it much publicly without scrutiny. It does not seem like I am allowed to lament the implications of a benefit I did not earn. I think this is because, like beauty, intelligence flies in the face of Marxism. Some of us are born smart, and some of us are born beautiful. No one but God can impart that on a person.

Plus, the fact that I’m a social media personality who has had several public “woman moments” doesn’t help, as people genuinely think I’m lying about my intelligence. And it’s like, just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I’m not a ✨ woman ✨ at times. I can’t be smart all the time or in all different forms of intelligence. I am entitled to a brain-dead moment from time to time. For example, it took me forever to realize the rapper Eminem’s name stood for Marshall Mathers, as in M and M = Eminem. I have many more woman moments to recall for you all, but for now, that is the one I will share because it always makes me chuckle.

IT IS MY BIRTHRIGHT AS A WOMAN TO BE A DITZ!

Throughout most of public school, I was made fun of for being "smarter." This eventually led me to befriend boys on the mathematics team and eat lunch with my teachers in high school. If not for the rough upbringing, which made me socially maladjusted in many ways, being the smartest kid in a room routinely did a number on me. I still hate it, although I am glad these days that I find myself being the smartest person in a room less often than in times past.

The social isolation and lack of mental stimulation in public school were psychologically tormenting. Imagine, every day from Pre-K to 12th grade, you’re the smartest girl in every room. Every. Single. Day. Sometimes even smarter than the adults. There is no one to talk to. There is no one to bounce ideas off of. There is no facilitation of intrigue. The worksheets are stupid and mind-numbing. You can do them in 5 minutes while everyone needs more time. You finish all tests early. You have few friends because you talk weirdly. You know the busy work is busy work, and you’re so sick of it that you just want to run away from the monotony. In fact, I did! I calculated exactly how many days I could miss in a school year without having a truancy problem and would proceed to skip that amount of days in high school.

While my home life made me act out in school, the social fabric of public school was just as responsible for my lashing out. I felt trapped in a room with people who didn't speak my language daily, and all I wanted was to talk to someone as smart as I was. Eventually, I was lucky enough to find a few male peers to connect with, but the boys on the math team, who were far smarter than me, likely welcomed me into their group more because they found me cute than because of any shared interests. It wasn’t exactly the connection I was seeking.

Public school was a mistake for me. I should have been homeschooled with competent parents. Public school stunted me more than it helped me. When you are an intelligent child, it's tough to go through the motions for the sake of bureaucratic formality. I got As in high school if I mildly applied myself. Some semesters, I flat out didn't and got some failing grades, not because I couldn't do the work, but because I refused to. In college, I quiet quit my senior year in my mid-twenties, but before that, I was a two-time college dropout. My dropping out twice was heavily influenced by my experiences up until that point. The Gifted program and public school system did me no favors: I never had to try to succeed.

The first time I went to college on a full-ride scholarship at age 18 in 2014, I freaked out. There were so many people on campus, I was lonely, didn't know how to socialize, and was still living at home, driving 45 minutes to and from school… I Messed Around and Found Out—bigly.

I was the tiny fish in the big pond and I FLED. As it turns out, you need more than intelligence to succeed in a rigorous education program—you need structure, discipline, and a strong work ethic.

I HAD NONE OF THAT. It was never demanded of me! After high school, I dropped out of college once, re-enrolled, got a B (a rare occurrence), got demoralized, freaked out, dropped out again, and joined the military. So, are Gifted kids special needs? I don't know, but I would not say those allegations are far-fetched. If I didn't get married and have kids, I'd be that smart person working at a coffee shop and working out all the time for the vibe. I am not built to be in a lab or other more rigorous workplaces—sorry, it ain't in me. I am remarkably low in conscientiousness. It is a gift and a curse. I enjoy being a Type B woman, but it is a perpetual game of catch-up for me.

So, I don’t know if I would make the cut today. Although I had decent SAT and ACT scores when I left high school, they weren’t remarkable. I only took them once because the scores were satisfactory for state college applications. I had the opportunity to take them each twice, but I didn’t bother. I got into each of the two four-year universities I applied to effortlessly, and they were the only colleges I applied to. I’ve never had to try to qualify for much of anything in my life. Even in the military, I was part of a diversity initiative of the Obama administration, which makes me wonder if I was a DEI hire as a servicemember as well…

I'll never know if I was good enough. I didn't have to function in a meritocracy when I entered academia or the workforce. I think people will see more of these mass realizations occur as we transition to a proper American Meritocracy—many people will find they cannot function within one because they've never been asked to. I've never been asked to academically or professionally; in fact, I was sometimes punished in the few instances where I applied myself.

The Golden Era that Trump is pushing will improve this nation overall. Still, many people will have identity crises because of this shift—not just Liberals, but Conservatives as well—because many have no idea how significantly subsidized their lives have been up until this point.

Those who foolishly thought they could cut the mustard will be confronted with the fact that they cannot and may not even be able to process it. A new wave of mass denialism may arise where people swear they are qualified for the jobs and positions they are not. I suspect droves of DEI “smart” women will conclude, “Huh, maybe marriage and babies aren’t a bad idea after all,” when they realize their six-figure salary is a near impossibility for them. Being smart isn’t enough (if they are smart); they must have grit!

Anyway, you guys have fun out there. I’ll be in my robe, pregnant with my morning hot cocoa while this all goes down.