Observation and analysis of three gifted underachievers in an underserved,urban high school setting

Jennifer

Jennifer was a vibrant student who identified as Hispanic and chose to attend my school in order to balance her part-time job with her coursework as well as receive support in passing the Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test (FCAT), a requirement for her graduation. Based on her verbal interactions in class, I did not consider that she was gifted in the first place; she simply did not exhibit the usual exuberance for curriculum or display a high level of impassioned participation that often accompanies high ability students.

However, after reading and commenting on writing assignments one evening, I came across one that had a different tone entirely. With eloquent diction, superb vocabulary, and introspective thinking, I was flabbergasted, and thrilled, that a student had submitted a paper of this quality. When I saw Jennifer’s name at the top of the paper, I honestly could not even picture who she was – the name simply did not resonate.

When I handed Jennifer her paper, I complimented the quality and insight of her writing. With wide eyes and a smile, her exact comment to me was, ‘you actually read my paper?’. I was taken aback that she would even consider me not reading her work; however, as I learned through my continued interactions with underserved students, many were simply used to receiving a mark with no comments or merely being given credit for attempted completion of an assignment. In our conversation, Jennifer indicated that she had been gifted in the past and was a ‘pretty good writer’. To make a connection with her, I explained that I was gifted myself and asked her why she felt that she no longer considered herself to have high ability. As is the case with many urban, underserved students, she explained that life simply got in the way.

Furthermore, she indicated that her interactions with teachers had become negative due to her perceived lack of care for the quality of her work as well as her growing frustration with continually not passing the FCAT for graduation. Jennifer indicated that her failure on the state reading assessment made her feel like an ‘inadequate student’ and that she simply stopped trying so hard because she felt that failure was inevitable and that she did not want to define herself as the ‘intellectual type’.

Upon examining her records, I discovered that Jennifer was still identified as gifted, but I saw no evidence of support services in her high school curriculum. Clearly Jennifer had potential; however, her performance had been derailed and I made it one of my professional goals to help her fulfill her true level of capability while she was in my charge.

While Jennifer’s assignments continued to remain solid and insightful, to the point that I would save her paper for last to grade in order to end my work on a positive note, she was not showing growth or any indication that she was reading and applying my comments for her growth and improvement in literacy skills. As a result, I decided to become more active with my feedback by discussing matters with Jennifer one-on-one when I returned her assignments. Through these verbal interactions, I gleaned even more insight into the reasons for her underachievement.

First, she indicated that she was satisfied with her work as long as her grades were acceptable. She was receiving between 90% and 100% on all of her essays and saw no reason to elaborate or extend her thinking because she saw no advantage in making the additional effort. Essentially, Jennifer had a combination of ability and creative thinking, but she saw no value in how the task was relevant to her life. I therefore approached the situation from two perspectives: first, I told Jennifer that I was going to begin grading her with more rigor, since I knew she was much more capable of producing work of a superior quality; second, I asked Jennifer to think about how her performance on her writing assignments could affect her score on the FCAT reading assessment that she despised so intensely. As I explained the reciprocal relationship between writing and reading skills to her, she became more engaged in our conversations. She had not thought of this as a potential strategy for facilitating her desire to improve her reading skills because she viewed the FCAT as an assessment that was to be defeated with analysis and test-taking strategies rather than approached with the same finesse, insight, and divergent thinking that she used so well in her writing assignments.

Although she failed to pass the FCAT in the fall of her junior year, she was able to eke out a passing score in the spring before her senior year. Needless to say, Jennifer was ecstatic. Upon her return the following fall, Jennifer was a different person. She sat toward the front of the class and would provide spontaneous insight to class discussions as well as prompt others to think and provide alternate points of view. No longer did assignments comprise a single, well-written paragraph or two – now, they were averaging two to three pages at a minimum.

During her interview, I asked Jennifer to reflect on what caused her to make such a significant change in her approach toward school. She stated that it essentially boiled down to three factors: (1) she was empowered by her passing score on the FCAT, (2) she was honored that I had placed such a high level of expectation on her work and she wanted to meet my standard, and (3) she accepted the fact that she was purposefully limiting her growth in English for no valid reason.

While the first two reasons made natural sense to me as an educator, I was shocked at her bluntness and willingness to admit the third reason. As we discussed this further, Jennifer relayed that she realized she had willingly chosen not to apply her talents based solely on outside circumstances and factors and that she wanted to become ‘gifted again’ on her own terms. She had a realization, she accepted reality, and she dedicated herself to creating a positive change – a truly best case scenario for a gifted underachiever.

Jimmy

Jimmy arrived in my class in an attempt to salvage his high school diploma. In a sea of underserved students with sporadic attendance, lack of intrinsic motivation and apathy toward school, Jimmy fitted. He had failed English III in prior years, so he had my class twice: once for junior English and once for senior English. Jimmy did not take advantage of his situation. For his first class, he would attend approximately 50% of the time; the second class only about 25%. When he did attend, he usually just put his head down and went to sleep. If asked a question directly he would answer, but he would never voluntarily speak or engage in class. Given his lackluster performance, I decided to speak with him one-on-one and, while he listened respectfully, Jimmy did not seem enthusiastic about trying to improve. Nevertheless, he did say he would try and recover for the second marking period because he wanted to join the army. This was invaluable information, because I now understood his motivation for reentering school in the first place.

However, it wasn’t until I was preparing testing groups for an upcoming administration of the FCAT that I truly learned the most valuable information about Jimmy. At the research site, approximately 95% of students have failed to pass the FCAT and, as a result, participate in bi-annual re-take opportunities. Imagine my surprise and stupor when I was creating the testing list and saw that Jimmy had previously passed the FCAT – at an advanced level. My first thought was that this was a mistake. How could a student who was failing English and who slept through class have one of the highest FCAT scores in the school? To my disbelief, Jimmy’s transcript was filled with advanced classes as well as a key revelation – Jimmy was gifted. Not only was he gifted, he was highly gifted, with an individual intelligence test score of 147, yet he was a scintilla away from becoming a high school dropout.

Jimmy acknowledged his past performance and did not deny his gifted identification; however, he made it very clear that he was no longer that person. When asked to expound on his meaning, Jimmy stated that he learned it was ‘uncool’ to be smart as an African-American male and that he chose to sacrifice his performance in exchange for positive and accepted social standing among his peers. However, Jimmy stated that it was this culture of judgment and social persuasion that he wanted to escape; he wanted a fresh start so that he could try to realize his full potential – he was simply struggling to reach that fresh start while going unnoticed by his peers. This was gifted underachievement in its most raw form. Here was a young man fully capable not only of graduating high school, but of being the valedictorian. Yet he chose to fail – out of fear of ridicule. In my continued conversations with Jimmy, I explained that I understood why he avoided looking smart, but that I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t turn in his work if I was the only person who would see it. His response: ‘I do the work, I just don’t turn it in and sometimes I do it in a different way’.

Jimmy removed a composition notebook from his bag and handed it to me. When I opened it, it was brimming with writing and drawings on nearly the first fifty pages – front and back! As I began to peruse the writing, I saw that it was mostly written in poetic form and was highly structured and written with impeccable vocabulary and candor.

My quandary with Jimmy was how to help him be successful in my class while honoring his wish to remain incognito to his peers. Now that I knew Jimmy had the potential and ability to succeed, I simply had to design an avenue that he would accept for showing learning gains. As a result, I told him that he could come by before or after school and leave his notebook with me for review and that I would return it to him the next day after school when the other students had left. Jimmy began to apply himself covertly, just enough to maintain passing grades in both classes but his performance was still severely odds with his known ability. Since Jimmy scoffed at positive comments regarding the quality or depth of his work, I decided to approach his situation from an affective lens rather than an intellectual one. I shared with Jimmy that I was gifted as well, discussed with him the potential benefits of how giftedness can positively affect one’s life, and asked him if he was satisfied with purposefully not utilizing his gift. His response was, for me, heart wrenching: he felt that giftedness was a ‘curse’ and that he would give anything to not be gifted. He also stated that he knew he was underachieving, but that it didn’t bother him because he didn’t need high achievements to validate who he was at the core.

As shown by his decision to return to school and join the army, Jimmy wanted change, but he was afraid of the risk required to get there. Jimmy’s potential for success was paralyzed by his unwillingness to accept himself for his true talent and ability as well as his desire to conform to the limits set forth by his peer group. With only half of this equation in place, unraveling underachievement for this gifted student in this context was wistful for me and frivolous for Jimmy.

Mariah

Mariah was an effervescent, 17 year-old African-American female whose state assessment scores in both reading and math were in the 99th percentile. The entire staff was excited to have an exuberant learner in the classroom to help serve as a role model; however, this desire remained a fantasy. Although Mariah was highly intelligent and could hold conversations at high levels of reflection and insight, her academic record and attendance were horrific.

In fact, she had actually been asked to leave her previous school because they knew she had no chance of graduating and they didn’t want her to damage their school grade rating – a sad but true state of affairs in today’s educational quagmire, particularly in urban settings. Mariah’s transcript was littered with Ds and Fs and her 1.32 grade-point average (GPA) was well below what was needed to graduate. However, she announced that she knew she had the ability and that she was going to do everything she could to try and graduate on time. Saying that her road was arduous would be an understatement of gargantuan proportions. Not only did she have to complete her senior year classes, she had simultaneously to attempt credit recovery on the classes she failed in order to raise her GPA. Essentially, she needed to earn fourteen As in one school year just to squeak by and walk across the stage.

From the onset, I was worried that she had overloaded her plate and that she was setting herself up for failure, but her self-confidence and self-efficacy were so high that she would not be persuaded. However, the problem was that she could not get initial traction. As hard as I and the rest of the school staff supported her academically and affectively, she simply continued to underachieve. Her basic approach was to attend sporadically, engage highly through verbal interaction when present, turn in no work for seven to eight weeks, and then turn in just enough to pass with a D on the very last day that work was accepted. In reading her cursory sentences on wrinkled and stained paper, my heart sank because I knew she was capable of so much more. I longed to see just one quality artifact that was truly representative of the ability everyone knew she had. However, it was not to be, because her desires and intentions lay not with intellectual growth and stimulation but, rather, in social popularity and personal survival.

Circumstances in Mariah’s life caused her to place a focus on areas other than intellectual development. She wanted to have a thriving social life and feel as though she fitted into her environment. However, this was awkward for her for various reasons: she was morbidly obese, she went in and out of homelessness, and she had to work a full-time job, while trying to salvage her uphill battle toward a diploma, simply to survive day-to-day life. The result? The classroom became her social haven and, since she could not find satisfaction in a physical manner, she compensated for it by attempting to be the social center of her universe.

Although it was truly a pleasure to have her in class, because she was engaging, articulate, and thought with deep levels of reflection and cognition, Mariah gave me no product other than her participation upon which to base her learning gains. I made it a point to continually support her affectively through daily affirmations and motivational talks. She was always graceful and humble in her response: ‘I know I need to do better. I want to be the person that I know is inside of me so I can be proud of her’. She would commit to doing better, but the change was stalled. I made every effort to accommodate Mariah’s experience in my class. I compacted units, offered independent study projects, tailored the curriculum to her interests, and even offered to take her assignments via text message or email, but none of it worked. She was simply not interested in anything except working and social pleasure.

As the school year entered the second half, the pressure on Mariah intensified. She now had only sixteen weeks to complete all that was needed to meet graduation requirements, but she had not even begun her credit recovery classes and she was carrying nothing above a C in any of her face-to-face classes. We had a parent–teacher conference, but the message remained the same: she can do it. But she couldn’t. Nobody could have because it was simply not feasible – for anyone.

Therefore, as the school year came to a close, I tried to move Mariah into acceptance of her situation. She was not graduating, but she had options beyond dropping out. At first, she was dismissive of my ideas and simply denied the fact that any of this was happening. It wasn’t until the very week of graduation, when caps and gowns were handed out and tickets were distributed, that she came to me and asked for advice. She expressed her feelings of regret but also acknowledged the fact that she would ‘be okay’ after school because she knew she had what it took to survive in the real world. Mariah had always accepted with grace and humility who she was, a highly gifted individual with great talent and creativity who was not rising to her full potential. Her problem was that she was unwilling to change, which resulted in her inability to close the gap between her potential and her performance. In my final discussion with her, Mariah had finally had an epiphany. It was time for change and she was ready to work toward it – she was ready for a fresh start. She wanted redemption in her most dire hour.

Implications

Motivational factors play a significant role for gifted underachievers (McCoach and Siegle, 2003; Seeley, 2004). As a result, teachers of gifted underachievers must first identify what motivates their students as well as infuse affective support into the classroom routine in order to attempt closure of the gap between potential and performance (Landis and Reschly, 2013; Seeley, 2004). In Jennifer’s case, her motivation sprang from her desire to pass the FCAT in order to graduate. Due to her prior struggle to pass the assessment, she began to show signs of self-doubt and lack of engagement in the day-to-day curriculum, both common behaviors for gifted underachievers (Hoover-Shultz, 2005; Landis and Reschly, 2013). The positive aspect of Jennifer’s case was that she had a specific goal; she was just frustrated in how to achieve it.

As discussed by Kanevsky and Keighley, Jennifer was ‘schooling’ rather than ‘learning’ — thus resulting in stagnated and average results that were far from her potential (Kanevsky and Keighley, 2003: 22). However, the establishment of a caring environment as well as a push to raise the level of challenge in her work, strategies both suggested by Kanevsky and Keighley (2003), culminated to significantly improve Jennifer’s motivation to reach her goal. Furthermore, the positive feedback and targeted prompts to elicit her true ability on assignments stimulated Jennifer’s overall engagement with the curriculum, a key to elevated academic success (Landis and Reschly, 2013). No longer was it Jennifer’s goal simply to pass the FCAT; she made a personal decision to elevate her performance to a level commensurate with her ability. As discussed by Morisano and Shore (2010), establishment of a conscious goal greatly influences the level of effort a person places on achievement of the goal as well as the persistence they are willing to display in overcoming obstacles that may arise along the way. What motivated Jennifer was academic success and, once intensified through personalized engagement and elevated expectations, she was easily able to overcome her period of underachievement and eventually become a shining star not only in my classroom, but across all of her other academic areas as well.

For Jimmy, motivation was extrinsic and related to the pressure he felt from his peer group. Wellisch and Brown (2012) explain that problems with peers may be alleviated by the teacher acknowledging and celebrating the underachiever’s giftedness, which worked for Jennifer; however, Jimmy wanted the exact opposite. He accepted that he was gifted and had high levels of self-efficacy but he did not want his full potential exposed due to the ridicule he had received from his peers in the past. As revealed in the literature, African-American males often struggle with their giftedness and may sabotage or mask their abilities in order to avoid ‘acting white’ or to avoid feeling distanced from their non-gifted family, friends, and/or community (Bonner et al., 2009; Ford et al., 2008).

In Jimmy’s case, he felt punished for being smart, an all too common phenomenon among underserved, minority students – especially African-American males who often internalize guilt for ‘betraying their cultural group’ by adopting norms from the dominant culture (Neihart, 2006: 197). Bonner (2000) builds upon this and explains how many African-American gifted males actually develop self-hatred, lowered self-esteem, and increased anxiety due to their identification – often culminating in lowered academic achievement. To avoid these feelings of punishment and shame, Jimmy willingly chose to reject his potential in order to embrace a persona that wasn’t reflective of his true ability. However, the combination of honoring his area of talent, poetry, as well as respecting his desire to remain covert in his task completion, caused Jimmy to overcome his underachievement just enough to graduate. He never rose to his full potential while in my charge, but he did set himself up for the fresh start that he so intently desired.

Essentially, Jimmy’s coping strategy became code switching. In class, he would put his head down in order to drown out the environment that he so desperately wanted to escape. However, behind the scenes, he was doing what he knew needed to be done in order to escape the constraints he felt trapped within. As discussed by Neihart, ‘helping students engage in open discourse and critique about class, identity, and achievement can be liberating for students struggling with affiliation/achievement conflicts’ (Neihart, 2006: 199). Had Jimmy been unwilling to have a transparent and reflective discussion with me regarding his self-fulfilling prophecy of failure, he would not have been able to navigate the delicate and convoluted road required to reach his goal of earning a high school diploma.

In order to alleviate some of the internal conflict and strife Jimmy was feeling as a gifted African-American male, a significant focus on his affective growth and well-being was an effective approach and one that has proved successful with other secondary and adult students in similar settings and contexts (Peterson, 2001). While he did not give his peers the satisfaction of seeing him walk across the stage at graduation, he took the diploma that he earned to the army and began a new journey, most certainly surrounded by peers who will accept him and hopefully allow him to feel comfortable living in his own skin.

Social acceptance was the crux of Mariah’s struggle to achieve her full potential as well; however, in her case it was not rooted in her ethnicity. As a student living in abject poverty – often in and out of homelessness – Mariah’s task value was placed in working and making money in an attempt to support herself and her family in basic survival, something often the case for high school students in underserved, urban areas (Hebert, 2001). Although highly gifted and proud of her identification, Mariah was no longer interested in ‘playing the game’ of school because she didn’t see value in what it had to offer her outside of time to socialize, ultimately resulting in her underachievement (Peters, 2012: 178).

It has been established that minority gifted students from low socio-economic status often experience lower parental expectations, have poorer general health and nutrition, and underachieve as a function of their poverty (Seeley, 2004). In addition, past studies have shown the negative relationship between adolescent employment and academic performance and the propensity for students with jobs to become more delinquent in school (Hebert, 2001). However, Mariah knew she was smart and that she could survive in the real world and she didn’t use school or her grades to validate her identity. Nonetheless, a focus on employment was not the only factor hindering Mariah’s success. Her desire to fit in socially overwhelmed her ability to shine at her full potential.

Although her peers knew she was gifted and respected her for it, they did not model or support the effective academic behavior that Mariah was avoiding with such diligence. As discussed by McCoach and Siegle, ‘goal valuation is a precursor to motivation and self-regulation’ (McCoach and Siegle, 2003: 151). Mariah’s goal was to feel accepted and loved by her peers. As a result, she placed her value on social skills rather than academic performance. This illustrates the power of peer groups, particularly on gifted underachievers.

Mariah knew she could do better, she wanted to do better, but she couldn’t execute her plan because of the high value she placed on her social group and the negative behavior that they were modeling for her to emulate. As discussed by Reis and McCoach, ‘positive peer interaction contribute[s] to some students’ reversal of underachievement’ (Reis and McCoach, 2000: 160). Had Mariah had this positive level of peer support, her journey might have taken a different route, but this was not the case for her. In fact, it may be this desire to have a strong connection to a peer group that resulted in Mariah’s unwillingness to explore options beyond a traditional completion of high school. It wasn’t until the final week of her senior year, when she knew that her friends were moving onto college and adult life, that she finally considered a new plan: taking the General Educational Development (GED) Test and moving into working full time to support her family. In the end, Mariah didn’t stop underachieving while in my class. However, she did choose to make the best of her situation by utilizing her talents in order to solve her conundrum in a different way – and in that moment, her giftedness was evident not only in her decision to complete school in a different way, but in the results of her actions: she passed at above a college level on her first attempt.

Discussion

As revealed in these three cases, and throughout the literature, there is no single remedy to cure the enigma of gifted underachievement. Nevertheless, if individual interests, motivators, and contextual concerns are taken into consideration, there are approaches that teachers can implement that may improve the situation for these students. However, in order to approach this effectively, teachers must take an important first step: looking at gifted underachievers as potential achievers who are struggling for a specific reason, not just by chance or choice.

In order to best support and uplift gifted underachievers to gifted achievers, we must first remove our tendency to blame the victim, claim rather than relinquish any responsibility we may have in affecting the situation, as well as escape the temptation to view underachievement as a deficit rather than a promise for potential (Ford and Harmon, 2001). In order to do this, we must commit ourselves to learning strategies that may be effective not only for students’ cognitive development but also their affective well-being. Ford et al., (2000) suggest that, ‘many teachers are unprepared to work with students where culture differs from their own and that this lack of understanding often leads to negative perceptions and stereotypes’ (Ford et al., 2000: 398).

Bonner (2000) concurs and claims, ‘without proper training, teachers make judgments based on their own preconceived ideas of what characteristics a gifted student should exhibit’ (Bonner, 2000: 647). It therefore seems incumbent upon educators to ensure that they examine each case of gifted underachievement objectively and from the viewpoint of the student rather than that of the teachers themselves. What may seem like a failure to a teacher, given their life experience and personal expectations, may be a triumph for a student who hails from an underserved community or a different cultural background.

By examining what motivates students, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds, we may be able to re-ignite the passion required to reverse underachievement, particularly in high-ability students (Ambrose, 2002). However, student perspectives also shed light into the possible aspects of an effective mediator for gifted underachievers.

In his case study, Schultz (2002a) provides insight into the needs and desires of two gifted underachievers, Kate and Shawn, and their comments are helpful in understanding what may be effective in lessening the disconnect between these types of students’ potential and performance. In Kate’s words, she explains how having a teacher who ‘knows them’ and provides them ‘room to grow’ was of utmost importance (Schultz, 2002a: 209). This mirrors what each of my students discussed in detail to me during our interviews. Each one commented on how they had felt ‘lost in the system’ or viewed as only a ‘name on a paper’.

These feelings of disconnect between the student and the school may not be what caused the underachievement in the first place, but they are certainly not circumstances that are helpful in ameliorating it. From Shawn’s perspective, he felt that trustworthiness and credibility from his teachers were integral in turning around his underperformance (Schultz, 2002a). Again, this illustrates the need for teachers of the underperforming gifted to build meaningful, affective relationships with their students that focus on the growth and development of the whole student, not just his or her intellectual capability.

In another study, by Speirs-Neumeister and Hebert (2003), a gifted underachiever named Sam discusses the importance of fairness. In this instance, the student indicated that a teacher who is a highly effective, active listener, who is friendly and who treats every student as an individual is actually far more important to many students that the content knowledge that is held by the teacher (Speirs-Neumeister and Hebert, 2003: 234). Again, this emphasizes the need for teachers to view themselves as stewards of growth and development not only in content knowledge but also in interpersonal and social aspects of student behavior and growth. This was clearly evident in my interactions with Jennifer, Jimmy, and Mariah. With Jennifer, she felt empowered that I cared enough to push her to greater heights and that I took the time to give her highly personalized, meaningful feedback on her assignments. With Jimmy, I gained his trust and respect by accepting the situation created by his cultural conflict and working with him to create a plan that met his goals but also valued his intentions.

For Mariah, even when it was clear that her intentions were not going to match her outcomes, I remained positive toward her and continued to push her toward options beyond simply dropping out of high school. With each student, I built a rapport that far exceeded my role as imparter of knowledge and their role as passive receiver of information. Not only did I serve as their English teacher, but I also acted as a mentor, counselor, and catalyst for change in a non-threatening and sincere way.

In the end, there is no single solution that can fix the ongoing dilemma of gifted underachievement. Yet, as shown in this case study, there are themes that emerge as possible starting points and can be molded based on the individual themself. First, a smaller classroom setting or time set aside to meet students individually may allow for a better understanding of a student’s choices and interests; in addition, fostering an effective mentorship with gifted underachievers may work toward the creation of a meaningful relationship with school-related adults, particularly in underserved communities where adult role models and support are often lacking (Landis and Reschly, 2013).

Once this foundation of trust and communication is established, there must be a willingness to have conversations beyond the content of our subject area. As suggested by Neihart (2006), ‘shared discourse and direct instruction in coping strategies may potentially strengthen [underachieving gifted students’] ability to put their experiences in perspective and give them confidence to embrace the […] capital they need for achievement’ (Neihart, 2006: 201). While many educators may want to create and facilitate this shared discourse with students, work often gets in the way, particularly in the current state of high-stakes accountability and evaluative oversight. However, these students deserve our support and cannot afford for us to fail them, so we must create strategies that infuse this type of interaction into the classroom routine.

As discussed by Schultz (2002a), we must work with students rather than on students. None of the outcomes described in this case study would have been possible had I not worked with students in establishing their goals, examining their motivation, and acting as a conduit toward their success. By setting high expectations, fueling motivation and taking into consideration the cultural differences between ourselves and our students, we can make the classroom a more enjoyable and empowering place for everyone, including gifted underachievers; moreover, just as gifted programs should not be one-size-fits-all, neither should our approach to negotiating gifted underachievement (Olszewski-Kubilius, 2003). Every case of underachievement is different and every student deserves an approach that is equitable and fair, based on the student’s circumstances. Perhaps the most effective way to approach this is to commit ourselves to being a caring teacher. As discussed by Kanevsky and Keighley (2003) a caring teacher can significantly enhance and overcome nearly any obstacle or challenge in their classroom. The authors define caring as being non-judgmental, fair, flexible, and humorous, being prepared and enthusiastic in their teaching while using inquiry-based and varying techniques, showing a concern for students’ well-being, and returning assignments promptly – ‘essentially they [make] it clear they want to be teachers’ (Kanevsky and Keighley, 2003: 25). This is a significant factor for educators, but one that may be difficult to recognize or embrace. As teachers we often enter the profession with zest and enthusiasm; basically, the caring teacher. However, as time passes and education becomes more convoluted, we often experience burnout and frustration and we sometimes forget who the victims of our dissatisfaction are: the students. Therefore, just as the key to resolving underachievement may be for students to accept who they are in order to be ready for change, we must do the same ourselves.

Limitations

Researchers have called for deeper examination of underachievement among gifted students, particularly through qualitative studies that give deeper insights into the confounding reasons that stimulate this behavior (McCoach and Siegle, 2003; Schultz, 2002b). A response to that request is this case study: however, while enlightening, it does present with limitations. First, the sample size is extremely small, due to the lack of gifted underachieving population at the research site. Future studies could use a similar qualitative approach with a larger sample. Additionally, as data were collected through observation and interview, the results could be considered subjective. While the themes and attributes of each individual’s underachievement were supported in the literature, future studies could establish deeper protocols to validate better the possible causes of the underachievement and their corresponding interventions. Lastly, the research setting was in an urban, underserved area. Future research could consider multiple settings so that possible themes and frameworks could be developed across urban, suburban, and rural areas as well as between the various levels of socio-economic status.