My Secret
Can I tell you a secret?
It's not a "real" secret. A "real" secret would be something that no one else knows, and I'm not terribly likely to spill something like that on the Internets any time soon.
(Ha! I'm babbling.)
My secret is this:
I am a Mensan.
A few of my dear readers out there know this already. Someone probably just thought, "A what?" And someone else thought, "You?!"
From the Mensa International website:
When I was younger, I actually qualified without knowing what that meant at the time. (I was given several IQ tests when I was in elementary school. I don't say this to brag so much to point out that there is no such thing as a normal childhood; looking back, I think there was some question as to whether I was gifted or autistic.) When I was in college, I thought about testing again but could never justify the money that would be spent if I qualified.
In the fall of 2007, I decided to try the home test. It's a "fun" test, not a qualifier, aimed at providing some feedback as to whether or not the person in question would pass the qualifying tests. Nerd that I am, I actually enjoyed the home test. The results were more or less what I expected -- yes, I should try the real one.
So a month or so later, in October, I made the drive down to Madison on Mensa Testing Day -- the one day each year that all the local groups test. There were ten of us in the room that day (including the proctors), all looking at each other and wondering, "Do I really fit in with these people?"
There was a teacher in there, a stay-at-home mom, a fellow engineer, a college student, a mechanic, and at least one guy that was living at home with his parents (I have no idea what his occupational title is/was). And those were the people that spoke up. The rest of us listened quietly, either too reserved or too shy to join in.
The test quickly proved itself to be nothing like the home test. There were somewhat similar parts, but the questions were harder, more off-the-wall, and three times as long. It was a mindbending, exhausting experience.
When we all stepped out of the library, there was a brief gathering in the parking lot to chat about the test. It turned out that one of the association questions had made little to no sense to any of us -- but we had all answered it the exact same way, for the exact same reason. It was uncanny ... Either we were all in -- or we were all out.
A few short weeks later, I got my letter in the mail. I had been accepted. Now I had only to fill out some forms and pay dues and I would be in.
And I did.
Now, I can actually claim to be a Mensan. It's pretty neat. I have a card that says I have a high IQ. I have a built-in network of interesting people in all sorts of walks of life around the globe. Unfortunately, my local chapter isn't terribly active in this area of the state (there's a lot that goes on in southern and eastern Wisconsin, but not a lot in the north or middle of the state, where I am) so my participation up till now has been minimal.
The only reason I'm telling you all of this is that it falls in with my New Year's plans. As much as I love hanging out with my coworkers (really -- they're a neat bunch of people) I need to dig in and find some other friends as well. And I realized that Mensa is one potential source. Alas, this will probably mean having to start something up here, since it is largely a do-it-yourself organization.
Which means I need to fulfill some other New Year's goals. Like being less lazy and more focused.
Three in one! Look at that.
Anyway, that's the end of my Mensa story. Maybe now that I've finally admitted it here I'll have more willingness to go out and get more involved. We'll see.
For now, I have bread to bake and cleaning to do. It's still a typical Saturday.
It's not a "real" secret. A "real" secret would be something that no one else knows, and I'm not terribly likely to spill something like that on the Internets any time soon.
(Ha! I'm babbling.)
My secret is this:
I am a Mensan.
A few of my dear readers out there know this already. Someone probably just thought, "A what?" And someone else thought, "You?!"
From the Mensa International website:
Mensa was founded in England in 1946 by Roland Berrill, a barrister, and Dr. Lance Ware, a scientist and lawyer. They had the idea of forming a society for bright people, the only qualification for membership of which was a high IQ. The original aims were, as they are today, to create a society that is non-political and free from all racial or religious distinctions. The society welcomes people from every walk of life whose IQ is in the top 2% of the population, with the objective of enjoying each other's company and participating in a wide range of social and cultural activities.
When I was younger, I actually qualified without knowing what that meant at the time. (I was given several IQ tests when I was in elementary school. I don't say this to brag so much to point out that there is no such thing as a normal childhood; looking back, I think there was some question as to whether I was gifted or autistic.) When I was in college, I thought about testing again but could never justify the money that would be spent if I qualified.
In the fall of 2007, I decided to try the home test. It's a "fun" test, not a qualifier, aimed at providing some feedback as to whether or not the person in question would pass the qualifying tests. Nerd that I am, I actually enjoyed the home test. The results were more or less what I expected -- yes, I should try the real one.
So a month or so later, in October, I made the drive down to Madison on Mensa Testing Day -- the one day each year that all the local groups test. There were ten of us in the room that day (including the proctors), all looking at each other and wondering, "Do I really fit in with these people?"
There was a teacher in there, a stay-at-home mom, a fellow engineer, a college student, a mechanic, and at least one guy that was living at home with his parents (I have no idea what his occupational title is/was). And those were the people that spoke up. The rest of us listened quietly, either too reserved or too shy to join in.
The test quickly proved itself to be nothing like the home test. There were somewhat similar parts, but the questions were harder, more off-the-wall, and three times as long. It was a mindbending, exhausting experience.
When we all stepped out of the library, there was a brief gathering in the parking lot to chat about the test. It turned out that one of the association questions had made little to no sense to any of us -- but we had all answered it the exact same way, for the exact same reason. It was uncanny ... Either we were all in -- or we were all out.
A few short weeks later, I got my letter in the mail. I had been accepted. Now I had only to fill out some forms and pay dues and I would be in.
And I did.
Now, I can actually claim to be a Mensan. It's pretty neat. I have a card that says I have a high IQ. I have a built-in network of interesting people in all sorts of walks of life around the globe. Unfortunately, my local chapter isn't terribly active in this area of the state (there's a lot that goes on in southern and eastern Wisconsin, but not a lot in the north or middle of the state, where I am) so my participation up till now has been minimal.
The only reason I'm telling you all of this is that it falls in with my New Year's plans. As much as I love hanging out with my coworkers (really -- they're a neat bunch of people) I need to dig in and find some other friends as well. And I realized that Mensa is one potential source. Alas, this will probably mean having to start something up here, since it is largely a do-it-yourself organization.
Which means I need to fulfill some other New Year's goals. Like being less lazy and more focused.
Three in one! Look at that.
Anyway, that's the end of my Mensa story. Maybe now that I've finally admitted it here I'll have more willingness to go out and get more involved. We'll see.
For now, I have bread to bake and cleaning to do. It's still a typical Saturday.
Comments