Flowers for Algernon: Lessons for Educators of Exceptional Children

Introduction: The Two Poles of Intellectual Exceptionalism

The divide between what is considered normal can be as cataclysmic for a gifted child as it is for a developmentally delayed child. Such is the lesson conveyed by Flowers for Algernon. The book details the story of a young, mentally handicapped man named Charlie Gordon, who becomes the subject of an intelligence experiment conducted by a group of researchers. The researchers have previously enhanced the intelligence of a mouse — the Algernon of the title — so that it is capable of beating Charlie at a series of intelligence tests. Charlie volunteers to be the first human subject of such intellectual enhancement experimentation. Eventually the experiment fails, and Charlie reverts to his original mental state after showing striking progress. Although the book is science fiction, Charlie's experiences at both polar-opposite ends of what constitutes intelligence demonstrate the striking similarities, as well as the differences, in dealing with the education and socialization of an intellectually exceptional individual.

One of the most striking aspects of Charlie's mental and social journey is the sense of profound isolation that surrounds him at both poles of his intellectual progression. The researchers do not anticipate this isolation at first, although they later grudgingly admit: "This experiment was calculated to raise your intelligence, not to make you popular. We had no control over what happened to your personality" (Keyes, p. 172). Personality and human needs are absent from the researchers' immediate concerns when they embark upon the experiment. At first, they see only the science and the implications for humanity in the far, rather than near, future.

Isolation and the Neglect of Immediate Needs

A lack of concern for the here and now, combined with too much focus on a child's projected future, may be one of the first traps a family falls into when learning of a child's special needs or exceptional intelligence. The parents of a gifted child may envision that they have given birth to a potential Nobel Prize winner, while the parents of a child with a mental handicap might worry about what will happen to the child when they are gone. The immediate and future needs of the individual — not one or the other — must be the combined focus of both family and school system.

Another important aspect of supporting the development of a special needs child is peer socialization. In Flowers for Algernon, the researchers give little thought to this factor at first. Even the mouse is reared in isolation from fellow creatures, confined to the hermetically sealed environment of the laboratory and kept away from the needs and demands of the real world. With an IQ of 68, Charlie is similarly isolated in real life — a figure of fun whose only "friends" are the people who mock him at the bakery where he sweeps the floor.

Peer Socialization and the Lessons of Charlie's Social Life

When Charlie goes to a bar with his so-called friends, they do not regard him as a potential true friend or romantic prospect; instead, they mock his halting intellect and clumsy speech and movements. Tragically, at the beginning of the book, Charlie's only sense of connection with others comes from being an object of ridicule: "Joe Carp and Frank Reilly invited me to go with them after work to Hallorans Bar for some drinks. I dont like to drink wiskey but they said we will have lots of fun. I had a good time" (Keyes, p. 21).

Charlie goes along with this ridicule partly out of ignorance and partly to feel some sense of human connection. Yet even after his intellectual enlightenment, peace still eludes him, as does any meaningful social life: "I went down to Murray's Bar and had a few drinks. And then I called Fay and we made the rounds" (Keyes, p. 161). His drive and intelligence do not give him the tools to connect with true friends, because he was never taught how to do so during his earlier life. Charlie stands aloof even while wearing the hard-won mantle of his new intelligence, much like an intellectually isolated but gifted child.

Charlie's earlier socialization experiences also illustrate the difficulty that some developmentally delayed children face in forming real social relationships when overly protective parents isolate them during crucial stages of emotional development, leaving them no opportunity to learn social cues from peers. This is why neither the bar nor any other gathering of people provides Charlie with social solace, before or after the experiment. He bitterly resents a past that taught him nothing about how to deal with people normally: "Such people think nothing of abusing a man born with low intelligence. It infuriated me to remember that not too long ago — like this boy — I had foolishly played along," he says, upon witnessing a young man with an intellectual disability being similarly abused (Keyes, p. 139).

Conclusion: Educating the Whole Child

Charlie sees himself not just as a subject of an experiment but as a subjective being, regardless of his level of intellect. Like every other child, regardless of IQ, Charlie wishes to be fulfilled rather than lopsided in all areas of existence. He wishes to be fully human — not merely a mouse trapped in a maze or a person reduced to a number. The educational system and the support network provided to all exceptional students must answer the same craving at the heart of every child: to feel both specially regarded in terms of individual needs, and also normal — a genuine part of a peer group and a family.

The novel ultimately calls on educators, researchers, and parents to recognize that gifted education and special needs education share a common obligation — to see the child whole, and to nurture social and emotional growth alongside intellectual development.

Keyes, Daniel. Flowers for Algernon. London: Millennium Masterworks SF, 2000.