I never really connected with The Big Bang Theory, so when I learned about the spin-off, my interest was minimal—until I discovered its premise.
For those unfamiliar, The Big Bang Theory centers on the lives of best friends and roommates Sheldon Cooper and Leonard Hofstadter, both physicists at Caltech, along with their neighbor, Penny, a waitress with acting aspirations. The mix of nerdy intellect with a glamorous neighbor leads to comedic situations.
Over the course of 11 seasons, many events have shaped these characters, particularly Sheldon, whose backstory has sparked curiosity about his younger years. Enter Young Sheldon.
This series delves into Sheldon Cooper’s childhood, chronicling his experiences before he became the beloved theoretical physicist we know. It takes us back to when Sheldon was just 9 years old, gearing up for a significant milestone: starting high school. As a child prodigy with a remarkable IQ, he resides in Southeast Texas with his completely typical parents and two average siblings. Naturally, humor is expected to unfold.
Upon watching the preview for Young Sheldon, I found myself struggling to hold back tears. Isn’t this supposed to be a comedy? While the creators aim to evoke laughter along with occasional emotional moments, the trailer struck a personal chord with me.
You see, I have a son who mirrors many of Sheldon’s traits. At 6 years old, he isn’t quite ready for high school (thank goodness), and while I believe his IQ isn’t on par with Young Sheldon’s, they share numerous similarities.
He doesn’t engage in typical play with trains or sports unless he can relate it to science. His unique quirks often drive me to distraction, reminiscent of Sheldon’s germaphobia and how it frustrates his father. My son remains blissfully unaware that his intelligence might make him a target for teasing or, worse, leave him feeling isolated and misunderstood.
(Cue the waterworks.) When I saw the scene where Mary Cooper prays for her son in the car on the way to his first day of high school, I lost it. That moment encapsulates the heartbreaking dilemmas moms like Mary (and myself) face. By nurturing our children’s interests and talents, we often place them in situations that aren’t age-appropriate. Yet, if we don’t encourage their intellectual pursuits, we’re essentially telling them that their passions and identities are wrong. You just push ahead, trying to make the best decisions, and suddenly you find yourself driving a 9-year-old to his first day of ninth grade, praying he won’t get stuffed into a gym bag.
This is why I sincerely hope people tune in to Young Sheldon and that it fulfills its promise to entertain while also offering insight into the lives of kids like mine.
Mary is an everywoman, a devoted mother, and a faithful churchgoer. She has three wonderful children she raises with equal love, but one of them stands apart. I doubt Mary intended to “raise a genius.” She doesn’t seem like the type to adhere to specific diets for brain optimization or push her children to accelerate their education. No, she’s simply a normal woman doing her best with the children she has, trying to keep pace with one who exceeds her expectations.
In many ways, I see myself as Mary.
When she prays for her son en route to high school, I can relate because I have prayed a similar prayer for mine on his first day of kindergarten. “Please, Lord, let his peers be kind. Don’t let him be bullied or ostracized. Don’t let them see him as a weirdo.”
When Sheldon makes inappropriate comments in class, I feel it deeply. My son has done the same, albeit in his unique fashion. When teachers gather to express concerns about him, I wince, as this is a nightmare scenario for any parent of a child like mine.
The reality is that our educational system struggles to accommodate these exceptional kids. Not every teacher or principal embraces advanced curricula or grade skipping, and not all educators recognize the need for specialized programs. I understand the challenges—there’s often limited funding for “gifted” programs, and how can one develop resources without the necessary finances? Furthermore, why allocate funds to children who aren’t struggling? These kids are excelling, after all. What could possibly go wrong for a child who is more intelligent than their classmates?
Part of the issue lies in the label “gifted.” Every parent wants to believe their child is exceptional, right? It feels wonderful to have a child who excels academically, wins competitions, or achieves high honors. But that’s not Sheldon Cooper, and it’s not my son.
The smartest child in the class might achieve perfect grades and graduate at the top, while the brightest child in the district could be the lonely 9-year-old in ninth grade or the clinically depressed 9-year-old stuck in fourth grade.
People generally know how to handle the top student, but there’s little guidance for a child who is two or more grade levels ahead. No one, including parents, knows how to cope with a young child discussing human reproduction casually after reading anatomy books since age 4. No one, especially his mother, knows how to manage a boy who prefers reading over outdoor play. Should I forcibly take away his organic chemistry book and push him outside daily, or would it be better to show him love as he is, saving outdoor activities for another time?
This is what I hope Young Sheldon conveys this season: the challenges of parenting profoundly gifted children in a world that often doesn’t understand them.
Our society places immense value on academic success—perhaps too much. It’s hard for many to grasp that an exceptional intellect can lead to profound loneliness and isn’t always enviable. We know Sheldon’s story has a happy ending because the creators have laid out his journey. He finds friends at Caltech, a loving partner, and a life filled with people who appreciate him for who he is. He doesn’t live out his days isolated in his hometown. But my son? The odds of him finding kindred spirits are slim.
Raising a child with an extraordinary mind is isolating, and the chances of encountering other parents with similar experiences seem daunting. I empathize deeply with Mary Cooper, striving to nurture her son without a community of kids or parents who understand. From the clips I’ve seen, the lack of understanding in their community appears to be a core theme. It’s often amusing to observe, but for those like Sheldon or Mary, it can feel painfully lonely.
I eagerly anticipate the premiere of Young Sheldon next week (Monday, September 25, at 8:30/7:30c). The cast looks promising, and Iain Armitage is simply delightful. More importantly, I hope the show resonates with parents like me. My wish is that others will gain insight from it, recognizing that remarkable academic achievement is not without its challenges. I hope educators and lawmakers recognize the necessity for better resources for these kids, understanding that exceptional minds can either flourish or fade away. The choice is ours. Perhaps, if enough people watch and share the message, my son will find others who truly understand him and never face the humiliation of being shoved into a gym bag.