Identity and Belonging
What This Theme Explores
Ungifted probes how labels like “gifted” and “normal” shape, constrain, and sometimes liberate identity. The novel asks whether who we are is measured by scores and credentials, or forged through choices, relationships, and lived experience. It suggests belonging is less about fitting a category than about finding (or building) a community that recognizes diverse kinds of value. Ultimately, it argues for identities that are layered and self-determined rather than imposed and singular.
How It Develops
Identity and belonging first fracture when Donovan Curtis is mistakenly placed at the Academy for Scholastic Distinction. A self-styled troublemaker from Hardcastle, he arrives as an outsider whose skills don’t register in a place calibrated for testable brilliance. The Academy kids—especially Chloe Garfinkle and Noah Youkilis—carry the security and burden of a group identity that confers status while isolating them from “normal” adolescence.
In the middle stretch, the robotics team becomes a crucible where identities blur and recombine. Donovan contributes in ways the Academy doesn’t quantify—naming, humanizing, and skillfully driving Tin Man—while Chloe’s longing for typical teen life and Noah’s rejection of the “genius” label intensify. The Valentine Dance exposes the social boundary lines between Hardcastle and the Academy—and shows Donovan’s loyalties shifting as he defends classmates who were never “his” people until now.
By the end, exposure ejects Donovan back to Hardcastle, only for him to discover he no longer fully belongs there either. The resolution is deliberately hybrid: Donovan and Noah retain ties to both worlds, attending Hardcastle while joining the Academy’s robotics program. Belonging emerges not from a school’s name or a single trait, but from a community flexible enough to honor multiple kinds of contribution.
Key Examples
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Donovan’s First Culture Shock: Donovan’s arrival at the Academy throws his “ungifted” identity into stark relief against a culture that assumes belonging can be proven on paper. Chloe’s push to include him complicates this binary—she challenges him to see himself as part of the group even as he resists that label.
“All I’m saying is that you brainiacs have a nice racket going here.” I skewered him on that point. “Don’t you mean we brainiacs? You’re one of us now.” “Right,” he agreed, flustered. “But—well, I just got here, so you’ve been riding the gravy train longer.” (Chapter 1-5 Summary) This exchange reframes belonging as an invitation, not a test score, and hints that identity can be renegotiated in dialogue with others.
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Chloe’s Hunger for “Normal”: Chloe’s advocacy for everyday teen rituals reveals the cost of a rigid “gifted” identity—excellence without social breadth. Her push to create events like a dance is less rebellion than pursuit of wholeness.
“Okay, so it doesn’t have to be a dance,” I told Abigail. “But why can’t it be something? Every day millions of kids around this country do millions of normal activities, and they have a great time at it. Why can’t we?” (Chapter 1-5 Summary) By naming “normal” as something the Academy can choose to adopt, Chloe shows identity is an ecosystem, not a box.
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Noah’s Revolt Against “Genius”: Noah tries to tank his grades to escape the suffocating expectation that his IQ defines him. He reaches for internet culture and wrestling—worlds he discovers through Donovan—to diversify his sense of self.
“You’ve been blessed with an incredible gift, and you’re wasting it!” Oz was constantly telling me. “You should be getting a hundred percent on everything!” He wanted me to admit that I got 4 out of 35 on purpose... That was missing the point entirely. To me this stuff was all so easy that 4 out of 35 and 35 out of 35 were really the same thing. (Chapter 6-10 Summary) Noah’s “failure” is strategic identity-making: he rejects a metric that erases nuance, choosing belonging over performance.
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The Valentine Dance Showdown: The dance transforms into a social stress test, pitting Hardcastle’s “cool” against the Academy’s “nerd.” When The Daniels target Abigail Lee, Donovan sides with the Academy, signaling that belonging is now relational (who he stands with), not institutional (where he’s enrolled). (Chapter 16-20 Summary) The moment collapses the gifted/ungifted binary by foregrounding loyalty and respect as the real currency of group identity.
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Dislocation at Hardcastle: After expulsion from the Academy, Donovan confronts the hollowness of returning “where he belongs.” Hardcastle’s environment suddenly feels too small, exposing how he has changed.
Nussbaum grinned appreciatively. “Good to have you back where you belong.” Where I belong. I looked at the gray, dreary hulk of Hardcastle Middle School, and felt deeply bummed that he was probably right. (Chapter 26-30 Summary) The line “Where I belong” turns ironic, undercutting the idea that belonging can be assigned from the outside.
Character Connections
Donovan Curtis’s arc reframes “ungifted” as differently gifted. He cannot compete on tests, but his instincts, empathy, and joystick finesse make him indispensable to the robotics team and social glue for a fragmented class. By choosing the Academy students in public and continuing to contribute after his exposure, he anchors belonging in action and loyalty, not labels.
Chloe Garfinkle embodies the tension between achievement and adolescence. Her advocacy for dances and ordinary fun isn’t a rejection of her intellect; it’s a refusal to let one label collapse her identity. Through friendship with Donovan, she learns to hold both truths—to be brilliant and still claim a full social life—modeling a balanced belonging.
Noah Youkilis’s defiance of the “genius” script dramatizes the costs of narrow identity. He pushes back against excellence-as-obligation, seeking communities where curiosity can be playful, not pressured. His choice to attend Hardcastle while staying connected to robotics asserts that self-authorship—not institutional sorting—creates durable belonging.
Abigail Lee initially polices the boundaries of the Academy’s identity, seeing Donovan as contamination to a merit-based order. Yet her quiet decision to help him pass a retest reveals a more complex allegiance—to shared success and to the person Donovan has proven himself to be. Abigail’s shift suggests that even gatekeepers can redefine integrity as inclusion.
Symbolic Elements
The Academy for Scholastic Distinction symbolizes an identity manufactured by selectivity—sleek, pristine, and buffered from messiness. Its isolation confers safety and status, but at the cost of narrowness; the school must be reimagined to make room for lives beyond metrics.
Hardcastle Middle School stands for the “normal” world: loud, worn, and organized by social power rather than intellectual merit. As Donovan outgrows it and Academy students yearn toward it, Hardcastle becomes a measure of what each group lacks—and a reminder that neither world is complete on its own.
Tin Man Metallica Squarepants functions as the emblem of blended belonging. Built by intellect but animated by Donovan’s naming, humor, and driving, the robot is a community artifact—proving that a team’s identity expands when it values every kind of contribution.
Contemporary Relevance
Ungifted resonates in an era of standardized testing, AP arms races, and online performance where identity is often equated with metrics and follower counts. The novel speaks to imposter syndrome—walking into elite spaces and waiting to be unmasked—and to the fatigue of wearing a single, optimized persona. It also models how hybrid communities (clubs, teams, online groups) can offer real belonging by validating multiple strengths. In a culture that rewards specialization, Korman argues for integrated selves and porous borders between “types” of people.
Essential Quote
“Don’t you mean we brainiacs? You’re one of us now.”
In six words, Chloe converts identity from a label to a relationship: belonging begins with “we.” The line reframes Donovan’s status as something conferred through acceptance and participation, not credentials—capturing the novel’s insistence that communities create identity as much as individuals do.