I didn't really stand a chance. My best friend growing up (Ian) was a genius, and my brother (Ben) was a musical prodigy. I was destined to perseverate on my own intellectual capacity. Thinking back, it's shameful how much time I wasted wondering, "How smart am I?" The problem was, I didn't realize I was asking the wrong question. Sadly, I didn't realize that fact for far too long, which means I wasted a lot of valuable mental energy. Instead, I should have been asking myself:
- What are my strengths?
- How can I develop them?
- What can I do to overcome my limitations?
I think it's safe to say that kids are constantly comparing themselves to each other. I'm not sure why, but it happens, and it seems to assume inordinate urgency and strength during the teenage years. Who is the fastest? Who is the smartest? Who's most likely to succeed in life? Who is the most popular? Et cetera, etc cetera...ad nauseam!
Grade School
I certainly wasn't any different. In grade school, there was a select group of students who were in the Talented and Gifted (TAG) program. They met periodically to receive supplemental instruction on advanced topics. I don't remember the requirements for joining the group, but they were probably selected on the basis of their performance on a standardized test (e.g., the Iowa Test of Basic Skills). I wasn't selected to be a part of TAG, but my parents convinced the teachers to let me join. I didn't know it at the time, but this was going to establish a mindset for me going forward. I was smart...but not quite smart enough. I was right on the cusp between the highly intellectual kids and everyone else.
Junior High
When I got to junior high, I enrolled in the college-track classes. I knew, and my parents knew, that I wasn't going the vocational route. The same was true for most of my friends. The kids I hung out with also saw themselves eventually going to college. It didn't really seem like a question of "if", but more a question of "where?"
When I got to eighth grade, I was offered the chance to take a foreign language at the high school. This was a really big deal for me because both of my parents are of German descent, and my mom even remembers her Grandfather speaking German. I was very excited by the prospect of taking an advanced course to learn a language that some of my family spoke. Starting a year early would accelerate my foreign language requirement.
The other surprise for me in junior high came when I received my first grade card. I got all A's! I didn't know I could do it, and I wondered if I could do it again? Sure enough, I was able to maintain my 4.0 GPA through the first half of seventh grade. Something clicked in my brain. I slowly began to see myself as a "straight-A student." This experience created another mindset that would come back to bite me (hard!) in the future.
High School
In high school, I enrolled in the college-track classes; however, I watched my friends pull ahead of me by taking Advanced Placement (AP) courses. These classes were designed to have the rigor and content of college freshman courses, and you also earned both high school and college credit. In other words, my friends were basically starting college early. Again, I was right on the cusp. My ACT scores better than average, but they were not high enough for eligibility into any of the AP courses.
I maintained a 4.0 GPA throughout high school, and when it was time to apply for college, my parents taught me a very hard life lesson. They told me, in no uncertain terms, that I could attend any college, any one I want, as long as I paid for it. They suspected I would be eligible for scholarships and grants (based on my outstanding grades), and they also explained that I could take out a student loan. I couldn't believe it. For some dumb reason, I never really considered that I was going to have to pay for college. I guess I was more entitled than I thought.
College
After the initial shock, I decided I had exactly one option: the local university. I grew up in Bowling Green, Ohio, and I decided I was going to attend Bowling Green State University (BGSU) as a freshman in the fall of 1994. I applied and was accepted into their Honors program. I wasn't really surprised I got into BGSU (their standards aren't that high), but I was extremely happy I made it into the Honors College.
I'm probably weird in this regard, but I knew exactly what I wanted to major in: Psychology. Ian's dad (Jack) was in the psych department, and his mom (Barb) was in the computer science department. I met with Jack to get his advice on navigating the waters as a college freshman. He gave me the best piece of advice I could ever hope for in that moment. He told me "society has given me a gift." For the next four years, I can study whatever I want. There aren't any expectations (other than to graduate), and I should follow my interests. On the basis of his sage advice, I declared Psychology as my major with a cognate minor. A "cognate minor" meant I could basically take any course I wanted, as long as it fit within a fairly wide set of parameters.
The Downfall of a Fixed Mindset
Unfortunately, I approached college with two fundamentally flawed mindsets. First, I believed people were born with a fixed intelligence, and there was nothing you could do to improve your lot in life. You either had it or you didn't. I knew where I stood on that metric all too well. Second, I was a straight-A student. As it turns out, this is a deadly combination because it meant that my decision process, when selecting classes, was to take courses I knew I could ace. So...I enrolled in a chemistry course that was below my achievement level because I was playing it safe. Instead of stretching myself, I wasted my time (and money, since I was paying) relearning what I already knew from high school. I did this just to protect my grade-point average and my pathetically frail ego.
Eventually, my ship ran aground. I got B's in both Sociology and Physics. My 4.0 GPA was wrecked, and I was crushed. In the end, however, this was the greatest thing that ever could have happened. Because I didn't have to maintain a perfect grade-point average, I was suddenly willing to take a risk in selecting challenging courses. I even signed up for two grad-level courses as a senior. Paradoxically, by stretching myself, I was finding out (slowly) that I was capable of much more than I gave myself credit for.
Grad School
I didn't fully embrace the idea that learning does not equal grades until my second year of grad school. I didn't even open my report card because I honestly didn't care what I got. I knew I had learned a tremendous amount in an insanely short amount of time. I didn't need a bunch of letters to tell me that. Instead, my mind was focused on the real prize–something far more valuable (and elusive)...a PhD! 🎓
