Confessions of a Mediocre Student
December 22, 2008
Last week I walked into my philosophy professor's office hour to talk about a few things, and during the course of the conversation, she suggested that I'm the type of person who ought to go on for a PhD. Of course, the fact that I'm already behind most of my peers in finishing my undergrad degree is typically the reason I don't spend much time thinking about such lofty goals. A few months ago a friend and former co-worker asked if I had ever taken an IQ test because she really wanted to know my score. The point of all of this isn't to brag. Frankly, I don't have a whole lot to brag about when it comes to academics; I go to a fairly mediocre school and get pretty mediocre grades. My transcript doesn't have anything particularly exciting on it. My GPA is pretty decent, but not nearly a perfect 4.0; if I were to take a standardized test for graduate school, I'd probably score right in the middle, but not off the charts.
I have always questioned the idea that school, education, and knowledge are perfectly synonymous. Back in high school, there were people who took pride in the fact that they didn't learn much of anything in their classes; but they stilled pulled off a 4.0 GPA. I figured out earlier than most that you don't have to rely exclusively on classes to learn - I joined the policy debate team, spent most of my free time cutting evidence and preparing for tournaments, and in the end I know I am confident that I learned more from that activity than most of my peers ever learned from high school. You might not know it, of course, since my GPA was about average for the typical student at my high school. Nor would you have been able to tell from my SAT scores, which again, were incredibly mediocre. But if it's true that standardized test scores can be improved through rigorous practice sessions, or taking drugs like Ritalin and Adderall, then these tests might be less standardized than you'd typically think.
Even college often feels more about bureaucracy and technicalities than any real quest for knowledge. I was recently reminded about this while trying to enroll in an upper-level math course. I wasn't able to register using the university's online system because there was a concern over whether I had completed the necessary prerequisite. Before transferring to my current school, I had taken two semesters of college level calculus and a semester of statistics. In trying to determine whether I had satisfied the arbitrary prerequisite for this course, there was a lot of debate over what prerequisite courses I had taken, but no one ever bothered to ask the obvious question: do you understand the material?
For me, my transcript is a poor reflection of my overall achievement because it only tells you what happened inside the halls of academia, which I believe is itself a weak indicator of what I've learned, what I know, or the skills I possess. I don't mean to suggest that college courses have been of no value; but unfortunately, many of them have been boring and dull, with more focus on "whats going to be on the test" than "how will this impact my life". I have a difficult time pouring my heart into essays on seemingly random topics with arbitrary length requirements; or cramming for poorly constructed multiple-choice exams. Some of the most valuable things I've learned over the past few years came from the books I read on my own, from the people I worked alongside at internships, from magazines and articles I read on the bus on my way to and from work, and from off-the-record conversations with some incredibly intelligent professors during office hours. Some of my best essays aren't papers I wrote for classes, they are pieces I posted right here on Extraordinary Observations - and none of these things are reflected on any of my academic transcripts.
Malcolm Gladwell's newest piece in The New Yorker suggests that traditional means of evaluating talent may be flawed; and that it's difficult to determine who will be a good NFL quarterback or high school teacher or investment adviser before we actually give them a chance to prove themselves. By that token, I think I speak for other mediocre students in the world when I say that we might not have Ivy League credentials or a 4.0 GPA, but that doesn't mean we aren't just as passionate or knowledgeable on certain topics; nor does it mean we are any lazy or apathetic. In fact, that time not spent on trivial busywork and academic technicalities may have actually been put to good use. You might be surprised when you actually get to know someone, even if they are a mediocre student.
I have always questioned the idea that school, education, and knowledge are perfectly synonymous. Back in high school, there were people who took pride in the fact that they didn't learn much of anything in their classes; but they stilled pulled off a 4.0 GPA. I figured out earlier than most that you don't have to rely exclusively on classes to learn - I joined the policy debate team, spent most of my free time cutting evidence and preparing for tournaments, and in the end I know I am confident that I learned more from that activity than most of my peers ever learned from high school. You might not know it, of course, since my GPA was about average for the typical student at my high school. Nor would you have been able to tell from my SAT scores, which again, were incredibly mediocre. But if it's true that standardized test scores can be improved through rigorous practice sessions, or taking drugs like Ritalin and Adderall, then these tests might be less standardized than you'd typically think.
Even college often feels more about bureaucracy and technicalities than any real quest for knowledge. I was recently reminded about this while trying to enroll in an upper-level math course. I wasn't able to register using the university's online system because there was a concern over whether I had completed the necessary prerequisite. Before transferring to my current school, I had taken two semesters of college level calculus and a semester of statistics. In trying to determine whether I had satisfied the arbitrary prerequisite for this course, there was a lot of debate over what prerequisite courses I had taken, but no one ever bothered to ask the obvious question: do you understand the material?
For me, my transcript is a poor reflection of my overall achievement because it only tells you what happened inside the halls of academia, which I believe is itself a weak indicator of what I've learned, what I know, or the skills I possess. I don't mean to suggest that college courses have been of no value; but unfortunately, many of them have been boring and dull, with more focus on "whats going to be on the test" than "how will this impact my life". I have a difficult time pouring my heart into essays on seemingly random topics with arbitrary length requirements; or cramming for poorly constructed multiple-choice exams. Some of the most valuable things I've learned over the past few years came from the books I read on my own, from the people I worked alongside at internships, from magazines and articles I read on the bus on my way to and from work, and from off-the-record conversations with some incredibly intelligent professors during office hours. Some of my best essays aren't papers I wrote for classes, they are pieces I posted right here on Extraordinary Observations - and none of these things are reflected on any of my academic transcripts.
Malcolm Gladwell's newest piece in The New Yorker suggests that traditional means of evaluating talent may be flawed; and that it's difficult to determine who will be a good NFL quarterback or high school teacher or investment adviser before we actually give them a chance to prove themselves. By that token, I think I speak for other mediocre students in the world when I say that we might not have Ivy League credentials or a 4.0 GPA, but that doesn't mean we aren't just as passionate or knowledgeable on certain topics; nor does it mean we are any lazy or apathetic. In fact, that time not spent on trivial busywork and academic technicalities may have actually been put to good use. You might be surprised when you actually get to know someone, even if they are a mediocre student.
Preach it, brother Rob.
Mediocre students unite with a high intellectual capacity unite.
I meant to say "mediocre students with a high intellectual capacity unite."
Maybe I was a mediocre student in college for a reason, after all.
I definitely agree that what happens in the classroom alone is a poor indicator of your intellectual capacity, and it's a shame that our education system is set up in a way that favors bureaucracy over actual learning. Great post.
One of my favorite entries. Nice work.
Also, thanks for the shout-out in paragraph 4 "...from the people I worked alongside at internships..."
Matt, Nisha, thanks for your comments!
Bubba, you are correct, I literally did work alongside you for a while.
The problem of course, is that these days college is mostly a credentialing service, and in that sense, how well you do matters (as I'm finding out myself).
(Here via Daniel's blog)
This post reminded me of what a former dean of the JCU Business School--Frank Navratil, who still teaches there--once told me. He said there's a saying among biz school deans that the A students will teach the B students how to work for the C students. That saying makes your same point in a different way. Grades aren't what really count. It's learning that matters.