[The David]

A journal entry from the other week:

I have discovered the joy of learning. And the funny thing is, it wasn't where I thought it was. In fact, it wasn't even close.

Flashback to high school: I only had one year of formal education at the time of my graduation, of course, but that one year was special. It was the year I found a new way to mask the insecurities that had previously been masked by just avoiding society completely. It was the year I discovered perfectionism.

I was never a stranger to it, but during that year I became very intimate with it. Maybe it was because there were so many people watching me. Maybe it was because the attention I had previously received was now divided among an entire class. I will not pretend it was any of those things, because I know exactly what the reason was. It was that magical letter that was written to me every six weeks, telling me that I was not a complete failure of a human being. It was report cards.

It was worse than perfectionism. I didn't even accomplish as much as other perfectionists do. I essentially ended high school with a 0.34. That's not my GPA, mind you, but the difference between my GPA and perfection (since we now have 'weighted GPA', perfection isn't even enough. You have to be perfect at the right things). That seemed to matter almost as much. In college, I forgave myself for my 3.65. All that mattered was that I be perfect in college.

Of course, that didn't work either. Perfectionism only goes so far, and for me, the limit seems to be a 3.65. Sure enough, I did no better in college. In fact, I did even worse. I made two Bs (Bad) and four As (Almost good enough). I now had a 3.64.

I went into this semester of college with the intention that I would make straight As because I wanted to do well, but that I would be more forgiving of myself. That lasted about two days. Yes, two days into the semester I was already afraid that I would do poorly.

I have high expectations of myself in every area of life. It bothered me to realize that so many people under much worse circumstances are doing so much better than I am. They make straight As, get into elite schools, and get scholarships, no matter how bad the odds are. I always considered myself to be very intelligent and never understood why my intellect was stagnating. Well, the answer was pretty much "Duh, you aren't doing anything with it". Having that concrete grading scale to measure myself against makes it unnecessary to actually enjoy school. Students can take 15 hours of lower-level courses, basically just regurgitate information and come out pretending like they have accomplished something, with a paper to prove it.

Then I started thinking. How important are grades? I could cheat to get an A. I could work really hard and get a B, if I had a tough course or a bad teacher. Putting any moral standards aside, I would still choose the latter, so obviously, grades are not my top priority. Still, learning was not at the top, either. I was still using education to keep my ego intact.

I knew I could not make it through the semester carrying this sort of baggage. I wrote everything out on paper that I had been thinking; why I was willing to compromise my intellect but unwilling to accept the grades that such compromise deserves, and why it was not enough simply to do the best I could do. In truth, it is much harder to learn in school than it is to simply have my ego stroked. Realizing this led to a sort of emotional breakdown. Not the collapse-into-tears type of breakdown, but that familiar feeling when part of you dies and you know you not only cannot resuscitate it, but that its death is natural and necessary for something better to be born. I was dragged out of complacency kicking and screaming, locked out of my comfort zone and left on the streets. It was a very awareness-raising experience.

If, at the end of the semester, my efforts earn an A, then maybe that letter will become something more to me than simply an ego trip. But if using every moment in the best way that I know how earns me an imperfect grade, it will still be a grade I can accept with pride.

Well, a week after writing that lofty, inspirational speech, I am still a perfectionist and am currently about to have a panic attack from all the things I have to do and don't feel I can. But I think I'm sort of on the right track now.