In the competitive, elite and deeply impressive environment that Colorado College facilitates, it is easy to forget what got you here in the first place.
One day during my sophomore year, I was walking out of an intro class for my major and talking with one of my most effortlessly impressive friends. While I found political science deeply engaging, in my head, I was falling short of the potential I thought I had. “I am embarrassed this class isn’t easier for me,” I muttered sheepishly.
“Lexi, you didn’t come to college to flaunt what you are already good at,” she replied earnestly, as only someone whose intellect no grade can measure could. I dedicate this article to her — and to that piece of advice.
Past the external desires, also known as employment, we all fought to make it into a relatively competitive environment to have the privilege of learning alongside bright peers, engaging with difficult material and being forced out of our comfort zone. We pay to go to college because these are the formative years of our intellectual careers. We pay to be challenged. I would go as far as to say this is the true metric of getting your money’s worth out of higher education.
I know someone with a 4.0 GPA is reading this article and having somewhat of a visceral reaction, so let me be clear: This is not to say that if you have a 4.0, you are not trying. You may be trying the hardest of anyone and your GPA reflects your valiant effort. This is far closer to a call for redirection in how we discuss and evaluate performance, both our own and each other’s.
When people take a class outside of their major or presumed interest, their attempts to engage in their work are almost always followed by a streak of self-deprecation. “I am not very good at this.” “This isn’t what I want to do.” This kind of immediate, defensive reaction we all employ when we’re slightly out of our comfort zone affirms this narrative that to indulge in our curiosity instead of relentlessly pursuing whatever it is we feel we already champion is admirable. This feels counter to the model of education we all chose as the foundation of our college career. Aren’t these new challenges what we came to college to experience?
The allure of liberal arts is a well-rounded education. The first time I came home from college, I bragged to my (academically decorated) mother about all my friends’ various majors and minors. She was excited by my excitement, but rather bewildered. “If I went to a school like yours, I would just try to take classes in everything.”
My mom is the kind of person who says her dream is going back to school. She and my, equally, if not more academically decorated, aunt were practically doubled over with excitement at the sight of CC’s course catalog. Hearing this opinion from them — people who, to me, epitomize academic achievement — confused me at first, but as the years have gone by, their point feels more potent. We feel the pressure of assigning unwavering direction to our undergraduate experience in an environment whose essence is designed for sustaining universal interest.
The next most obvious rebuttal I expect is graduate school. I can spin whatever sentimental argument I want, but GPA matters for those of us who want to be doctors, lawyers, get a master’s degree and more. The point I’m more interested in making is that other people’s projection of their obsession over academic validation has far more to do with their insecurities and shortcomings than it does with you. This school is full of brilliance, but the most brilliant people I know are not interested in comparing their achievements with those around them to feel a sense of elevation or superiority; they know their genius shines on its own.
If you don’t feel like the smartest person in the room, good for you. You are the person in the room with the most to gain from the experience. In a discussion-based, intimate classroom, it is hard not to feel like you have something to prove. But a willingness to try things that might not come naturally is absolutely the trait that will inevitably make you the most successful person in any room. There is courage in owning our shortcomings while taking on new challenges anyway. There is power in knowing you are smart, creative and interesting in multiple ways and this one domain where you feel inadequate is actually space for you to joyfully grow into an even more interesting and informed person. This security in one’s identity matched with an ability to adapt will serve you in any professional career you may pursue — and, if I had to guess, graduate school too.
Realistically, this academically sourced validation we all grapple with says much more about our relationship with ourselves than it signifies to our peers how impressive we are. You are going to be fine. You are going to get a job and you are going to foster a life worth living. But don’t deprive yourself of curiosity in these four years of your life when you can learn and try almost anything by sticking to what you already know you’ll be good at. That is both a disservice to yourself and to the culture we enable among each other.