Bold Little Swallow

(originally written June 19, 2008 on Blogger)

I recently found an interesting article (linked from Eduwonkette) about the disadvantages of elite, Ivy-league education, not only for the students of this education, but for the society that bears the consequences of their actions. A particularly poignant paragraph:

The world that produced John Kerry and George Bush is indeed giving us our next generation of leaders. The kid who’s loading up on AP courses junior year or editing three campus publications while double-majoring, the kid whom everyone wants at their college or law school but no one wants in their classroom, the kid who doesn’t have a minute to breathe, let alone think, will soon be running a corporation or an institution or a government. She will have many achievements but little experience, great success but no vision. The disadvantage of an elite education is that it’s given us the elite we have, and the elite we’re going to have.

Well that just fills me with puppies and sunshine. The article definitely strikes a tone with me because, while certainly not of Ivy-league “caliber”, I definitely have spent a lot of time these last five or six years trying to work past my crazy drive to perform well academically, no matter the cost: health, happiness, personality, life, etc. I remember a high school teacher encouraging me to apply to Harvard, just to see if I could get in. I remember feeling particularly adverse to this idea, though the only thing I could pinpoint is the suicide rate at these hyper-elite schools. I now realize what it was: people there didn’t live lives, either literally (morbid, I know) or figuratively. They lived through their number-driven goals of being the traditional stories of success: make lots of money, get lots of esteem. Ugh. Not for me — though I wouldn’t argue against a little more money than I currently have.

My nerves about graduate school have kicked in again, though not as strongly as before. Previously, I was getting some serious anxiety about not doing well, but the blessing of thinking for two weeks that I could just do this a few years from now when I have a greater Chinese ability was that I stopped worrying. I just got comfortable with the idea that I could do things in a non-rushed way. The curse of getting a sweet financial aid package and actually going to this uber-intensive graduate school program this year is that I’m worrying again. The materials are blunt: it is intense, it is difficult, and if you don’t pass with a B- or more in all your classes, you are dropped from the program (because technically, students aren’t candidates for an M.A. until after successfully going through the first summer).

So, like I did when nervously anticipating my acceptance/rejection letter earlier this spring, I’ve started thinking: what if I don’t do well? What if I do my best, I work my ass off, and in the end I don’t pass? Well, I probably won’t die from it. PROBABLY. I don’t think I have to report the “summer of failed graduate school” to anyone, so that’s also a plus. I’d go to China next fall like originally planned. I’d look for teaching jobs. After beginning to teach, I’d probably apply to Middlebury again, along with some other graduate programs, because in MA you have to have a Master’s (or maybe just be enrolled in a Master’s program) within the first five years of teaching to get your license renewed. Would it be that bad? Would I be worse off, other than the cost of gas to drive me to and from?

In the end: no, the world would not end. My life and career would also not end. I’d be okay. I’d certainly receive a lovely jab to my self-esteem, but I would still have improved my Chinese, still would have given it my best, still would have a job, and still would be coming home to my boyfriend and lovely apartment and delicious food.

My goal for this summer: to stay healthy, sleep enough, exercise enough, laugh enough, and not fall into the trap of going off the deep end in the name of academic success. I will try my best, but not at the expense of my own sense of self worth. Because I don’t want to be the student that all the colleges want to cherish and brag about. I want to be someone interesting, someone valuable, someone content with their existence, and if I have to fail grad school to do it, so be it.

I do NOT want to be George Bush.