The refrigerator is my nemesis. Housing A+ report cards, ugly crayon drawings of stick figures barely anatomically correct, and letters from teachers, a billboard for all to see the accomplishments one has achieved. Almost as if a running advertisement, those report cards would return after the quarter, after the semester, after the year, building and building. Watching the GPA stand still at a 4.0 as if a waiting game, surveying the “S” as if a constant lull to superior validation, a paper with a scratched out, hastily written note of “great job!” blotched in ink under a 100% with little smiles in each of the “o’s.” Now I know the grades do not matter, the validation should not concern me, if one A+ were to lose a line and become an A- or God forbid become a B, who would care? And I know a letter is so silly to build yourself upon, but sometimes I feel as if I just cannot help it, the worst part being that the craving for the validation can almost become insatiable. After the grades come the clubs, piled on, constantly itching for a higher position, then comes the sports, climbing the ladder to see just how far I can push myself, but where does this end? I would like to think I am better than a dog chasing its tail but in reality, that is exactly what academic validation is.
Senior year of high school it hit me, I had spent endless hours studying, holding positions in clubs like a monopoly, bearing life like a balancing act. In the process, I had missed out on activities with friends, time with my family. I missed out on moments with my sister before she left for college, all for, in the end, trivial, inconsequential, minute, and honestly, tiring pursuits that would look good on paper. I was burnt out. The final months were grueling, dragging myself to the finish line of high school. I swore I would not do that again in college, I would work hard and study, but I would not only work hard and study. Life is too short to stare at poorly drawn-out notes, a screen boding lectures and information back at you, or a teacher droning on about a topic that I honestly could not give a shit less about other than it was a challenge to learn and the shiny “A” at the end would look impressive.
Now you probably looked at this article not expecting a Debbie-downer droop about high school burnout, but I promise it does have a purpose. Alright so let’s get into it. The age-old question: why? Why do people feel the need to be validated over something so trivial, how has our society put so much power into a letter of the alphabet? Why does a single letter push some people to the break? Is it college, parents, friends, teachers, something else? I am no researcher in this field so take my words with a grain of salt, but for me personally, the validation was deeply rooted in a fear of disappointing others. If I was always trying to be the best at least I wouldn’t be looked upon as the worst. What a depressing way to think, right? Now the next question: When does this start? Again, grain of salt, but my need for validation came from feeling the need to always be better as a child, I wanted to be on the refrigerator always, staring at a bar I had set for myself constantly. And finally: How can we stop the need to always feel academically validated? Now this one I am still working on, so that grain of salt is starting to look more like a salt shaker, but oh well, so here is my piggy bank of two cents: realize you are better than the grade, there is more to you than a resume and a manuscript to be printed, stamped, and sent off at the end of your career, you have more to contribute than a class or a club. Live for yourself and not for others. I am also aware that this is definitely going to come across as something sooo easy to do, and I also know it is not. It is a process, and a challenging one at that. Sometimes there is something that may kick-start or truly open your eyes to the situation, but losing your mind over the rat race of academia is not worth the hype, in fact, f*ck the refrigerator and f*ck the report cards.