The Disturbing Ten Per Cent
It’s a week into another semester, and I still can’t access my class rolls on-line. While I don’t know the names, the faces, what major they’re in, or their student number, I already know what I’m going to see. In a lab of about thirty students, there will be three or four who are real go-getters. They’ll do anything to improve their grade, will bemoan every 85 as substandard, and will constantly be in my office hours asking me for help. They won’t dare even start something without my approval, for fear that they may misstep, costing them precious points.
The same number will show up most weeks, but won’t bother writing lab reports for half of them. Be it personal troubles, a drinking problem, or pure laziness, these students will not do well in this class. Their mother was ill, or their girlfriend broke up with them and it took a month or two to sort their life out, or they just left their lab book at home, two states over, and won’t have it for another week.
I worry about both of these students, and in some ways I worry about the former more so than the latter. If it really was a personal tragedy, then they’re just going to have one rough semester, but will hopefully rebound to full form. If they’re genuinely lazy, their destiny is sealed before they even walk into a class. But the former – who hang on every word I say, taking notes on the syllabus sitting in front of them – that concern me the most. Many of them confuse following guidelines and appeasing the instructor with academic achievement, and certainly their grade reflects that.
Unfortunately for them, this is not how success in the real world is defined. Your boss will not stand over your shoulder, telling you how to fill out your various forms and paperwork. That’s what you’re for. That big presentation is your responsibility; that’s what you’re paid to do. I’m not old enough to know if this is a trend over the past decade or if it goes back further, but it seems to me that a number of seemingly successful students are succeeding in college the same way they succeeded in high school: strict adherence to the “rules†as set down by their instructor.
Taking risks and being willing to accept the possibility of failure are critical to get ahead in the world. You may be able to work your way into a solid position by this method, make good money, have a nice life, and be generally regarded as a success. But have you really lived up to your potential?
I honestly believe that if you can succeed in college, you have some intelligence about you, and if you’re described above, I know you can work hard. But if you’re not willing to branch out, try something without the assurance that it will work, you’re short-changing yourself. Risk taking is a skill. It requires practice, knowing when a risk is warranted, when it isn’t, and even recognizing something as “riskyâ€. Writing your lab report using nothing but Beatles lyrics is risky (and would likely earn you serious style points with me), but choosing to use Courier New over Times New Roman is not.
So to the tightly wound 10%: relax, breath, go outside and stop memorizing the syllabus to make sure that your paper matches the exact formatting standards. You’ll living longer, and who knows, you may actually enjoy college a bit.
Posted: January 29th, 2007 under Uncategorized.
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