Avoiding needless suffering in school
When I was a junior in college, I took a statistics course. I was in the midst of getting a degree in music, so it wasn’t exactly a critical class for me. However, I really tried my best.
I eventually grasped each concept. The trouble was, that didn’t happen until several days after each exam. I would study hard leading up to the test, struggle through it, and then things would click just as we were moving on to the next topic.
This was a bit frustrating. In retrospect, I can see why this happened: Spaced repetition is what makes long-term learning happen, and the timing of my spaced repetition wasn’t set up quite right in order for me to succeed on the test date. (A similar thing happened with the musical performance I spoke about in Wednesday’s post.)
On the one hand, I could say that my final grade in the statistics course didn’t reflect my mastery of the topic, because my test scores were lower than what they would have been if I could have taken the same tests three days later. However, that’s not exactly true. The statistics course, as presented, was designed to measure my ability to demonstrate the required knowledge and skills within the compressed timetable of the course. The time constraint was part of the rules of that particular game. According to those rules, my grade accurately reflected my performance in the course.
In order to be successful as learners, we need to understand the rules of the game we’re playing. When we don’t understand the rules, we can’t follow them, and we’ll fail. Worse, when we don’t even see that we’re playing a game in the first place, we’ll believe that there is something wrong with us instead of recognizing that we are simply playing a game we don’t understand. “Why is everyone shouting at me and giving me dirty looks?” “Well, you’re working on your golf swing in the middle of an active soccer field.”
The specific, agreed-upon timeline of a college course is perfectly appropriate. However, the traditional course structure of learning material within a certain time frame does not invalidate other approaches. Sadly, many students believe that their inability to learn certain material in alignment with a specific external timetable means that they are unintelligent, unworthy, or unable to learn the material on any timetable. Maybe they needed two more weeks to grasp systems of equations, but a poor grade on a test convinced them that they will never get it at all. It’s a huge missed opportunity.
Another common conflict happens on group projects. If, in a collaborative project, you are excessively focused on keeping score (“I did my part!”), you are misunderstanding the rules of the game. The bottom line is that if you care more about your grade than everyone else in the group, you will probably have to do more than everyone else in order to earn the grade you require. When you accept that this is how that particular game is played, you can avoid being frustrated and resentful.
School admissions is another game that many of us allow to dictate our feelings of self-worth. If you don’t get into the school of your choice, it doesn’t mean that you’re a useless, hopeless person who’s destined for a life of living under a bridge. It says nothing about your potential, your strengths, and your worth. In fact, in intensely competitive situations, your admission or rejection may come down to the flip of a coin. It’s disappointing, sure, but it doesn’t have to be devastating. The most clever approach is to look for a school that’s right for you that isn’t the same one that everyone else is applying to, just as a vacation in Greece can be surprisingly affordable if you travel off the beaten path at a quieter time of year.
In every failure, we can blame ourselves for not being good enough. However, it’s more productive to question whether we can change something we’re doing instead of just thinking that the problem is simply who we are. To get out of this rut of unnecessary self-flagellation and suffering, we will have first believe a shift is possible, and then we have to take action.
Changing our behavior takes work, but it’s much more fulfilling than believing that we are stuck with our fundamental traits and skills. We can take steps to succeed at the game we’re playing, or we can even decide to play a new game.