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Underachievement
from the Inside Out |
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The idea of
being a person who would hurt your mother and father that way is stunning.
How can you be so bad, so inconsiderate, so evil. You vow to change, that
this year, this month, this week, this class
will be different. Then you go back to failing to meet your obligations,
lying about what has been done and what has not been done. You go back to the
land of good intentions and the failure to produce what is demanded. You go
back to disappointing everyone around you. Each time they try a new approach to "it," everybody's hopes rise.
They can be the teachers,
the guidance counselors, the psychologists, or your parents. The new approach
might be a tutor, an assignment book, signed homework sheets from the
teachers, or doing the homework in the kitchen with your parents watching.
You might sign a contract, lose privileges, have restrictions on your
behavior, or find yourself with gold, silver, bronze, red, blue, or no stars
next to your name. There may be an egg timer in your classroom, to 'help you
to complete your work on time.' "It?"
"It" can have many different
meanings - not even just as many meanings as there are people but more than
one meaning per person. "It"
can be very strange. Sometimes "it"
means just your underachievement, your failure to produce the work expected.
Sometimes "it"
is your inability to fit in with the other kids, being beaten up (or as they put it, fighting). Sometimes
"it" is
your 'willful disobedience' and your refusal to admit that you could do the
work if you wanted to. And, as often as not, "it" seems to be your belief
that what is important to them
is only important to you because
it is important to them, and not for its own sake. "Of
course it's important to do this. It will affect your ability to do work
later." "Everybody else is doing it, so you have to also."
"Why should we reward you for not doing your work?" "If you
really wanted to do it, you would." And it's
true - you know it's true. Your mother wouldn't say these things to you if it
weren't, nor would the teacher. You're a screw up. You won't be successful in
life. You are doomed and you know it. Everything they tell you drives the
point home. And doing what you are ‘supposed to’ is what makes
you lovable and worthwhile in their opinions. They don't love you, and you
don't love you, either. And if they do still
love you, you know it won't last unless you change your behavior. And you
can't change your behavior, because you've tried and failed and tried and
failed and… It started
in 1st grade. For some reason that you don't even remember, the teacher would
tell you to do something in class and you wouldn't do it. In fact, the
teacher told you to do lots of things that you wouldn't do. Like “sit
still and pay attention.” You couldn't sit still and pay attention. You
tried to tell her that but all she could do was emphasize that you could and
you would. But there
were things going on outside, birds flying and wind blowing and any number of
other points of interest. And your clothes itched, and it was too hot or cold
or both. But look at the neat things you could do with your pencil. Tap, tap,
tap rapidly on the desktop. Snatch! The
pencil is no longer in your hands, but in the teacher's. "I told you not
to do that!" she scolds. "Do what?" you ask innocently.
"You know perfectly well what, young man!" But you weren't paying
attention and you aren't quite sure what your transgression was this time. __________________________________ Now, the
funny thing is that nobody has accused you of not knowing the material.
Nobody has said that you can't move to the next grade because you did so
badly. Nobody has suggested that you are not learning. Nor have they praised
you for being able to learn so much while doing so little work or given you
more work, or faster, harder work. Everybody explains why it is important for
you to do your work even though the work itself has no importance. And you
know, inside, that the work is a waste of your time, though you can't quite
explain it. And you can't
make yourself do it. It hurts. It hurts almost as much as the fact that you
hurt and disappoint the ones you love, whose respect you would give anything to have. __________________________________ There are
school days where you are in trouble for not doing something and school days
where you are not in trouble because nothing is due. Most mornings you wake up
with a knot in your stomach. Sometimes there is a specific dread, because you
know the thing that is due, that you haven't completed, that you are going to
be publicly humiliated over. Sometimes it is a far more general dread - there
is bound to be something that you have forgotten, something that you owe that
hasn't crossed your mind since it was assigned, and it was supposed to be
handed in today. There is a
third kind of day, not as common as the first two. A lot of kids seem afraid
of days with tests and quizzes, but those are your best days, most of the
time. It's not like you studied or anything, but it's also not like the
teacher's going to be testing you on anything you didn't know last year. (Of
course, you don't actually verbalize it like that to yourself) There is just
this absolute confidence that you can take any test that the school is likely
to throw at you and eat it up - test days are the opposite of regular days. When your
parents ask you if you have done your homework, you tell them you have. Why?
Well, that's kind of hard to explain… You know that they would rather
that you had done the homework then that you hadn't. You want to make them
happy. And, even though you haven't done it yet, there is usually still time to get it done
before it is due, and you really really
mean to do it, so it will be okay. Besides, if you tell them that
you haven't done it, then they will just make you do it, or try to make you
do it, and that hurts. The hurt is
not from the way they treat you; the hurt comes from the inside as much as
anything else. It comes when you try to make yourself do something that goes
against your grain, something internally offensive. It just feels wrong, and
that's what you try to explain. You understand the work perfectly, but you
can't do it. Then, worse
yet, they'll get into a conversation with you about why you haven't done it.
Okay, it's not exactly a conversation. They ask and they demand and they beg
and you never have
the right words. They get angry with you. Then they act hurt and betrayed and
a big argument follows with you that doesn't accomplish anything. Later, they
argue between themselves on how to handle your problem. "Why does he do
it?" "That doesn't matter. We have to get him to do his work."
"You're not listening to me!" You can hear them talking and then
yelling. Their yelling at each other feels even worse then when they yell at
you. You feel helpless and you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else,
or maybe that you were dead. So, they
ask you at Christmas time whether your grades are going to be better this
term. What are you supposed to say? If you say "No, Mom, actually,
they're about the same as usual," what is she going to say? "Okay,
I was just wondering. Now we can all go off on our pleasant vacation
together." It doesn't seem likely to you. Not that it even occurs to you
for a minute to do that. That would be absurd. You just assure them (but
really her) that it will be better this time. And you hope that it will and
you dread the moment in the vacation when the grades come, but you have a
good time anyway, while waiting, because at least your list of things that
you haven't done isn't getting any longer. And the feeling of dread doesn't
start very big, at first. It's there, but just as a niggling feeling at
first. As the week goes on, the tension in your stomach grows. Every time
your mom calls you into another room, you're sure that she has found out what
your grades really are. Every time the phone rings, you're sure that your dad
was home and checked the mail. What's it going to be like when they find out this time? Something
weird, though. As surely as you wanted to believe that it would be different
each time through, so did they.
Each story that you told they wanted to believe. Mother yells at you once,
"I told my friends and co-workers what you told me, that you had turned
over a new leaf and things were different. You made a fool out of me. Is that
what you wanted to do? Are you proud of yourself?" Each
counselor, therapist, and psychologist meets you and talks with you. They try
to figure out what is going on in your mind. They reason with you ands
explain to you how important it is to do your work - it will make you happy,
it will make your parents happy, it will make your teachers happy, it will
give you a bright future. Just think how much better things will be if you
just do your work. Each of them, in turn, assures your parents that there has
been a breakthrough. They explain, "He understands now. He won't do it
again." Your parents are set up again for failure and so are you.
Nothing has changed. Nothing but more time and more hurt and more being sure
that you will never succeed and that you can't do what they want you to do.
You think: "Maybe I'm not really smart. Maybe I just act smart." You
think: "They'd be better off if I were dead." You pull out your
hair. You swear on whatever you find holy or worth swearing by. You make up
things to swear by. You pray to God, not that you believe in him any more, if
you ever did, because it hasn't done any good yet. Maybe God is punishing
you, too, for not believing. You're
going to the therapists because your parents know that you are not happy. You
are not happy because you don't fit in. You don't fit in because you are not
normal. So, if the therapist(s) can help you to be normal, everything will be
all right. Except for
one problem. You are not
normal. There is something wrong with you. Your teachers know it. Your
parents know it. Your brother and sister know it. All of the other kids know it -
and they make sure that you know it, too. And how many therapists do they
think it takes before you know that you are incurable. You may not be as
smart as everybody thinks you are, but you're not stupid. The private
school will be different. Smaller classes. More stimulating classes. It will
be better. Different teachers for each subject. And, in some ways, it is
different. Not necessarily better, but different. The teasing is more
physical at times. The smaller classes make the embarrassment more personal.
But there's a class where things go better. Math teacher spends less energy
on "Have you done your homework?" and more on "Do you
understand the material.?" You love math - you always have. This makes
it that much better. You get an "A" in the class. Not in the other
classes, but in this one, anyway… Of course, the teacher gets fired
over the summer. The worst
possible thing happens. Or is it the best? Hard to tell, even looking
backwards… Your 9th
grade Math teacher says to you and a couple of other students: "What you
kids need is a school with computer access to really stretch in Math. This
one isn't going to get one." She helps you to get into a prep school
(even with your grades) and
promptly gets fired. But you are off to another school. Another chance to
make a fresh start. Nobody there knows you. They don't have any expectations
of your behavior, your ability, or anything. They put
you up two grades in Math. They put you up one level in Science. You are
challenged. And you flounder. Some things
have changed for the better. There is less teasing than you have ever had
before and kids who are teased far more often than you are. You still stick
out (during the first week, a hall mate says "If you want to be the smartest
kid in our grade, you'll have to beat Matthew and Peter." But you have
no clue what you said to prompt
that.), but not as much. You are actually happy much of the time - you even
have people you think of as friends. They let you hang out with them sometimes
and you think they're neat. (They're seniors - some of the ones you're in
class with). You're not at home and that means fewer fights with your
parents. You still
can't do homework. And you are finally in a situation in which if you don't
do the work you can't keep up. You don't know how to struggle with something
difficult. You don't know how to ask for help. You don't know how to be
honest with yourself, let alone anybody else. It's easier to just go along
until everything falls apart. It's not like there is anything that can be
done to fix it, after all. It takes
longer than you expect for it all to fall apart. You're a little surprised
that they agree to have you back for a second year. Yet another counselor
with yet another plan is convinced that you can be saved. First, you attend
Summer School at a different prep school. That goes pretty well. It helps
that there are only two classes, one of which (Algebra II) you help to teach.
In the fall, she sets you up with a
tutor - but by now, you're back in the classes at your level. So, when the
tutor asks if you need help learning anything, the (partially) honest answer
is no. You still can't do homework, but you are back doing things you can
learn without homework and handling the tests. The counselor is heartbroken. If
only… she starts. You're so smart… she despairs. But you
know that you were never really that smart, anyway. You've proven it to everybody,
now. So, when the prep school decides to have you leave, in November, while
you are surprised, the failure bothers you less than it might have. It is
only the execution of what you knew in your heart. You didn't belong there. Does the
rest matter? Your parents are worried about your ever making it on your own. They
explain again and again about the importance of college. Earning a good
living. Being dependable. And still… Fitting in. And you? You know it's
hopeless. That doesn't prevent you from getting your hopes up each time. That
doesn't prevent your parents from getting their hopes up each time. Freshman
year of college. 2nd (but not sophomore) year at another college. Flunking
Intro. Sociology and Science Fiction. Didn't do the homework. _________________________________ What does
all this mean for your adult life? Are you, in fact, doomed? Should you just
give up? No degree, no discipline, no job skills to speak of? Potential - but
more like cold fusion than anything else... an energy source that looks
great, but can't really be tapped. 25 years
removed from that second year of college, I would like to answer your
questions; I would like to respond to those feelings you expressed. I would
like to comfort you. It is true
that these behaviors, some internally driven and some learned, will continue
to be a part of your life. Long range deadlines will always present more of a
challenge than you might like them to. And there will be plenty of those
deadlines, externally or internally imposed. On the
other hand, there are many jobs in which the importance is placed on
"Did you do the job?" rather than "Did you meet each of the
intermediate goals?" There are employers who want to know what you can
do today rather
than over the next month or two. The questions you will be asked are not
about nightly homework of no particular significance, but on areas that are
more likely to matter to you and to other people. Real products for real
audiences. And there
are skills to be acquired that will aid you in meeting deadlines. There are
ways to cope with the differences that make some types of tasks difficult. There
are jobs in which the way you
work is far more valuable than traditional academic strategies would be. Don't
despair. The stories you were told about the need to go through college, or
particular sorts of college, have merit, but there is more to the whole
picture than that. 50% of all prominent Americans were successful in school. What
does that tell you about the other 50%? Your ideas
are valuable. Your feelings are worthwhile. Normality is overrated and
misapplied. You are more important than the sum of your grades. You are not
to blame for a poor fit with the schools. You are not to blame for learning
the lessons the schools worked so hard to teach you - of your own inadequacy
and failure. You are not a bad person now, and you were not then. You did not
ever intend to
cause pain through your non-performance of their
work. Don't give
up. Live. ************************************************************************************** |