Sometimes life's disappointments mean the most

When I was in the fifth grade, my teacher created a penmanship club, designed for students who had neat handwriting.  Dubbed the “Neatnik” club, membership came with a small gold ‘N’ that students wore on their clothes.  To this day I have not forgotten that I was not inducted into what I then thought was a very prestigious club.

In the seventh grade, I “went steady” with a boy named Paul and wore his ID bracelet (yes, that was the fad at the time). Little did I know that another classmate was scheming to steal him away from me, a plan that unfortunately -  or perhaps fortunately - worked.

Fast forward to high school, and I applied for an international summer homestay program in Denmark. It came down to two finalists, but unfortunately, I lost out to my friend and classmate Pam.

These are only three of the many disappointments and rejections that I remember from my youth.  At the time, they were all devastating. For that ten year old little girl, not being a Neatnik member hurt (and I laugh writing that now), yet I turned the rejection into motivation, and my handwriting eventually improved (it’s even legible now!).  As painful as my first breakup was at thirteen, I went on to date far more interesting young men, eventually marrying one of them and having a beautiful young daughter.  (Paul was far too short for me anyway 😏.) Perhaps it was losing out on the opportunity to visit Denmark that sparked a life-long fascination for other cultures, and so far, I’ve been blessed to travel to fourteen different countries. 

When the recent college admissions scandal broke, I started thinking about some of those youthful disappointments. My parents would have laughed if I had asked them to intervene with my fifth-grade teacher, nor did they step in and question the faculty committee that selected my school's study abroad candidate.  When I struggled with eighth grade algebra – a struggle with math that would go on for years – they were always there for me, but they were not going to do the work for me. However, what they did do was instill a work ethic in me that I have employed throughout my lifetime. To my parents, the name of the college wasn't important; what I chose to do with my education was what mattered.

Looking back, I recognize that all of those setbacks and heartaches introduced me to some of the best moments of my life.  More important, I learned to be in charge of my own path.  I wish those families involved in the college kerfuffle – and that’s putting in mildly – trusted that their children could and would find their own way. Those are the lessons that make life more satisfying, at least they did for me.

If you’re interested in reading a few thoughtful articles about the college admissions scandal, see below.

The Moral Wages of the College Admissions Mania

The Lies at the Heart of the Admissions Scandal

...Top Universities Don't Make Kids Smarter, Happier, or Even Richer...

Too Many Choices!

Over the holidays, my mother asked me to pick up some salad dressing at the store for her.  She mentioned a preferred brand, but other than that, she didn’t tell me what kind to buy.  Minutes later I stood in the grocery aisle, absolutely overwhelmed by all the choices.  I mean, have you seen how many options there are? Her favorite name-brand alone offered thirty different types of dressing, and there were at least fifteen other brands to choose from.  I couldn’t make a decision.

In his 2004 book, The Paradox of Choice-Why More is Less by American psychologist Barry Schwartz, he argues that too many choices paralyze us and can lead to stress, anxiety, and bad decision making. 

     "As Americans, we assume that more choice means better options and greater satisfaction. But beware of excessive choice: choice overload can make you question the decisions you make before you even make them, it can set you up for unrealistically high expectations, and it can make you blame yourself for any and all failures. In the long run, this can lead to decision making paralysis, anxiety, and perpetual stress. And, in a culture that tells us that there is no excuse for failing short of perfection when your options are limitless, too much choice can lead to clinical depression."

Since the publication of the book, there have been other studies on the paradox of choice, some debunking the theory and some supporting it; still, there does seem to be some validity to the idea. I couldn't make a decision about which salad dressing to buy! I wanted someone else to make it for me.

I often see this play out in college admissions, especially around this time of year. Now that my seniors have finished their applications, it is not uncommon for them to pop back in the office to question their decisions. "Have I applied to the 'right' schools?" they ask. "Do I need to add a few more to my list?" (a question they answer in the affirmative before I can say anything). And off they go, randomly applying to colleges they had never considered before, forgetting whether or not the school is actually a good fit for them.  The more the better, right?

I suppose I'm lucky.  I know there are students that apply to 30, 40, even 50 colleges. Our record is a mere 25, and this is where I see the paralysis set in again. How do you choose among 25 colleges? Maybe you only get in to 15 of them, but how do you narrow all those options down to just one? No matter which school a girl ultimately chooses, she second guesses herself. Many year ago, a graduate appeared in my office in early July, only weeks before she was to leave for college. "I've made a terrible mistake," she cried. "Can I call one of the other schools that accepted me and beg them to let me come?" She couldn't stop questioning her decision, sure that the grass was greener somewhere else.  After she finished talking, we reviewed her college search criteria, and I asked her to tell me what led her to choose this school to begin with.  As I watched the tension dissipate, I suggested that she go back and visit the school, which fortunately wasn't far away. Days later, she returned with a big smile. "It's all good, Ms. McCarter. I made the right choice," and I"m happy to report she loved the four years she spent there.

Part of this is our collective fault. Too many of us talk about the perfect college, the number once choice, when we should be talking about the number of schools that will be a good fit. There are thousands of college options in the United States - how could there be only one perfect school, one first choice? Unfortunately, we often set our students up for disappointment with comments like "College was the best four years of my life." If that's true, what do students have to look forward to after graduation? I recently read an article titled "I Hope My Daughter Finds Lifelong College Friends Like I Did," and while I understand the intent, what happens if she doesn't? My own daughter made good friends in college, but her lifelong friends are still the ones she met in the seventh grade. 

There may or may not be any scientific evidence to prove the paradox of choice, but from my own experience, I tend to believe in it. It happens to me all the time at the grocery store or Target (do we need that many kinds of shampoo?), and when April rolls around this year, I know I will have a handful of seniors in my office, asking me what to do. Some will quickly realize what they want - what they wanted all along - while others will want to read me their list of options and ask which one to choose.

I finally purchased a ranch dressing for my mother, and when that really wasn't the one she wanted (I could have predicted that!), I went back for something else.  We try to make the best decisions we can, but sometimes they don't work out. That's okay. The good news about the college choice is that if your first choice doesn't pan out, you can move on to Plan B.  And sometimes Plan B - even Plan C or D - turns out to be just what you needed. I should have gone with the poppyseed dressing all along.