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...