Even Expectations Are Shocking

Right now in my rhetoric class, we're putting the final touches on our rhetorical analyses. And let me tell you, I'll be glad to be rid of it. I hate the stuffiness of MLA format and the boring content. Give me creative writing that allows me to bleed a free flow of my ideas any day.

Anyway, as we finish up these essays, we are supposed to review our peers' papers. I wasn't too worried about this; I've always been told I write well and I can't think of an essay I got below an A on. So, it came as a surprise that someone who reviewed my paper said my analysis was "all over the place", my introduction and conclusion were "weak to average", and on a scale of 1 to 10, he would give it a "6/10, I guess."

Believe me, I can take constructive criticism. Heck, I can take mean criticism. But somehow, I was still mildly taken aback by these comments. And the root of it is basically this: I've never been told I'm average at anything.

I'm going to attempt to explain this in the least conceited way possible (I swear I am a humble person). But let me put it this way: if my high school had had a valedictorian, I'm almost certain it would have been me. With the exception of AP biology, my class averages were always 98 or over. I stood out to my teachers because I worked hard, actually committed myself to do the homework (unlike my peers), and just "got" everything--even things I didn't particularly like. Every teacher always had some sort of praise for me, and I basically glided through high school as one of the smartest and most ambitious.

Going into college, I knew things were going to change. I knew I wouldn't be one of the best anymore, but I welcomed that. There is an excellent quote that goes like "If you're the smartest person in the room, you're in the wrong room." That quote really speaks to me, and ever since I read it, I craved that feeling. I was sick of feeling like everyone around me was stupid. It would be refreshing to have others smarter than I was around me.

And it has been great. For once in my life, academically, I feel like I'm in the right place. I enjoy not being able to answer questions that many others can, because it means that the competition is equal or better than my own abilities. In a way, I enjoy the slight struggle to understand everything new I'm learning, because it means I'm being intellectually challenged, something I ached for throughout high school.

Perhaps it has been tough medicine to swallow that I don't stand out anymore. The peer review was my best example of that. I am happily learning to accept it, though, because I've genuinely wanted this dilemma my whole academic life.