A Number Cannot Describe Me

This is what I kept as a mantra during my struggle to get into my major. The number to which I am referring is the dreaded Grade Point Average.

I am growing to despise how much emphasis the world seems to put on number like that. This is strictly speaking of GPA; I'm still unsure what a credit score is, I just know it has to be good or I can't rent an apartment or buy a car.

I am tired of being ruled by the numbers and letters in Academia. I realized yesterday that if it were not for my constant worry about grades, I would enjoy all of my classes and make the most out of them that I could. If I didn't have to worry about keeping my 3.5, I would work just as hard. I don't understand what that wretched number has to do with anything, I'm here to learn not to earn a number or a stamp of approval.

My studio professor, Tim McLaughlin, stated near the beginning of the semester: "Don't worry so much about the grades, work as hard as you can and the rest will follow."

What is that supposed to mean anyway? Before now, no professor has even addressed the anxiety students develop over grades. Just work hard? That's all you expect? The best I can do is all you require? But what if my best is not, by your standards, my best?

Yesterday, I ran into my friend Trey at the library. He gave me an interesting perspective on this. He recalled a scholarship meeting he attended and some of the things his fellow students said. Some boasted a 4.0, but really, what's a 4.0? Yeah, you performed like a good little monkey in college, but did you learn anything about real life? Trey explained that people who've had to struggle for grades and work their asses off for their education learn more than the 4.0 dude. We learn about challenges and how to face them. We learn about late nights studying away while distractions gnaw at us constantly. And after all is said and done a 3.2 or a 3.5 is nothing to sneeze at. On top of that, you learn to function in the scary world that is beyond college.

When I went on my crusade against the College of Architecture, I learned a great deal. I learned how to treat people who spent some time helping you, even if they weren't much help. You learn how to negotiate, even if you want to cry all over their desk. You learn that persistence is both irritating and will, with some effort, get you somewhere, even if it isn't very far. The more I visited with various professors and administrators, the more they know my face, my name, and what I was all about. I let my passion seep through enough for them to see I wasn't going after this on a whim, it was something I truly wanted. Sure, sometimes I hated how manipulative I had to be. I hated thanking some of them and sometimes, I wanted to bludgeon someone with my sketchbook until people listened to me. I came back to my dorm in tears of frustration at the futility of my quest and how much time I seemed to be wasting on people who didn't care. Why was I having such a problem? My GPA was not sufficient.

I came from engineering with a 2.8, an honorable number for a first year engineering student. I tried to explain to the Arch folks that I was not stupid and that I felt the GPA was not very descriptive of my skills, what I could bring to the program and of course, my intelligence. I spent a great deal of time talking with the man in charge of student services, urging them to accept a portfolio or essay to supplement the GPA. Lo and behold, they did.

I got recommendation letters, put together a resume, designed an online portfolio with a modified version I burned to a disk with a README so they knew how to access it. I even wrote the 500 word essay, spent over a month on it to make sure it was perfect and expressed my need effectively. After all that, I received an email saying I was not accepted. And it was because I only had a 3.2 GPA. I was absolutely furious and after a fit of crying, typed up a short, terse email to the head of student services and the dean.

I know it may seem unfair to those who didn't get in. But did anyone else put up as big a protest? I'm really not sure, but I was sure to raise as much hell as I could, but quietly with a frightening, controlled anger.

"The GPA is not who I am," I kept saying.

"How do you know what I can do if you haven't given me the chance?"

So, he did on the condition that I achieved a certain grade for the semester. After all that, it still came down to grades.

I hate feeling trapped by these numbers. After this week, I have needed to remind myself that no matter what, I am not a number. I am not a number, I am NOT A NUMBER!

Talent is empirical and cannot be measured by figures, money or numbers. Talent is who you are and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.