Well written post, and good to read about your experience.
I had some similar experiences (bored in high school, able to keep straight A’s with little actual effort, but always anxious about grades and how they tied into my identity). In college (Electrical Engineering and Computer Engineering), I had a much better time (many intellectual friends), and kept up my good grades.
Then, I took a semester + summer off to do an internship, and found out how little being “smart” in school relates to being “smart” in the “real world.” That broke me, at least temporarily.
After returning, I was back to being bored. I started reading more for pleasure and helping friends study their subjects, in an effort to build general knowledge to combat this, but in my own classes I couldn’t bring myself to put in much effort.
Eventually I hit upon playing a dangerous game. I knew I had a psychological compulsion to be someone who got good grades, so I slacked in doing assignments and tests until I had only a slight margin for error. In Linear Algebra, after the first test, I had 6 points to lose the rest of the semester to still get an A. Similar story in a few other classes.
The dangerous game worked in that it motivated me to pay attention to my classes. Sometime in the next semester everything clicked again, and I was able to take interest in academia for the sake of academia. I wound up thoroughly enjoying the rest of my classes (and graduated with a 4.0).
I never articulated my strategy to myself (handicap yourself so the task is more interesting), but I kind of knew what I was doing in the back of my mind. Even though it worked, it could have just as easily backfired. My professors could have shrugged and stopped taking an interest in me, and if I’d done poorly in classes I might not have rekindled the flame, so to speak.
In short, I think it is rational to be careful with what experiences you expose yourself to if you suspect they might undermine your motivation.
I actually used a similar strategy for rather different ends. In my undergraduate work, I would routinely write the first paper of the class so that I would have graded it a “D” or worse. Then I would use that as a reference for how hard I’d have to work in the class.
Sadly, there was a class or two where I got A’s on those.
I once bought the wrong textbook for a class (it was on a related subject, and mis-labeled in the bookstore) and did the first homework assignment out of it.
It seemed to be a pretty tough assignment, which should have tipped me off, as I didn’t expect the class to be all that challenging. I did it, though, and turned it in.
The second problem set was assigned, and then I noticed that my book did not have the problem numbers included in the assignment. Someone showed me the correct book, which made me realize what had happened.
After I got the right book, I got the first homework assignment back. I got a 75%.
Needless to say, I figured out then that I wouldn’t have to work too much in that class. I do always wonder what the grader was thinking, though—“What the hell is this guy doing? This problem didn’t require any simulations...”
Well written post, and good to read about your experience.
I had some similar experiences (bored in high school, able to keep straight A’s with little actual effort, but always anxious about grades and how they tied into my identity). In college (Electrical Engineering and Computer Engineering), I had a much better time (many intellectual friends), and kept up my good grades.
Then, I took a semester + summer off to do an internship, and found out how little being “smart” in school relates to being “smart” in the “real world.” That broke me, at least temporarily.
After returning, I was back to being bored. I started reading more for pleasure and helping friends study their subjects, in an effort to build general knowledge to combat this, but in my own classes I couldn’t bring myself to put in much effort.
Eventually I hit upon playing a dangerous game. I knew I had a psychological compulsion to be someone who got good grades, so I slacked in doing assignments and tests until I had only a slight margin for error. In Linear Algebra, after the first test, I had 6 points to lose the rest of the semester to still get an A. Similar story in a few other classes.
The dangerous game worked in that it motivated me to pay attention to my classes. Sometime in the next semester everything clicked again, and I was able to take interest in academia for the sake of academia. I wound up thoroughly enjoying the rest of my classes (and graduated with a 4.0).
I never articulated my strategy to myself (handicap yourself so the task is more interesting), but I kind of knew what I was doing in the back of my mind. Even though it worked, it could have just as easily backfired. My professors could have shrugged and stopped taking an interest in me, and if I’d done poorly in classes I might not have rekindled the flame, so to speak.
In short, I think it is rational to be careful with what experiences you expose yourself to if you suspect they might undermine your motivation.
I actually used a similar strategy for rather different ends. In my undergraduate work, I would routinely write the first paper of the class so that I would have graded it a “D” or worse. Then I would use that as a reference for how hard I’d have to work in the class.
Sadly, there was a class or two where I got A’s on those.
I once bought the wrong textbook for a class (it was on a related subject, and mis-labeled in the bookstore) and did the first homework assignment out of it.
It seemed to be a pretty tough assignment, which should have tipped me off, as I didn’t expect the class to be all that challenging. I did it, though, and turned it in.
The second problem set was assigned, and then I noticed that my book did not have the problem numbers included in the assignment. Someone showed me the correct book, which made me realize what had happened.
After I got the right book, I got the first homework assignment back. I got a 75%.
Needless to say, I figured out then that I wouldn’t have to work too much in that class. I do always wonder what the grader was thinking, though—“What the hell is this guy doing? This problem didn’t require any simulations...”