When I left off in this series - intended to explore the nuances of our academic and social culture here at Hopkins - it was at the conclusion of the first part of what I had anticipated would be a two part column about my experience in waiting for my LSAT score. I had wanted to present the columns in back-to-back weeks. That didn't quite happen; let's just say that I had to take a little break from writing. Well, break time's over.
However, since that was so long ago and it is likely no one remembers much of the original column, I think it might be prudent to rehash it a bit. In essence, I sought to show that because I was so transfixed upon getting back the results of the test, as the date approached, it created such a distraction for me that it trivialized every other aspect of my life.
If you want to read it in full, feel free to check it out on the News-Letter Web site in the Oct. 25, 2007 issue under the title "Procrastination with Dignity" - though I would ask that you examine it with its original title "A Prelude to a Fall, part one: sidelined by numbers."
Regardless, I ended the column by stating my intention of writing the follow-up column about my reaction to receiving the score, to pen the raw, unfiltered emotions that it was sure to evoke. Though some time has passed and my raw emotions have run their course, perhaps there still exists some hope of fulfilling my original objective.
Now for part two...
What becomes of us when our worst fears in life are not realized, but rather turn out to be more favorable than our present reality? How do we move forward when our worthy efforts are met with cataclysmic failure? And, what are we to do when our rhetoric is reduced to such petty melodrama that it only seems appropriate when read as a monologue in a Spanish language soap opera? But seriously though: when life hands you a lemon, how the hell do you make lemonade?
Well, I don't know. But I do know that life just handed me a whole sack full of lemons, so I better figure out the recipe, or else I'm about to be stuck with naught but the fruits of bitterness upon my plate.
They sent the e-mail with the scores three days early; maybe they did it to take us by surprise, maybe to make the anticipation in the final hours a bit easier, maybe it was because they finished grading the damn thing early. Really, I don't know why. What I do know is that when I got the e-mail, I thought it was just another procedural correspondence regarding the upcoming release of the scores.
Dear Mike: it wasn't. I opened the thing not suspecting anything, and proceeded to stare with disbelief for about a minute as I slowly came to realize what I was looking at. All the while those three numbers were staring back at me like three heart piercing daggers. Those three numbers all added up to: you suck (or so it appeared to me).
Surprise, shock, anguish - all these were part of the mixed cadre of emotions that washed over me as I looked upon a score that was lower than any of the "worst case scenarios" which I had concocted in my head during the interminable three weeks of waiting.
But then something amazing and totally unexpected happened: I suddenly felt OK. How could it this be? I shouldn't be getting back up from this. We're talking about me here, the guy who was so lost in anticipation that it made his whole life seem as pointless as a Beverly Hills Cop marathon (see part one), the schmuck who chose to wager his identity on one number. I spun the wheel, and I lost. Game over, right?
Apparently not. I really can't explain why this happened. I think when I fell, I hit my head hard enough to realize that maybe I was letting things get a little out of control. On this campus, we are focused way too much on these numbers. They consume us to a degree that just isn't called for.
Obviously, I'm guilty of it myself. But in looking back, I'm forced to ask, "Where does one draw the line?" When we choose to sacrifice the present for some vision of an idyllic future, at what point does the opportunity cost dictate that we should just enjoy our lives and quit worrying so damn much about our test scores?
Well, I'll be so bold as to suggest that at Hopkins we might just be misjudging the position of that line. And as we do it, some of us are really just setting ourselves up for a big fall.
