Being Happy being a B+ Person

My last year at Colgate, my most favorite professor, in a frustrated moment, told me I was "a B+ student." He went on to explain that he thought I was perfectly capable of better grades and deeper scholarship, but at the last minute something would distract me and - uck: the dreaded B+ would result. Personally, I was pretty pleased with the B+'s in my Colgate career, but he was right, and he unearthed a fundamental truth about me that I've seen many times since then.

Life distracts me. I enjoy distractions. I hate single-minded devotion that cuts out everything, stagnates relationships, drains people of the joy of life.

As I said, this has happened to me more than once. First year law school, I worked and worked and did pretty well. Until write-on for law journals came up. End of exams, Austin hot and sunny, and a reading packet 6" thick. Husband left for home and summer clerkships, with stern instructions that I was to get to work and write a stellar essay, one that would insure me a place on TROL, TILG or even, Heaven help me, The Law Review. I cracked open the packet, tried a page or two, and took a nap. I took the packet to the pool and tried to read while floating - nope, that didn't work either. Finally, 3 or 4 days into it, I gave up on the packet all together and sunbathed and slept my way through my last few days alone, before packing up and heading home for my (unpaid) internship at the Bankruptcy Court. I'd worked hard on exams, really hard. I'd outlined and studied and studied and outlined; eaten frozen pizza and gone back for more. But once it was over, it was over. I couldn't summon the desire to be on law review - if that's what it took the get "the" job then I didn't want or need "the" job. I'd figure something else out if it came to that, but I couldn't go beyond the B+.

I was glad then, and I'm glad now. I like B+. B+ to me means time for family, friends, church: life. I'm proud of my B+, and if someone insisted I'd wear it on my chest like Hester's "A".

Back to beginning of the story: Dear Dr. Aveni: thank you for telling me this about myself. The distraction in my life you suffered from was Husband, then just Boyfriend but still very important. If life had been different I'd have loved to have you write me a recommendation to get into Chicago, do post-graduate work, devote my life to Meso-American everything. But it wasn't different, and I didn't, and I thank God for my B+.

Note: I did love this professor, and still do. Please don't get the idea that he was mean about this. Just disappointed, which in its own way also made me feel very good.