Help Wanted

Not that it matters to most students, or most universities for that matter, but several hundred test-takers score a 1600 on the SAT each year. Some of these kiddos with "perfect" scores are admitted to highly competitive colleges (HSCs), some not. As one HSC admissions counselor pointed out, "we could fill our first year class with valedictorians with 1600 SATs."

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I had the pleasure of working with one such "top" kid not so long ago-a pleasure because he was intellectually curious and we talked about a range of topics, not just because he was smart. "William" had read widely and thought deeply about books that had not been assigned. He even taught me a bit about cryptography, an obscure but totally cool topic.

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Warning: Math Anecdote. Feel free to skip these two paragraphs if you are not in a "math-y" mood just now. William and I stumbled upon a 650-digit odd number in our perambulations. William said, "That number is prime." Flabbergasted I stuttered, "How can you possibly know that?" William allowed himself a slight smile. "I've seen that number before," he said.

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As math anecdotes go-for better or worse--this is as hilarious as hilarious gets. There are a lot of 650-digit numbers. No one can recognize a number with that many digits

 

In any case, I felt confident that in a competition of those several hundred kids with perfect SAT scores, "William" would have again scored at the top of the bunch as well. He had effortlessly taken every advance placement course his large suburban high school had to offer and was graduated as the sole valedictorian. Subsequently, William matriculated at the University of Chicago with a double major in mathematics and physics. His doctoral degree in computer science is from Carnegie Mellon. Now he works for one of those California places where they wash, dry, and fold his laundry for him. There are several cafeterias on the campus as well as Ping-Pong and air hockey tables. William's only job responsibility is to "think about things." Some of the things he apparently thinks about include the future of computers and robots. You know those folks who design those computer thingies to go in those rocket thingies that go to those planet thingies? William is one of those folks.

The point-"finally" it could be said-is that William was completely and utterly incapable of writing his college admissions essays. He would come to our weekly meetings, tail between his legs, apologetic, and ashamed. He meant to get the essays written, but hadn't. He just couldn't seem to get any admissions essay writing done at home.

 

So, I helped him. I helped him by saying, "William, sit there in that chair and write your darn essay." Which of course he did. And every appropriate milestone in his life followed. I'm not claiming credit for his amazing job and huge salary. I'm just saying I was honored to have been part of a winning team.

 

But what if we had taken another course? What if I had said, "You didn't write your essays at home like I told you? Clearly, you are not college material." What if I had blocked the path of this brilliant kid? What if I had insisted, "If you're not motivated enough to get your essays done, you're not determined enough to go to university?"

Which is what I hear from well-intentioned parents and counselors pretty much constantly. The slippery slope gets slippery in a hurry as the following examples will suggest:

"How can he do his homework? He can't even remember to bring home his book." I would argue that remembering to bring home a book and being able to do the homework are two entirely different skill sets. Parents who can facilitate the latter by helping out with the former are encouraged to do so. Allowing a kid to not turn in homework because she can't remember to bring home the book is a recipe for greater subsequent failure. Nobody ever learned to remember a book based on getting in trouble for not turning in homework.

And it gets worse. "How can she major in math? She can't organize, research, and write a 30-page English paper." "How can he major in English? He can't even get through introductory math." "How can he play basketball in college? He can't even pass calculus." "How can he take calculus? He can't even make the college basketball team." 

One skill has nothing to do with the other.

 

In a perfect world we would all have perfect children who could perfectly accomplish each and every perfect task in every discipline. In the real world, we keep our expectations high, but we help out when we need to. Our support is what allows our kids to achieve to the best of their ability--with PhDs in computer science and working on the future of computers for example.