"Why are you Smart?": An Interpretation on Academics

"Why are you Smart?": An Interpretation on Academics
Photo by Elijah Hail / Unsplash

I get this question a lot in school.

As a supposed intellect, people hold assumptions and expectations in high regard. It had me questioning how I have attained these results.

I don't study to the extent where I should be achieving.

If I studied more deliberately in my areas of weakness, I could grasp outstanding results from the typical A's that I usually get.

And hearing how people struggle, especially in Mathematical Methods, I pity them.

How come I can achieve these results effortlessly?

I still do my homework and classwork. It is the bare minimum for an ATAR course.

Resentment can still brew, "I do the homework as well! But I still get C's."

Feelings of anger manifest towards what seems like an invisible force constantly pushing us down when trying our very best.

I discussed this with another high academic achieving student, and he concluded that,

"Some things are just not for everyone."

That isn't very optimistic, is it?

It seems that school is unfair, even to the extent of life in general.

Yes, in essence, life is very unfair.

We cannot control the parents we were birthed by, where we grew up, or how we were raised.

This seems to be a very determinist view of life, but we can still take some responsibility for what is in our control.

The act of taking responsibility with school, one's work ethic, study habits and approach to academics can play a much more significant role.

"He is not smarter. He just has a better understanding of the fundamentals."

I sometimes hypothesise that primary school played a huge role in high school academics.

For the most part, I was an average student.

Specifically, from and after grade 5, I started getting A's.

Why?

I don't fucking know.

I'd like to think it didn't come down to a switch that had magically turned on in my head.

In grade 5, our teacher made us do math problems every morning: three-digit multiplication and long division.

Perhaps this repetition and practice created a human being capable of A's.

What about the rest of the class?

From those I can remember, not everyone became an A student.

The year before, I was put into a class with two remarkably bright people: one moved up a grade, and the other would later be in the spelling bee. A crush on the former and friends with the latter.

Remembering my time, some of the activities, I think for maths, had us split into two groups, those who were more advanced, and basic maths.

It's a bit blurry, but I think I was put into both, either being in general to advanced or moving back.

(I am an unreliable narrator for recalling these memories.)

Perhaps surrounding myself with these people who were more intelligent than me, I grew an admiration for them; that subsequently had me become them.

My friend, whom I called a 'Brainiac' at the time, is what I would describe as the negative side of academics.

An obsession with being right.

We had a lesson in maths about containers of different shapes having the same volume. Before the demonstration, we had to make a prediction.

Both of us said that the same amount of water won't fill.

After being proved wrong, I noticed he rubbed out his predictions and changed them.

I thought of mentioning it to him, but I let it go.

He was also quite arrogant about being smart, wearing it like a badge of honour.

(I think he's gotten a lot better. I haven't spoken in a while. When I do sometimes see him, we still say g'day.)

In grade 6, when I fully established that I had smarts, I was confident in saying so.

For an art project: our class had to choose an animal then sculpt it out of clay.

I chose an owl.

People questioned why I made a sculpture of an owl, and I would confidently say,

"I am as wise as an owl!"

Indirectly, I had created the foundations of my academic results.

It is hard to achieve A's if you don't think you are bright to begin with.

Because I thought of myself as intelligent, surrounded by like-minded people, I became intelligent.

It's still a hypothesis.

But to think I have a grasp of the fundamentals, such as believing in my ability to be intelligent and the actual fundamentals, ultimately created the results I have achieved.

"All I can ask for you is your best."

My grade 11 Digital Solutions teacher would reiterate this, especially during assessment times.

It also reminds me of what my father would say, "Do your best."

What is our best?

It's usually associated with how much effort we put in. Pushing it to our extreme, resulting in a product that is our best.

How can you achieve results that are beyond your capabilities?

It kept us optimistic as students, knowing that the result we got was our best.

And we cannot be disappointed at our best; the act in itself is an achievement.

What if we are not satisfied with our best?

That's the wrong way to think about it.

If you're not satisfied with you're best: then what will satisfy you?

If we've established that anything beyond your best is unachievable, then how?

Perhaps with deliberate practice, what is considered 'our best' improves.

Does effort equate to the amount of time we put into something? Possibly.

It usually takes 10,000 hours of practice for someone to be a master at their craft.

Like any skill, academics can be built through effective practice and study. And if we seek a result beyond our skills, it is impossible.

But with 'our best' think in terms of effort, not results.

Although we can think we have control over our results, most of our control can only go into effort and action. You cannot determine your result; the curriculum does that.

But it isn't an excuse to not try at all.

"There's a difference between knowing and understanding."

I love these quotes said by teachers.

They are usually not emphasised as much as they should be, but they provide much insight.

To provide context, this was said during Math Methods, the 'middle maths' between Math General and Math Specialists. Although, we all know, as students, that it leans more towards the harder side of mathematics.

The quote resonates with me is it partly explains why I can achieve such high achievements.

I understand why.

Why a particular formula, process or solution is used for certain problems.

I do not see content for its face value.

Rather than accepting information for what it is, I have an intrinsic curiosity to understand it thoroughly to a point it can be self explainable.

I have such a deep understanding that I construct the missing knowledge.

Even on the marking criteria: a student who demonstrate high levels of thinking; if they understand knowledge and apply it to different situations.

Then how can one achieve this?

A general curiosity for a subject; an outlook that welcomes challenges.

I will even admit it can get tedious. There can only be a true passion for a subject if you genuinely enjoy it.

With passion, a burning drive to fully understand the content.

The reasoning of "I need to understand this to get a better grade" is not as strong as the strong desire to learn.

Is it your fault you don't understand the concepts?

Yet. Not yet.

If you don't understand, ask questions!

Your teachers will throw about the phrase,

"No question is a stupid question."

"Someone might also have the same question."

And it is all true.

Be selfish about your pursuit of learning.

The first step is admitting you don't understand.

I still need to take this advice to heart: especially in Specialist Mathematics.

But don't be afraid to ask.


What About IQ, or Your Genetics?

Potentially, this is an unfair advantage for some students.

Being blessed with the right genetics of your mum and dad influence the capacity to learn might have to do with it.

I like to not focus on it a lot.

When I get the off-hand remark about how my half-Asian heritage played a role in my results, I play it off.

The mindset should be that not everything is already determined.

With me, I haven't wanted to find out my IQ.

Firstly, I do the test, to find out I have to pay money!

Maybe that's the ultimate test, spending $20 on a test.

Secondly, I do not want to be limited by a number.

That number does not determine what great things I can achieve.

Only I can do that.

In ignorance: I can go through life without worrying if my IQ will limit me from my ambition and potential.


We Are Only Judged by the Curriculum

If you're not great at academics, that's ok.

We are judged against concrete marking criteria.

There is no leniency or wiggle room.

What matters is we do our best, despite what is outside of our control, pursue with curiosity and grow.

I ask myself how much great literature, art, and texts would be given a C, even with their gathered success.

A blank canvas can be sold for millions and probably given an E.

What is success?

To the curriculum, it's a C.

In life, it's what you make of it.

Success is relative.

It's up to you to define it.