The One Thing I Wish I Knew Growing Up
How to talk to girls. Wait, I still don't.
My parents grew up among the masses in China during the Cultural Revolution. After Mao died in 1976, they were part of the first wave of high school students nationwide attempting to enter colleges and universities, which had just opened their doors again. At this time, getting into college was an extremely competitive task, and the vast majority of students ended up finding a job instead. My parents were fortunate and hard-working enough to excel in their studies, attend good schools, and launch their careers off the back of a solid education. My dad eventually found his way to the United States for graduate studies, for which I am particularly grateful because I probably would not have been born otherwise (due to China's one-child policy).
As a kid, I grew up in Georgia and often heard my mother recount stories of their previous lives in China. I knew they grew up under meager living conditions, I knew they studied hard, I knew they ventured to America with no money but high hopes that my brother and I would have better lives. Although this is not an atypical immigrant story, it strongly shaped my identity in my early years, particularly because I stood out from my friends. However, there is one thing my mother told me on numerous occasions that I wish she had not ... that I was smart.
I can rationalize why my mother told me this. She wanted me to do well in school. From her personal experience, education held the key to social mobility. Perhaps a part of her was proud as well. She gave up a comfortable life in China mostly for my sake. She had to start over in a completely foreign environment, but if I succeeded, then it might all be worth it.
Over time I began to believe that I was indeed a smart child. I generally did well in school, especially in math, and I began to subconsciously seek out ways to affirm my belief. This involved avoiding any thoughts that would challenge this notion. For example, when I did less than stellar on an assignment, I would try to sweep it under the rug, perhaps by hiding it from my parents and myself. Even as a child, any failure at school would cause increasing amounts of anxiety as a threat to my self-image. A bad grade meant that I wasn't good enough, both in my eyes and in my mother's eyes (or so I thought), and no child wants to deal with that.
In middle school I competed extensively in math competitions and achieved some success. This made me quite happy but also had the terrible effect of feeding my huge ego. Looking back, I was probably not very fun to be around. I can recall many instances in which I was a huge -------. Anyway, I was fortunate enough to take part in an excellent math program led by a phenomenal coach. Learning math and attending competitions was fun and easy because most of my friends did it.
High school was an entirely different story. Academic pursuits outside of school required self-motivation, and while I still attended various events, I never found nearly as much success as before. Was this because I lacked the tools or resources to succeed, or that I suddenly got dumber? In retrospect, I am pretty sure the answer lies in my mindset. Throughout my life, I avoided failure and thus never learned to persevere through adversity. When faced with more challenging academic pursuits, I simply avoided giving my all for fear of failure.
Now, many years later, I finally understand this phenomena. Research has shown that when kids are told they are good at something (static attribute), they try to confirm their beliefs and tend to get discouraged when they fail. On the other hand, when kids are complimented on their effort, they are much more eager to improve after a poor showing. The first twenty years of my life could be summed up neatly by this study.
The older I get, the more I believe in the power of a growth mindset. I believe that most people are capable of accomplishing most tasks, as long as they have the right mentality. A couple of months ago, I was talking to a student from China about the music we listen to. The conversation moved to Michael Jackson, and he expressed amazement over MJ's dancing ability with, "I could never do that!" Immediately, I realized this singular focus on talent and natural-born ability, not unlike my mom's emphasis on intelligence. Michael Jackson was no doubt a talented performer, but he also spent thousands of hours perfecting his dance moves. In fact, his dancing noticeably improved from his earliest performances to his later ones.
I try very hard now to embrace opportunities to learn new skills or tasks. I enjoy picking up new hobbies, such as cooking or writing, because I have no expectations to live in fear of. Everything awful I produce (which is a lot of stuff) is a learning opportunity for future improvement. Not only that, but the growth mindset can be applied to character-building as well. We all know how remarkably difficult it is to change our behavioral habits. But instead of dwelling on our shortcomings, we should adopt the mindset of a novice trying to learn something new for the first time. For example, I am shy and do not particularly excel at striking up conversation with strangers. I also know that interacting with others is an important skill for life. What does this mean for networking events? Go in with a positive attitude, expect to sound dumb here and there, learn something for next time, and don't worry about how others perceive me. Each event is a personal quest to get better.
It's not easy to change the views I've held for most of my life, and I do find myself reverting back to stubbornness and arrogance quite often. Sometimes I wish I had learned the importance of the growth mindset at a young age, but on the other hand, coming to this realization on my own makes it so much more poignant and powerful in shaping my identity. Along the way, I had the pleasure of listening to a particularly helpful graduation speech that I will now leave you with (skip to 6:25):
As a kid, I grew up in Georgia and often heard my mother recount stories of their previous lives in China. I knew they grew up under meager living conditions, I knew they studied hard, I knew they ventured to America with no money but high hopes that my brother and I would have better lives. Although this is not an atypical immigrant story, it strongly shaped my identity in my early years, particularly because I stood out from my friends. However, there is one thing my mother told me on numerous occasions that I wish she had not ... that I was smart.
I can rationalize why my mother told me this. She wanted me to do well in school. From her personal experience, education held the key to social mobility. Perhaps a part of her was proud as well. She gave up a comfortable life in China mostly for my sake. She had to start over in a completely foreign environment, but if I succeeded, then it might all be worth it.
Over time I began to believe that I was indeed a smart child. I generally did well in school, especially in math, and I began to subconsciously seek out ways to affirm my belief. This involved avoiding any thoughts that would challenge this notion. For example, when I did less than stellar on an assignment, I would try to sweep it under the rug, perhaps by hiding it from my parents and myself. Even as a child, any failure at school would cause increasing amounts of anxiety as a threat to my self-image. A bad grade meant that I wasn't good enough, both in my eyes and in my mother's eyes (or so I thought), and no child wants to deal with that.
In middle school I competed extensively in math competitions and achieved some success. This made me quite happy but also had the terrible effect of feeding my huge ego. Looking back, I was probably not very fun to be around. I can recall many instances in which I was a huge -------. Anyway, I was fortunate enough to take part in an excellent math program led by a phenomenal coach. Learning math and attending competitions was fun and easy because most of my friends did it.
High school was an entirely different story. Academic pursuits outside of school required self-motivation, and while I still attended various events, I never found nearly as much success as before. Was this because I lacked the tools or resources to succeed, or that I suddenly got dumber? In retrospect, I am pretty sure the answer lies in my mindset. Throughout my life, I avoided failure and thus never learned to persevere through adversity. When faced with more challenging academic pursuits, I simply avoided giving my all for fear of failure.
Now, many years later, I finally understand this phenomena. Research has shown that when kids are told they are good at something (static attribute), they try to confirm their beliefs and tend to get discouraged when they fail. On the other hand, when kids are complimented on their effort, they are much more eager to improve after a poor showing. The first twenty years of my life could be summed up neatly by this study.
The older I get, the more I believe in the power of a growth mindset. I believe that most people are capable of accomplishing most tasks, as long as they have the right mentality. A couple of months ago, I was talking to a student from China about the music we listen to. The conversation moved to Michael Jackson, and he expressed amazement over MJ's dancing ability with, "I could never do that!" Immediately, I realized this singular focus on talent and natural-born ability, not unlike my mom's emphasis on intelligence. Michael Jackson was no doubt a talented performer, but he also spent thousands of hours perfecting his dance moves. In fact, his dancing noticeably improved from his earliest performances to his later ones.
I try very hard now to embrace opportunities to learn new skills or tasks. I enjoy picking up new hobbies, such as cooking or writing, because I have no expectations to live in fear of. Everything awful I produce (which is a lot of stuff) is a learning opportunity for future improvement. Not only that, but the growth mindset can be applied to character-building as well. We all know how remarkably difficult it is to change our behavioral habits. But instead of dwelling on our shortcomings, we should adopt the mindset of a novice trying to learn something new for the first time. For example, I am shy and do not particularly excel at striking up conversation with strangers. I also know that interacting with others is an important skill for life. What does this mean for networking events? Go in with a positive attitude, expect to sound dumb here and there, learn something for next time, and don't worry about how others perceive me. Each event is a personal quest to get better.
It's not easy to change the views I've held for most of my life, and I do find myself reverting back to stubbornness and arrogance quite often. Sometimes I wish I had learned the importance of the growth mindset at a young age, but on the other hand, coming to this realization on my own makes it so much more poignant and powerful in shaping my identity. Along the way, I had the pleasure of listening to a particularly helpful graduation speech that I will now leave you with (skip to 6:25):
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