Sophomore year of college I took a class called Comparative Literature. The entire course went as follows: read a portion of a book, talk about it in class, finish the rest of the book, talk about it some more in class, write a paper on said book, repeat. It was a combo of some of my favorite things, so naturally, I enjoyed the course.
Anyway, like I mentioned, I had to write papers for each of the books I read. I’ve always liked writing papers. I would rather write 100 papers than take a test. In fact, I like writing so much that I’ve written friends’ papers (not my most ethical moments), college essays, personal statements, important notices and emails for a few small businesses, resumes, cover letters, and the occasional intimidating text message. I’m pretty much the designated writer and editor for my family and friends, and I thoroughly enjoy that title.
So, when I wrote the first essay for my Comp Lit class, I didn’t think twice about my ability to put together a cohesive, comprehensive paper. When I finished it, I handed it in and moved on with my life.
I remember getting my grade back: B-, Blackboard said. It was a simple black and white letter grade, but I read it more like B-?!?! as if the screen were yelling at me.
What did I do wrong? Where did I make mistakes? How could it be so bad? Let it be known that a B- isn’t even that bad, but I was a psychotic student so that wasn’t good for me.
Thankfully, we had the opportunity to do revisions, so I took my professor’s edits and corrected my paper. After putting in some more work, I resubmitted my new and improved essay just to get back a B.
I went on to write multiple essays that got low grades. I found myself at my professor’s office hours asking how I could improve, what I needed to work on, where my weaknesses were, and so on. I took meticulous notes, applied all of her suggestions, rewrote every essay that got a low grade, and completed all the extra credit opportunities that were available. I spent so much time trying to do exactly what she wanted me to that I ended up not enjoying any of the papers I had to write for that class.
I know I’m not a flawless writer. I know there are areas I can work on. I know that being open to criticism and critique is part of the process for honing in on this skill.
I also knew that I had to take all of my professor’s recommendations and incorporate them into every essay I wrote in order to get a good grade, and consequently, I had to let my creativity fall to the wayside.
Now, writing is clearly a very varied subject. The way one would write an email is completely different from how one would write a research paper. Content, context, and audience determine how one lays out an idea or message. You could easily say that my creativity and ideas had no place in an essay that was supposed to be tailored to a thesis for a book. You’d actually be semi-correct in stating that.
My professor was an extremely intelligent, articulate, and educated woman. She knew what she was talking about, and I respected the hell out of her. All of her recommendations and edits were valuable and appreciated. I wasn’t butt hurt that my work wasn’t getting an A+. I was getting exactly the grades I deserved based on the rubric for the assignments.
Let’s reread that last sentence: “I was getting exactly the grades I deserved based on the rubric for the assignments.”
Why am I calling attention to that sentence?
There have been so many times I have looked at a situation that I’ve been in and wondered why I didn’t prevail. Why was I falling short? What was I doing wrong? This whole essay debacle taught me that there are times we compare ourselves to a system that has an entirely different set of criteria from our own.
For example, I see myself as a decent writer. My professor would have likely argued. You may see yourself as a good friend. Your friends may argue against that. Or, you may see yourself as a good partner, and your partner may say otherwise.
We’re evaluating the same thing, right? But we’re not using the same rubric. That is why we have different answers. I was writing essays for my class based on how I would write a loosely-structured paper— in other words, with not much direction. I was then wondering why I was getting low grades, and as the semester went on, I realized the answer wasn’t in the fact that I was a poor writer. It was in the fact that I was being evaluated on writing a strictly formatted essay— something I was clearly not doing.
This lesson was really important for me to learn. It made me aware of the fact that we are evaluated based on a million and one different versions of rubrics that each individual person has hand-crafted. Even if it’s not written out and visible to the eye, people follow some sort of “checklist”, if you will, for how they evaluate anything you do. That’s good for some stuff. It’s also deadly for some others.
It’s deadly when your worth sits upon a set of criteria that you will never live up to. When you lose track of the fact that their set of ideals are not yours, you lose your ability to see your own power. I was never going to be the poster child for Comp Lit essays. That just wasn’t my forte. But that also doesn’t mean I’m a shitty writer and can’t start a blog with an entirely different set of criteria.
Make sure you’re aware of the fact that everything in life has an unwritten rubric. In the times you want harmony and peace in your relationships, have conversations with people about what you both are evaluating the other on. In the times you want harmony and peace with yourself, use your own rubric.
Smart !