There are many experiences that one encounter in his or her lifetime, but truly,a handful of these experiences are significant enough to leave an impact on our lives,whether positive or negative,in regards to how we think ,feel,and react. It is safe to say that these experiences have had a hand in shaping the person who we are today. With these experiences, in conjunction with the things that we are taught growing up, is what leads to our development as an individual ; cognitively, spiritually and how we view ourselves and the world. We take these experiences to heart,and refer back to them,as we go through a process or reacting ,acting ,and delivering when faced with these situations. These experiences,whether good or bad can lead to the makeup of our identity,and our internal perceptions. Throughout time, people have been obsessed with perfection.
From mathematics to mythology, we revel in the beauty of the ideal. This leads to a rather skewed view of how people are supposed to act and think. We are expected to do well at everything, and avoid failure and being wrong at all costs. A social hierarchy is all too often created in schools where those who get better grades are favored over those who, even though they may be just as smart as their high-performing peers, do not test as well.
It’s good to try and be the best we can be, but I also feel that sometimes we get wrapped up in this fear of failure and imperfection. Studying and trying to get a good grade on a test is one thing, freaking out and avoiding doing anything all together because you fear failing a test is another, and it’s not good.Boxing yourself into a certain role because you’re afraid of branching and failing is counterproductive. We can only improve by pushing our limits, and to do that we have to go through a process of trial and error.
Good scientists don’t do the same high school labs over and over; they try things that have never been done before. People try, and people sometimes fail and make mistakes, but that’s okay. It’s human nature.I took my first college class, psychology , in the fall of my junior year in high school. Before this, I had lived a somewhat sheltered academic career in which I could retake any assignment, test, or even class I felt I didn’t score high enough in. Psychology came with no such safety net—how well I did in this class would be kept on record forever in some mysterious room at Cardozo.
I only had one chance, and the thought both terrified me and spurred me on to do study as hard as I could, and to be the best that I could be. I got a C on my first midterm, and my two close friends both aced it.I felt like a failure. I knew that I could, should be able to do well in this class, but in my eyes I had completely and utterly failed this midterm.
At that point I could’ve given up and dropped