Reschooling Reasons

People-Pleasing, Perfectionism, and Ten Reasons to Reschool

I’ve been drafting an official project proposal for Reschool Yourself bit by bit for months now, and intensively for the last week. As hard as I’ve worked, I’ve been unable to craft my countless notes into a cohesive, inspiring proposal. The very reason it’s taken me so long to craft a full project proposal is evidence for why I’m reschooling myself in the first place.

I have invested hours and hours detailing measurable goals and outcomes, doing research to support my arguments, and shaping the proposal into the format that most funders require. The result? Writer’s block in the attempt to communicate my ideas perfectly. Several drafts of lifeless rhetoric devoid of the passion that fuels this project. Exasperation with my inability to speak from the heart when I know I’ll be evaluated. School has trained me so well that I can’t stop behaving like an overachieving student even when it doesn’t serve me. And in adulthood, it doesn’t serve me very often at all.

In fact, the two qualities that were keys to my success in school have limited my success as an adult: people-pleasing and perfectionism.

People-Pleasing

Early in childhood, I learned to sense what people – especially authority figures – wanted from me, and that I would be rewarded for giving it to them. Now, as an adult, the rewards for people-pleasing aren’t so great. I often say yes to commitments just because I’d feel guilty saying no. I regularly sacrifice my own well-being for the sake of others, a story shared by many fellow nonprofiteers and educators. I unconsciously seek a “Wow” factor in the things that I do to replicate the affirmation that I got in school.

I know that I could be more effective, and generally happier, if I could just determine what I wanted to do, and then do it. It sounds simple, but after spending around 20,000 hours* in school doing what was expected of me, I’m out of touch with what I actually want to do.

* A very rough estimate of time I’ve spent in school from kindergarten through college, based on an 180-day average school year during K-12 and a quarter system in college.

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Reschooling Reason #3: Start with a Clean Slate

SlateI’m spending the week in Jackson, Mississippi, visiting my boyfriend. Darren is a graphic designer and one of my sister’s best friends from Loyola University, New Orleans. If you’re wondering how we met, we hit it off in February at Mardi Gras. Nothing spells romance like applying eyeliner to a pirate in a pink bandana while he whines, “Agggh! It feels like you’re drawing on my eyeball!”

One of my priorities for this visit — besides consuming all the buttery delicacies that the south has to offer — is for Darren to help me revamp the Reschool Yourself site. Lucky for me, he can understand language like, “The objective of the WP-SuperCache is to make the site static and not run any PHP” — yet has never memorized pi to the 100th digit, or attended a Star Wars-themed wedding.

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Reschooling Reason #2: Be a Grown-Up with No Regrets

WitchesI have a confession to make: Like a fairy tale witch, I secretly long to steal the youth of innocent children. When I see kids running about, carefree and laughing, I don’t think, “How wonderful, to be young!” Instead, I’m wildly jealous. These kids don’t have any debt, or much emotional baggage; they’re able to enjoy whatever they’re doing at the moment without dwelling on what happened yesterday or what will happen five years from today. They speak and act freely without concern for what others will think. Their instincts are intact, and their futures are wide open.

We grown-ups, on the other hand, have often made choices that limited our options. We may have mismanaged our money, failed to reach our potential in our schooling or career, or had kids of our own before we’d had enough time to be kids ourselves. These choices may have made us less playful and imaginative, and more stymied and fearful.

I expect that I’d be less jealous of kids if I could have a completely fresh start, putting any limiting experiences behind me and reconnecting with the optimism and self-assurance that I had as a child. I would like to return to square one and begin again, living my life completely on my terms without regrets or complaints. If I succeed in doing this, maybe I’ll become content with the grown-up life I’ve chosen. At the least, I hope to avoid becoming Old Lady Dicker, the resentful hag who throws rocks at the children who pass by her rundown shack.

This post is part of the series “Why Reschool?”

Reschooling Reason #1: Cure Impostor’s Syndrome

After 28 years on the planet, there is a lot I do know. I know how to make gourmet breakfasts in 5 minutes flat. I know when to use “who” versus “whom,” and how to offer constructive feedback to others. I also admit that my brain cells are being used to store all the lyrics to Young MC’s “Bust a Move” and dialogue from the movie 3 Ninjas.

Then there are the myriad things I don’t know. When Benazir Bhutto was assassinated, I had no idea who she was, nor who her father was. For a long time, I was embarrassed not to understand the sub-prime lending crisis. If I happened to get lost in a forest, I would be eaten by wolves before I could navigate my way out or build shelter. I imagine that I could learn these things if I just dedicated a bit of time, but it never seems to materialize.

I am a firm believer that knowing where to find the answers is much more important than knowing them cold. That said, it’s tough to sneak a Wikipedia search on my Blackberry when the crisis in Darfur comes up in conversation. I would feel a lot more self-assured if my knowledge exceeded the Tarzan level: “Global warming: bad. Civil rights: good.”

My familiarity with many subjects reminds me of a Woody Allen quote: “I took a speed reading course and read ‘War and Peace’ in twenty minutes. It involves Russia.” A friend of mine calls this “Impostor Syndrome”—knowing just enough to appear informed about a subject, fearing that at any moment someone will ask a question that reveals your ignorance. In a recent radio broadcast, This American Life called this charade “Modern Jackass.”

Instead of thinking, “I wish I had time to learn more about __________” (salsa dancing, the African Diaspora, designing web pages), as I have done for years, and constantly feeling ashamed at all the things I “should” know by now, I am finally going to make the time to learn them. I imagine that you have your own list, and I hope that you’ll join me in seeking a cure for Impostor’s Syndrome and ridding the planet of another modern jackass.

This post is part of the series “Why Reschool?”