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January 06, 2005
Creative Writing
There once was a girl who was too ______ to be ______. (750-1000 words)
There once was a girl who was too smart to be happy.
Overly ambitious and hating the dreary mist of the Pacific Northwest, for she didn’t discover until later that there are two types of people: East Coast People and West Coast People—and she was definitely an East Coast Person (who secretly wanted to be a mysterious International Person), she sped through college in two years. Switching from pre-med to political science halfway through, she ended up with a background in science and the humanities. Unfortunately, a degree in political science—no matter how brilliant the recipient—is about as useful as a degree in English literature, which is to say not very useful at all. Another rushed university experience got her a graduate degree in political science and taught her that there are two other kinds of people: Country People and City People, and she was definitely not a Country Person, although she suspected she might be a Vacation Home In The Country Person with a little good fortune.
A year spent working for the U.S. Senate—an inevitable choice, considering graduates in political science either work for the government or for minimum-wage retail establishments—as a glorified desk-filler and occasional photocopier led to another job in finance. She capitalized on her research skills and her ability to convince people that what she wanted was, in fact, what they wanted, to smooth the transition into this new field.
Things went well for a couple of years. She had a wide circle of friends, was financially independent, and managed to have satisfying—if not excellent—sex on a regular basis. She read voraciously, shopped frequently, dined out with alarming disregard for her budget, and even managed to support her favorite charities. Of course, there were frustrations—trifles really—the utter lack of a serious boyfriend at a time when all her friends were pairing off, a nagging feeling that her mother was disappointed daily by her deficiency of Christian faith, a suspicion that she was letting her youth slip by without taking full advantage of the frivolities allowed to twenty-somethings. Despite these minor setbacks, however, it was her job that made her crazy.
She decided that the worst job was the one that had potential to be fulfilling and yet consistently fell short. Later, when she had moved to Sweden to pursue another graduate degree primarily as a way to leave her job with dignity, she came to understand that this “fulfillment gap” was the central issue with all of her problems. It was when a situation failed to meet her expectations that she was the most angry, the most despondent. When things were inherently weak, clumsy, and stupid, she could accept the situation and move forward. It was when things had potential—failed potential—that she went crazy. She observed that there are two kinds of people: those who can accept failed potential and adjust their expectations to a lower standard in a way that allows them to move on with their lives in a productive way and those that make it their personal mission to reallocate resources, play devil’s advocate, confront authority, alienate colleagues, and stymie personal advancement all for the sake of realizing a situation’s unrealized—or, more likely, failed—potential.
So now the girl, fraught with self-loathing at falling into the second category because she realizes that these people rarely achieve the change they long to see, and in fact usually end up morose, sullen, and persona non grata, faces a conundrum. How can she lower her expectations of the world so that every job, every relationship, every pursuit, is not a disappointment? How does she lower her standards without compromising her integrity?
Her friends helpfully point out that she can’t fight every battle. Her mother wonders aloud if it isn’t peculiar the way the girl is never satisfied with the performance of her superiors? Might this problem, it is delicately asked, be hubris?
Perhaps, she concedes. And yet…should she not expect people to be as smart as she is? Should people be allowed to exercise incompetence—particularly in positions of authority? Should people be relieved of the burden of accountability? How shall she navigate a world where her clear superiority, while recognized in many cases—although often characterized as youthful arrogance, is used against her? Why should she have to pay dues to a system that is limping along when changes could so easily be made?
The girl acknowledges that this clear superiority may, in fact, have tinges of youthful arrogance. At the same time, she insists, genius often goes unrecognized at the time of its greatest brilliance. After surveying history, she decides that her best shot is to aim for glory after death. This prospect, she admits, does not make a smart girl happy. But then, manic dissatisfaction appears to be a hallmark of great minds.
