It’s exciting when you meet a student who possesses the potential you are certain will surpass your own achievements. As a college admissions consultant who also mentors students, I have had the pleasure of meeting numerous students like that.
How do I assess these high potential, high performing students?
There are a variety of factors. They range from the intellectual interests they pursue like sustainable agriculture, astrophysics, and reading literature I’m intimidated to even touch, to the work ethic I witness them apply towards leading their communities, building projects, creating art, and inventing software.
But where I am most in awe is how they articulate their thoughts, perspectives, and interests. This includes speaking, but where I assess it the most is in their writing, where they become craftspersons of their thoughts. It’s when their raw intellect is mined for ideas that are then refined into multi-faceted gems and shaped into sharp insights. What’s even more impressive (and embarrassing) is that English is these students’ second language.
I’m grateful there is such a strong number of students who don’t hesitate to take action on their curiosities, to find other motivated students to collaborate on podcasts or build an charity-focused app together, and will act on their own ideas, interests, and values. They give me hope that the future will indeed get better. They inspire me to continue mentoring the bright and driven so that they pursue more than just a paycheck as an outcome of their education.
But what about students who have high potential, but low performance?
Not every student I work are like the ones I just described though. There are another category of students I work with and worry about. These students possess the same raw intelligence and creativity, but lack the drive and discipline to apply it towards creating impact and positive change, let alone proactively pursue their interests.
It’s easy to write these students off as “smart but lazy.”
But calling them lazy is lazy of me as a mentor. It resigns to not trying just because I think they’re not trying.
But what if they’re not lazy?
What if instead they’re scared? What if they’re too terrified to take creative risks? What if they’re petrified by possibilities of being rejected and embarrassed (which feels like death to a teenager)? What if they have not yet learned one of the most important insights they could gain as a young adult? That failing doesn’t make them a failure. That failing is not permanent. That what feels like failing (making mistakes) is really just the process of discovering what doesn’t work and is actually necessary to figure out what does.
While these students perform well academically, they aren’t living up to their potential in pursuing work outside of class that interests them and creating something of substance. I don’t think they’re lazy. They’re more likely scared. They aren’t used to living lives of pursuing their own ideas of interesting, substance, and success.
So what do we do if we care? How do we help students with such high potential to do more than just get good grades at school, and we can tell care about and want to do more than just that too?
The Theory
I have a theory. These students’ inaction reflect my own cowardice, my own lack of integrity in taking actions and leading a life that honors my own ambitions and interests. If I want them to be courageous and driven, I have to make sure I am too, so I can show them how and they can see how it’s done.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. It’s not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Teaching these students how to organize their schedules and calendars, clean up their code, or deliver a pitch (skills) is not the same as inspiring them to face their fears, act in alignment with their values, and challenge themselves (character).
We can help students, young people, and others with high potential but low performance not by criticizing their inaction, but by modeling the attitudes and actions we hope to see in them. We pursue paths of courage and challenge and invite them to join.
It doesn’t guarantee they will grow, but it gives them a greater chance to do so.
