Thoughts as of late

My thoughts, as of late:

I've been tutoring high school kids for over a year now and I've developed a problem. I can't stop seeing myself in their habits, specifically their bad habits. While I prepare myself, at least mentally, for graduate school, I have had to come to terms with how I embarked upon my former schooling. My curse, I know realize, was a slightly above-average intelligence coupled with a canny ability to memorize copious amounts of information in a snitch. My entire cognizant educational career was spent keeping myself securely "above average." As the eldest I never had someone to live up to or be better than. So with illimitable options, I chose the path of least resistance. It's sad, really.

As much as I preached about the power of literature and stories, I was woefully inept at finishing them. I only read one, yes one, assigned book in high school. I got so caught up in The Scarlet Letter that I stayed up late and finished it, as if that excitement makes my pity perusing habits any better. In college I wish I could say my habits improved, but most of my research papers revolved around books I had already read several times (Fahrenheit 451, 2 papers; Waiting for Godot, 5 papers). I read Silence and Blindness and House Behind the Cedars and yes folks, that is it for the books I read cover to cover when I was supposed to. Many I read 3/4 of but most were just skimmed over quickly (I also have a great talent for skimming.). I have only recently turned back to my neglected bookshelves to assiduously plow onward. I've had several delayed "Aha!" moments while reading. After reading, really reading this time, Life of Pi, I thought "Oh! So that's why Dr. Rankin wanted us to read it." I'll say it again, it's sad, really. At least these revelations are coming later rather than not at all.
It's embarrassing to say that I graduated with an BA in English, and I think I should feel ashamed. Instead of learning the satisfaction of hard work and dedication, I learned to be an excellent guesser. I learned to be shrewd and conniving. I learned to read into the questions and the answers choices on a test and discover patterns within classes and teachers. I learned to listen to other student's comments not with an open mind, but one that was sifting and calculating a response that could cast me in an advantageous "I've read this book and understand it" light. My degree feels falsified.

I know I can't be alone. I saw other students with the same hurried look, flipping pages as quickly as humanely possible without ripping them from the spine. I saw the look of anguish turned relief when a professor asked a question that was actually about the part you read. I remember the boasting, "I didn't open this until last night," "I only read 'til the 4th chapter," and "Wikipeida had a great summary." I should start a support group, just so we know we are not alone. We can all feel ashamed together. We can tend to our bruised egos and promise that next time, we'll be different. I'll bring muffins and french-pressed Colombian coffee and start the meeting by saying, "My name is Courtney, and I'm a mediocre student."

Most of my blog entries are dripping with solipsism, aren't they? I need to correct that.