"Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."
This quote has been largely attributed to Albert Einstein by the internet. And who's going to argue with one of the greatest scientists of all time? It doesn't have to come out of a genius' mouth to be true: Obviously, fish can't climb trees. And if you try to make one, you will probably have a very frustrated, very dead fish on your hands.
My question is, why are the standards set for humans so different?
We certainly don't like to think it, but really, human beings are a part of the animal kingdom. And, due to our super developed brains, comparing two separate people really can be very similar to comparing a fish to a monkey. You'll be hard-pressed to find someone at Pearson who will admit that (the company we know and love for charging us an arm and a leg for textbooks and happily pushing standardized tests on us in high school), but it's true. Every person is unique in their talents and abilities, and there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, it's something that should be celebrated.
And, if you've chosen a career related to science, technology, engineering, or mathematics, you probably are celebrated for your intelligence and brilliant career aspirations. And you really should be! We appreciate all the amazing, innovative things you do every single day. The things you strive to do are so, so important.
But, so are a lot of other things.
In January of this year, my university hosted their first annual STEM day, an event where kids from surrounding elementary schools were invited to the campus to learn about science in a fun and engaging way. It was great to see kids so enthusiastic about learning, and especially wonderful to see the girls being encouraged to participate just as much as the boys. However, there is an aspect to all the hubbub surrounding STEM that can't be ignored.
It's the side that invalidates other passions due to their lack of perceived career options and "usefulness."
As happy as I was on the day that I saw all those kids so engaged in science, I couldn't help but think back to when I sat at a desk in high school listening to a STEM representative telling my classmates and I that our best shot at success is STEM – and only STEM.
When she first walked into the class, she asked us what we thought the letters stood for. The S, science, was easy. The E took a bit more time.
"English? Education?"
"Oh, not anymore," she said with a laugh, "No, that's not where people are finding careers in today's workforce." I glanced at my friend – she wanted to be a teacher – and she glanced back at me, the writer in training. Both of us sighed and slid lower into our seats, continually sinking even further down and becoming more distressed as we listened to our ambitions be undermined for the better part of an hour.
It seems unfair to push a STEM career onto someone who is more artistically or otherwise inclined. If someone said they wanted to be an engineer, would anyone ever insist that they try to be an artist? No! So why does the opposite scenario seem to happen so often?
The effects of the STEM frenzy are already starting to show. California reports enrollment in teaching programs is down a whopping 50 percent in the last five years alone, and that isn't the only state struggling to come up with good teachers. A world where everyone majors in STEM isn't just a world with an impossible to navigate job market, it's also a world without new music, art, books, amazing teachers and so many other things we take for granted.
The next time someone tells you their majoring in English, or music, or some other field that seems to scream passion over logic, stop yourself from showing skepticism and give them credit where it's due. Everyone has their own unique talents for a reason and the beautiful things they're capable of producing are important. Who knows, one day you might listen to that music major's new hit song while flying to work with your jet pack, courtesy of your local engineer.