“It should have been [the salutatorian], but I’m glad it was you.”
I remember staring blankly at one of my friends after he said that to me the day before my high school graduation. I was shocked that he actually had to nerve to tell me I didn’t deserve to be our class’s valedictorian.
I should have expected it.. I was very close with the boy who was the salutatorian. We took the same AP courses together and made very similar grades in them. He was better at calculus and science; I was better in English and government. Overall, though, we were pretty much the same.
So when people were surprised that I was named the Class of 2015 valedictorian, it struck a nerve. Even I was convinced that I wasn’t going to be valedictorian.
The reason people were shocked was because the salutatorian’s college plans were with a big-name military academy. When he was accepted, our principal announced it to the whole school. Everyone, including me, just expected he would be our valedictorian because of where he was going.
I feel like that I, on the other hand, came out of nowhere. My class knew that I was in every AP class I could take and made really good grades. But I wasn’t going to a big-name military academy. I wasn’t even going to a big state university. I was going to small liberal arts college in the middle of the state, the only person in my class attending there in the fall.
My accomplishments were demeaned, because I wasn’t going to a school in the SEC. It was almost like the administration at my high school was embarrassed that someone going to a small, virtually unknown school had a better average than their prized military academy nominee.
In the South, there is a stigma about the college you choose. High school students with decent grades are expected to go to a school with a large campus, a state name, and a big football program, even if they don’t particularly care for any of those three qualities. I’ve seen classmates and friends who, after only a year at a big-name college, transfer a smaller university because it’s too big and overwhelming.
So why is it that when someone decides to start off at the school that won’t overwhelm them, they’re seen as underachievers?
I knew I could handle the work-load at a large college. It’ wasn't an issue of a difficult curriculum. It's an issue of knowing where and how I could excel.
I’m not an underachiever because I learn better in a small class size where I can ask questions.
I’m not an underachiever because I learn better when the teacher knows my name, not my face.
I’m not an underachiever because I need to go directly to the professor when I have a problem, not a teaching assistant.
If anything, those qualities make me an overachiever, because I’ve evaluated myself close enough to know my strengths and weaknesses. I didn’t choose a school based simply off its name. I chose a school based off its ability to give me the learning environment that I need to succeed.
So if maintaining a 4.0 GPA my first year in college, being an officer in a sorority, and being involved in various college activities is underachieving because of the school I choose, then I guess I’m the biggest underachiever of all.
No matter what anyone said to me, I’m happy with my choice to attend a small school. My walks to class are less than ten minutes, I’ll never get lost on campus, and I have a better chance to make a close-knit group from the small student population. Because I’m at a small college, I’m able to be in a sorority where I know everyone’s name, make a lot of friends outside my Greek organization, and I’ll be able to finish college with a double major in three years.
But I guess none of that matters in a state where a 4.0 high school GPA means nothing without “Roll Tide” right behind it.
