Ambition, Stepping Up, and the Olympics

My great grand niece is 13 years old, is already an accomplished swimmer,  and is ranked very highly in competitive standings. She is focused. She is poised. She is intelligent. And she has a major life goal to compete in the 2016 Olympics. This is not a “wouldn’t it be great if” goal, this is an honest-to-God goal toward which she expends a lot of physical energy in the pool and mental energy researching other swimmers’ progress.

I’m wondering how such folks get to this point at such a young age. There are a lot of very good swimmers out there. There are even some excellent swimmers. But how many have the vision and focus to exploit that excellence into larger-than-life (for most of us) goals that we are willing and able to act on?

Is the answer somehow rooted in the environment in which one grows up? Maybe so. I grew up in small town Kentucky, the son of working class poor folks who did not graduate from high school. In this environment it was difficult to surmount the obstacles, to see beyond the moment, and to take a goal and a talent and develop them despite all odds. On the other hand there are people in this small town who did.

But I wasn’t one of them. In the first place, I’m not sure I had any real talent, but if I did, it was really easy for me to not recognize it, to diminish it, to doubt it, and not to act on it. I also had no “goals”, larger-than-life, or otherwise, upon which to wrap my talents. I was insecure, shy, and believed that modesty, a sort of notion that one should not stand out too far—it wouldn’t look right—was a value. That last trait might be a product of this small town Kentucky value system. It was unseemly to aspire too high.

I remember one person in town talking about me, after I finished my Ph.D. (accidently, not as a result of an overwhelming goal), to a friend of mine about me, as reported to me later by this friend: “Damn, who does he think he is? What do you have to talk to him about? Ain’t he kind of uppity now? When’s the last time he had an actual job?”

In my elementary school back in the day, rooms were organized with the teacher’s desk in front, and a blackboard behind the desk. Students sat in connected desks, arranged in rows, bolted to the floor. In a lot of cases, seating was assigned in such a way as to encourage motivation (or so the theory must have gone). The student sitting in the first desk, on the right side of the teacher facing the classroom, was the “star”, having become so by successfully competing in academic contests, resulting in her moving to this “star” position. Of course that meant that the student sitting in the last desk at the end of the row on the teacher’s left was the dumb one. He (usually) was called dumb, and if pressed, would admit to being pretty dumb.

My “seating philosophy” called for me to avoid that dumb desk—teachers’ tended to pick on you in that seat. Some even threw things at you. However, I also wanted not to do so well as to find myself in that star seat—it might be unseemly—and students tended to pick on you. A nice safe desk was what I wanted. As I look back on it, I do believe this philosophy was held by most of my classmates.

The Valedictorian of my class had no problem with that star seat and was willing to put up with whatever fallout ensued. I think this was because he was a bright student with math talent who had a long-term and clear goal that went beyond the immediate seating situation. I remember his telling me several times, from elementary school on, that he was going to become a chemist and make lots of money. Now, this was not a “I’m going to compete in the Olympics” goal, but it was a strong goal for someone to achieve.

He did.

I graduated in the second slot. Safe seat.

In college, I was .2 percent points short of graduating with honors. Nice, safe seat.

Reflecting on my continued seating philosophy, I find my lack of motivation to sit in the front seat most instructive, believe I was not alone in that motivation, and believe that says a lot about where, when, and how I grew up. 

Despite the environment in which we grew up,  I believe we have all made important decisions, whether or not we knew it at the time, that have shaped who and what we have become. I’m not arguing the merits of positive thinking, goal setting, wishing upon stars, bootstrapping, or any particular self help program.

But, I’m wondering:

·       How a person grows up in an environment where having big, “stretch” goals is not encouraged and yet manages to achieve the extraordinary

·       How to define extraordinary achievement

·       If not having those extraordinary goals is a negative thing

And, I’m wondering:

·       What causes some people, like me, to play it safe, while others take large risks in their lives to achieve dreams and goals?

·       What’s wrong with playing it safe?

Let’s say you lack a clear-cut “calling” to things spectacular, buy into the notion that sitting in the middle of the classroom is better than at the front, and don’t rock the boat. What’s wrong with that?

Nothing, but “at the end of the day” (as you reach my age) you will wonder about the choices you made, and what you might have missed.

Let’s say you have a desire to be a rock and roll star,  aspire to that front seat, and don’t mind rocking the boat (pun intended). And you wind up playing good music in a sleazy bar barely making ends meet. What’s wrong with that?

Nothing, but “at the end of the day” (as you reach my age) you will wonder what might have happened if you had more sharply focused your talents and energies.

But let’s say you want to be an Olympic swimming champion, don’t care what people say about that ambition, aspire to that front seat, and don’t care about rocking boats. And you wind up competing at the Olympics. What’s wrong with that?

Nothing, and when you are my age you will look back with pride (which I’m saying is a good thing in this case, not one of the deadly sins).

My niece has a huge goal, huge talent, doesn’t abide by the seating charts that others create, and she probably will rock some boats. She plans to be an Olympic swimming champion competing in Rio. I think she has the right idea, and admire her for it.

I plan to be in Rio in 2016. Vicarious pleasures on my part.