Success

This entry is a long time coming.  Well, long in the sense that I have been thinking about it for a week or so, which is much longer than I think about most of my entries before I write them.  But I have been thinking about this one and whether I actually wanted to put this in writing.  Am I embarassed?  Maybe.  Nervous?  Yes.  Should I be either?  Well, by the end of this entry, I at least hope not. 

Time to get this out.

Here is the thing (and it has haunted me for the last 15 years):  I was voted "Most Likely to Succeed" by my high school class. 

(Good grief.  My heart just started pumping with anxiety and nervousness as I wrote that. I might need to go to therapy.  Seriously.)

Flash back to high school:  When it was time to fill in the blanks on the senior superlative sheet, people commented to me that they were going to vote for me.  I pleaded with those people to not vote me as most likely to succeed.  I absolutely, positively, did not want that "honor."  But I got it.  And from the minute that I was granted the title, I felt like it was a set up for failure.  I wondered if my high school classmates would look at me 15 years later and laugh..."Ha!  Look at her!!  Most likely to succeed?!?"  Pathetic, I realize, but you don't even know how many times that thought has crossed my mind.  Should I major in this or that?  Well, which one would lead me to greater success?  Because I can't let down my classmates.  Can you believe I considered this "title" when making life decisions?  Luckily, I also knew that I needed to follow my heart and that in the end, some title printed in a high school yearbook didn't really weigh all that much in my life.

But it has still bothered me.

A lot.

Well, a lot at times. Because I certainly don't think about it all the time.  But I do think about it.  There are some times that it bothers me more than others.  (Maybe for different reasons than it used to.)  Like, when my students are stressed about what classes to take during their senior year and they are all telling me that they want to be doctors, or engineers, or veterinarians...you know, those majors that scream "success."  Because what bright-futured, optimistic, junior in high school doesn't want to be successful?  And how do you measure success?

Yes, how do you measure success? 

I didn't want to be voted "most likely to succeed."  Because, even as a young, naive, and ambitious teenager I never felt like I would make a very happy doctor or lawyer or politician.  I thought about engineering, but really only because I am good at that kind of thing and thought it might make me a nice paycheck.  But I knew from my freshman year in college that I could never truly be happy in life with a job as an engineer.  I knew I could go in whatever direction I chose, do whatever I wanted to do, but what I wanted most was to be happy.  I didn't want that superlative title, because I didn't want to be judged based on it.  I didn't want that title because I never thought I could change the world. 

How do you measure success?

In the teenage world that I reside in for about forty hours a week, unfortunately, success is measured by what college you go to.  It is measured by how much money you make.  It is measured by the prestige that your career is awarded by society.  I'm pretty sure I fall short in all three of those categories, if I am to be judged by the juniors and seniors that I stand in front of.

For a while, I, too, thought of my success as measured in dollar amounts and prestige.  There was even a brief moment that I thought I had picked an inadequate career.  I can't tell you how wrong I was.  My career is perfect.  It is perfect because I love it.  And I can think of no better career for me.  And it is perfect because I am happy.  And the bottom line is that my career is no longer my greatest measure of success at all.  Because I would be successful without it.

Sometimes, I view my success from the eyes of others, when really, I just need to look through my own eyes and see what I have around me.  See the modest house and modest posessions that are quite enough.  See what I have in my life.  See my husband and my children.  See the love and see the happiness.  See that I have changed the world.

My friend, Danielle, recently put this quote on her facebook page, and I plan to make sure that my kids are very familiar with it throughout their lives.  Though I have read it before, it just may have changed my life.  Because now, 15 years later, title or not, and regardless of who judges me, there is no doubt in my mind that I have succeeded.

To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

Ralph Waldo Emerson