The Silent Epidemic of Overachieving

I will never forget the excitement of reading my acceptance letter from Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo in 1984. I had just graduated from Hayward High, and and was happy to start my college adventure.

Little did I know it was to be an adventure with lots of bumps in the road. I struggled in Anatomy & Physiology.  Majorly.  I had never worked so hard to earn an average grade. As a junior, I visited my adviser about a "D" I received on a lab test and he told me to relax and focus on finding a husband!

My hopes of med school vanished as I continued to earn "C's" in my science classes.

Even back then, students who aced the class came from San Ramon and Danville, just over the hill from where I grew up in the Hayward hills.

I thought "when I have kids, I'm raising them in schools that better prepare them for science and math." I first moved to San Ramon with just that idea in mind when my oldest son was about to enter first grade and my youngest was born.  Not much later, we moved to Danville.

However, now that my boys are ages 14 and 7 and in school,  I worry about how we define success in our kids in this town. I think maybe success shouldn't be emphasized quite so much.

My son, Blake, age 14 has led me to think about this issue. Unlike me— one of those "nut jobs" who loved school so much I  had a high GPA, was head cheerleader, editor of the yearbook, and student body president— my son does not love school.

"Why would anyone want to be a teacher?" he asks with a look on his face that rivals a toddler tasting processed green beans for the first time.  "I mean, teachers are so uptight… they always want to teach you stuff."

That's the point, I tell him.

I know my son's humor, ability to make friends easily, and determination when he does enjoy a subject will help him find his way.  But I also want him to care more about his grades, like school, and do well.  Especially when I moved to Danville to give him an opportunity for a better education. Yet, as my dear mother used to say, "He is not you."

It's a tough lesson to learn—where you end and your child begins.

I also worry that our community may not define success broadly enough, beyond good grades and participation in extracurricular activities.

The documentary film "Race to Nowhere" is about the pressure our society places on kids to succeed. It is dedicated to Devon, a 13-year-old Danville teen who committed suicide in 2008 after receiving her first bad grade in Math.

My 14-year-old son attended the same school as Devon and I will never forget his reaction to her death when he came home.  "She was really good in school mom and super nice." 

I remember thinking of all the times I checked my son's grades on the web-based program "School Loop." Maybe I needed to lay off his dropping grades and let go so he could learn to navigate middle school without my additional nagging.

In the film, one high-school aged student said: "We live in a society today where you have to be smart, and also pretty, and you have to be good in sports, and you have to be involved with art, and amongst all that you have to find something unique about yourself, and you have to know yourself before you do all that or you're going to lose yourself."

How profound.  And exhausting.  And unattainable for many kids.  The pressure is definitely on. 

Danville, like other affluent Tri-Valley towns and cities, is a town that is obsessed with great schools, success, and looking, well, darn-near perfect.  We've all seen the medical offices touting botox and face fillers to help us look younger, numerous gyms, spas and upscale boutiques.  True, there are many wonderful things about living in Danville—a town that boasts trees, parks, cafes, great schools,  low crime rates, and friendly people .  But I do worry about the pressure on our kids to fit the mold of success  and get accepted to a great college, a journey that begins for some in pre-school.

Maybe Hayward High didn't prepare me to be the best student academically. Although I grew up in the Hayward Hills, it certainly didn't boast the walking trails, lush landscape and adorable downtown we have in Danville. Yet, my former high school classmates from Hayward represent a diversity that has only recently started to grow in the Windermere area of Danville, close to where I now live.

Learning alongside a diverse group in Hayward and teaching my own students that have such different needs in Danville has helped me understand that there is not a cookie cutter mold for success.

As teachers and parents we can work on acknowledging the amazing strengths that our student or child brings to the table, discovering ways to redefine success such as team work, thinking "outside of the box," artistic or musical talent and helping in and outside our community.

I hope all of us can become aware of the pressure we might place on our young people and in turn, help them be happier and succeed.

"Race to Nowhere" is a documentary I suggest everyone see to be more conscientious of the pressure cooker that might set kids up for potential breakdowns. 

When it comes down to it, no matter where we live, don't we all want the same basic thing for our children— to be happy?

"Race to Nowhere"  will be screened at St. Elizabeth Seton Church in Pleasanton on May 18 at 7 pm and at Monte Vista High on June 1st from 7-9 p.m. There will be a discussion with the director following the film. Admission is $15. See the link for details and other screenings.