One of my teachers recently played a parody of a commencement address, often falsely attributed to Kurt Vonnegut. In the address, numerous pieces of advice range from pleas not to read beauty magazines to ardent reminders of the magical effects of sunscreen. As I listened to the light-hearted advice, one comment stood out from the rest: “Remember the compliments. Forget the insults.”
Naturally, many of us want to seek out the positives rather than the negatives. After all, time spent laughing, relaxing, or achieving certain goals brings a rush of joy that is preferable to those occasions in which we are not as “happy.” Entering LM, many sought out accomplishments with athletic or extracurricular teams or to get most out of many of their relationships with friends and others. If I were asked to recall memories from high school, I would first relate expeditions with friends or academic accomplishments and the joy I felt in those moments. However, this would merely represent the memories that I initially would choose to share. Intertwined with that joy are the social situations which have left me disappointed and the harsh comments shared by some of my instructors.
Those ideas are not particularly profound. Of course, “the bad” often balances “the good.” Yet, much like the parody’s call to “forget the insults,” I have heard much advice to block out the bad. Slogans like “f*** the haters” operate as a guidance for how to respond to those that may seem to challenge oneself. Granted, in some instances, there may be individuals who may criticize one solely for the purpose of hurting them. I agree with the address, a pure insult produces nothing productive, and can be hateful or discriminatory. Yet, I found that sometimes the interpretations of the differences between constructive criticism and insults are muddled. I have seen several Reels and heard many express fury at “their English teacher grading them by how much they like them.” In passing off such grades (and such constructive criticism that they receive) as the product of their teacher’s assessment of their character, that criticism becomes an insult, something one is likely to find difficult to accept. To the student, a comment about their style, content, or work, seems to be a personal affront.
As the lines can get muddled between constructive feedback and insults, the attitude of forgetting haters and insults may block out opportunities for growth. Besides poor grades, failures in other outlets may mistakenly be construed to seem like the product of an insult. I am guilty of this myself, sometimes questioning debate judges’ assessments of my character when handing my partner and me a loss (although one time the judge did admit that both teams tied and he ruled on more subjective factors). With the lines confused between criticisms and insults, negative results in classes and extracurriculars can be almost ignored. Whether grades get inflated too much or one attempts to block any memory of a failure, the negative outcomes are stigmatized and many attempts are made to change them. The college application does influence this, where no matter how colleges say they value seeing students work through challenges and failures, they focus on the highlights of one’s high school experience. Thus, in some student’s pursuit to represent high school and their surrounding social life as an agglomeration of stardom (not just for the college application), the rigor and value of pursuits can be watered down. More importantly, we miss opportunities to acknowledge where we can grow. As referenced by Fyodor Dostoevsky in The Brothers Karamazov, one “who lies to [oneself] can be more easily offended than anyone else.”
In attempting to paint many different outlets as being successes and passing off opportunities to grow from failures as someone else’s shortcoming, I am reminded of a fear akin to that in the Barbie movie which Barbie’s friends held when Barbie began to question her morality. Notably, by the end of the movie, Barbie chooses to abandon any attempt at reaching the perfection that was once cultivated in Barbieland. (I am in no way criticizing Barbieland’s matriarchy, merely the cultivation of perfection.) The image of perfection was not only suffocating, but it also blocked Barbie from realizing what life would be best for her. Barbie’s disruption of perfection proved crucial in driving her self-direction. I think it is crucial to embrace those times that we encounter comments that are constructive to our character or work. Passing criticism off as an insult not only disregards those who could actually help us, but it also disregards realizations that could prompt our personal development.
I left out the last part of the parody’s quote about insults. After calling for people to forget the insults, it notes, “If you succeed in doing this, please tell me how.” This joke helps to illustrate that it is near impossible to block out those negative comments that we receive. Of course, some comments that are mean for the sake of being mean should not be considered. However, as we move forward as the Class of 2024, it is crucial to not pass off every failure and criticism as the product of the deficiency in someone else’s character. I think LM students are stronger and more tenacious than sometimes given credit for. This desire to be successful in many outlets (academic, extracurricular, and social) highlights our commendable ethic to attempt to be the best versions of ourselves. In striving to be the best version of ourselves, it’s crucial that we respect ourselves by opening our minds to constructive criticism and the means by which it can help us improve as individuals.
