This summer, I’ve finally graduated from university and freed from the chains of the education system. To many of us, graduation day is often hailed as one of the greatest milestones in a student’s life. And every single one of us have his or her own story to tell, depending on the faculties and institutions we graduated from. Despite graduating with top accolades from a prestigious university, it didn’t make me feel great.
Some months later, I had just the opposite experience. I was sent to attend a one week program on mass spectroscopy and machine learning, a vast tangent off from what I’ve learnt back in university. It was kind of a geeks’ gathering, where industry experts and faculty members gather annually for 5 days packed with talks, refresher courses, conversations and hands-on sessions that you don’t usually get to experience often.
Each faculty member and representative of their companies had to give a talk and share about their research work. And, of course, we put in our utmost to solve the training problems given to us - and then talked and drank into the late evening. We’re people, after all.
Throughout the entire program, I felt like I was the stupidest person in the room: the least qualified, least number of papers published and with the least experience in the field. I didn’t have prizes and honours, nor did I have any people surrounding me, begging to hear more about my work the way they did to some of my colleagues.
It was great.
Back when I was still an undergraduate and feeling like the best person in the class, module after module, had been a little weird and did nothing to motivate me to keep studying harder. But feeling like the stupidest person in the room, now that was invigorating.
My experiences during my undergraduate studies and at the mass spectroscopy program - reminded me of something quite clear: winning in a small field is far less exciting than feeling like an idiot among a group of academic celebrities.
For instance, starting your freshman year in university, entering a graduate programme and stepping into the workforce are all milestones in life when the expertise curve can feel daunting. That’s when you start to doubt yourself, in your abilities and second-guess. But when you are on the upslope of education, the journey is breathing-taking and varied.
At 27, I found out that one of the most appealing pleasures is venturing into the unknown. Being in the academic world affords me with the opportunity to trudge into new intellectual paths, where quagmires and potholes peppered my way ahead. Sometimes, we may have to wander around before getting back our bearings. The thrill of being lost, of not knowing where’s the heading, is something that has taken me years to appreciate.
Sure, when I was in secondary school, I didn’t think I will ever excel in anything. Yet I feigned a facade of confidence and tried to not show any confusion whenever my peers talked about the slew of scientific principles or social studies’ perspectives that I didn’t understand. I harboured the fear of being judged, of being labelled as stupid.
When I started my undergraduate studies, I began to let go of the idea that I have to be the smartest kid in class - and that it is perfectly alright to say, “I don’t know either.” I shredded my masks and no longer tried to convince others about my trumped up intellect. That was when I started to accept my inadequacies and appreciate the people around, who are much smarter than me.
There’s much to benefit from that; from being the stupidest person in the room. When you are the smartest and most experienced person in any team or organization, that’s when your learning stops. You can only be a mentor, and never the student. In the recent program I attended, I found it exhilarating to be blown away by someone else’s brilliance. It inspires me to put in more effort, to be better than who I was yesterday; though now without the accompanying self criticisms.
I know for certain that a few years ago, I would not have looked forward to the feeling of being the stupidest person in the room.
However when given a choice today, I would gladly surround myself with people a whole lot smarter than me. Why? Not only will I learn at a much faster rate, I’ll also be inspired by the knowledge gap between us and strive harder for myself.
But I’ll just need to remember to leave my delicate ego behind.
