By Jackie Sussman ’17

Hello. My name is Jackie Sussman and I was a grade-aholic.

It began in sixth grade with the advent of Home Access Center (HAC). While my friends played “Tiny Wings,” I discovered the thrill of entering my username and password into a virtual white box, and the adrenaline rush whenever I pushed “Login.” My heart pounded whenever I clicked that “Classes” icon and I felt genuine excitement when I checked my grades and saw the percentage number in small black Arial font. I felt as though I had summited Mount Everest if the grade was above a 90 percent, and felt stranded in the depths of hell if it ever fell below an 85.

The introduction of HAC had noble intentions.  After all, students and parents should be focused on and updated about their progress in school.  But the ability to access grades at any time also supported a mindset that bred grade-aholism, an obsessive focus on grades to the point where the purpose of school shifts from enriching the mind to chasing the A.

Like any addiction, the side-effects of grade-aholism are immediate and long-term.  

As I know from personal experience, HAC motivates students to strive for the minimum.  And so I, as did many others, developed an algorithm that forever revolutionized my time management.  Why try for the 100 when I could calculate the minimum grade I needed on certain tests to get the overall grade I wanted?  HAC  became not only a hub for visual addiction but for tedious calculation.  Such tedium amplified in high school, when I was introduced to GPA.

Yet the long-term repercussion of grade-aholism is the most disturbing.  If students are taught now to view the world with asinine perspectives that encourage short-cuts and striving for the minimum, that view will stick.  There is no one blueprint to success, and success and long-term happiness mean very different things for different people; grade-aholism dictates that there is only one way to achieving your goals.  And when I decided to sober myself from this toxic worldview my junior year, I realized just how confined that mindset was.

Once I told myself to, bluntly, chill out—and letting go a bit isn’t as easy as it seems—I realized all that I was missing.  Instead of spending a half-hour calculating what I needed on a test, I spent that half-hour actually engaging with the material presented to me.  Instead of focusing on understanding concepts for a grade, I focused on applying them.  It turns out that taking a step back can sometimes be the first to many steps in forward progress.

The world is full of opportunity, and there are many different ways to skin a cat.  I understand this may seem hypocritical or condescending; but if you are able to put less stress and obsession over grades, you will be doing yourself a favor.  I wish I did before junior year.  Because then you will be experiencing for the sake of experiencing and learning for the sake of learning.