Ask a Teacher: Advice for Overachievers

Q: I'm the type of student who writes two page papers when asked to write a paragraph, corrects teachers, and bursts into tears at the sight of an A-. What do teachers think of students like me?

A: I can’t speak for all teachers, but what I’d think is, “Gee, you remind me of me.” Except for the bursting into tears.

I spent much of my school career as a fairly stereotypical teacher’s pet, but being on the other side of the classroom has given me a different perspective. To that end, I have some information and advice for the overachievers that will hopefully make life easier for everyone.

More work is not necessarily better work: I’m chucking pebbles out of a glass shack here, but sometimes less is more. As Shakespeare wrote, “brevity is the soul of wit.” For those of us with a boundless vocabulary and a tendency toward loquaciousness, writing more is rarely a problem—or a challenge. Editing is harder, but it will make you a much better writer. Be merciless with your writing; if given a page or word count, challenge yourself to say everything you want to say within those limits (and if not given limits, ask your teacher for some). Write those seven pages, but edit them down to two—and no tricks with the font or margins! The lesson in word economy will improve your writing, giving it a greater impact. It’s also good practice for college application essays and the papers you’ll likely be writing in your courses. If you play your cards right, it can even open up job opportunities. College newspapers and writing centers are always looking for people who understand sharp, punchy writing and ruthless editing, and that’s how I put myself through grad school.

Also, from this side of the classroom, more pages means more to read and grade, and that makes teachers grumpy.

Don’t raise your hand: Your teachers probably know that you know the answers to all the questions. They know that if anyone understands the material, if anyone can work the problem out on the board or define a vocabulary term, it’s you. You’re dependable. And if you lack a bit of self-awareness, then you might dependably be the one person in the room with their hand raised, waving it excitedly until the teacher calls on you, or just blurting out the answer to avoid that awkward silence that often follows a teacher’s question.

The problem is what I noted at the beginning: your teachers already know that you understand the material. The reason they’re asking the question is not a quiz-show competition, but an attempt to gauge the classroom for comprehension. When the overachiever always has a hand up, the other students can breathe a sigh of relief that they won’t be called on. In trying to answer every question, you become a crutch for the rest of the class, and that impedes both their learning and your teacher’s ability to assess actual comprehension problems.

So keep that hand down, at least for awhile. Don’t be the first to answer. Give the other students a chance to shine—or a chance to be put on the spot and learn a valuable lesson about the importance of doing the required reading. At the very least, it’ll help your teacher know who’s doing the work and understanding the material, and that’s usually the point of question-time anyway.

...And then raise your hand: I know, it sounds contradictory, but here’s the corollary to the last point: if you’re confused, then others are probably just as confused, if not moreso. But if no one speaks up about their confusion, your teacher might rush on ahead, thinking everyone’s on-board. If you’re not shy about answering questions, then you shouldn’t be shy about asking them. There’s also a chance that you’re better able to articulate precisely what you don’t understand than some of your classmates. Gifted students tend to do more metacognition—thinking about their own thinking—than their peers. A lot of that has to do with the complexities of adolescent brain development, but the bottom line is that it may put you in a better position to ask questions, because you’ll be able to make those questions specific. That will help your teacher target what’s confusing and try to re-teach it, rather than trying to review days’ worth of lessons in response to a student’s “I just don’t get any of it.” Nothing makes me feel more helpless than not knowing where to begin to help someone who’s confused. If you ask the question—or can help clarify a classmate’s question, then you’re going to streamline the process and help make it easier for everyone.

Be a resource: Some of your classmates are almost certainly not in your position. Some of your classmates probably struggle to fill a page with their thoughts on that chapter of The Great Gatsby, let alone two (and seven? Fuhgeddaboudit). Some of your classmates are elated when they get a C-, because they struggled for every one of those seventy-two percentage points. In many cases, these students need help, and it’s not always possible for a teacher to help everyone in an hour-long class period. Those students would probably benefit if you gave them a hand.

Let me explain what I’m not advocating here: I’m not advising you to do their work for them, or show them your answers, or just tell them what the answer is. That’s not helping, and will only hurt them in the long run. They’re not learning the material, just learning that they can walk all over you. I’m not advising you, in a group assignment, to do all the work and let your classmates ride your coattails. That just breeds resentment on your part and laziness on theirs. But if your peers have questions, you can tell them where and how to find the answers. If your peers are confused, you can try to explain the material in different terms or walk them through the steps you take. In a group setting, you can take a leadership role and assign people specific tasks. You can help organize after-school study sessions and encourage your peers to crack their books open occasionally on the weekends. There’s a good chance they’ll listen to you more than your stuffy old grown-up teachers.

Another bit of insight from this side of the classroom: nothing illuminates your own areas of understanding and confusion more than teaching a concept to someone else. Tutoring your classmates will help you understand the material better than just studying and reviewing notes on your own.

Know your limitations: You have them; everyone does. Do your best to conquer them, but recognize that some things won’t always come easy, even to you. No one can be an expert at everything, and we all have some blind spots. Accept that—don’t use it as an excuse, but accept it—and it’ll make the sting of those occasional A-minuses a little less painful. Maybe you need to work a little harder, or maybe botany just isn’t your subject. It’s okay to fail occasionally as long as you learn something from those failures.

I think the best piece of advice I could give would be another brief appeal to literature. You class brainiacs, you mathletes, science olympians and spelling bee champions, when faced with a situation that calls for your prodigious skill and intellect, ask yourself: What Would Hermione Granger Do? It’s not perfect—you might accidentally turn yourself into a cat, for instance—but taking some lessons from Hermione’s character arc would be pretty valuable for any awkward young overachievers looking to make their lives—and their friends and teachers’ lives—a little easier.

Are you an overachiever?
Mr. Foss is a high school science teacher in Illinois. If you start himtalkingabout comic books, there's a good chance he won't stop.

Got a question for an English, science, math, writing, special ed, sociology, or PE teacher, or a specific question for Mr. Foss? Send it to contribute@sparknotes.com!

Related post: The New Definition of Geek