I get a tear in my eye every time "American Idol's" Simon Cowell tells someone he or she is rubbish. I don't think the contestants grasp how valuable a gift he has given them. As my university career draws to a close, I've begun to realize how important it is for people to be told how much they suck.
We all walk around making mistakes without realizing how serious they are and how much they are keeping us from achieving our goals. The occasional harsh criticism from a professional is like being given the key to a door blocking our success.
In high school we get beaten up socially so often that teachers take great care in lifting us up. They tell us our writing is wonderful, that we're smart and that we can achieve anything. We come to college clueless about how much we suck.
If professors can beat down our egos and ambitions in the right ways, we have a chance of graduating knowing what our limits and possibilities are.
There is a right and a wrong way to beat somebody down. I love watching Simon because I think I can tell when he's having good days and bad days. On some days he even tells people they're fat and ugly -- which is about as helpful as getting spit in the face. He's also wrong to imply that weight or appearance can preclude popularity (take Mama Cass for example).
I've had my own experiences, as well.
During my first semester of graduate school I had a professor I didn't like (and I suspect didn't like me) ask me seriously if I had a reading disorder -- referring to a time earlier in the semester when I'd mispronounced Thucydides. I wanted to pee on his desk.
That same semester I had another professor tell me I was rubbish in front of the whole class because I'd turned in a terrible rough draft of the final paper. I had procrastinated writing the paper partly because he told me a due date later than what was on the syllabus. But he was right; the rough draft was rubbish and I shouldn't have procrastinated.
I came to see him during Winter Break to see what he'd thought of the final version. There were so many marks on the paper that there was just as much of his writing as my typing. We talked for 30 minutes and the conversation could be summarized as, "What the hell were you thinking?"
I had to clench my jaw tight to keep from crying. I think he noticed because he changed his tone and said, "Now, speaking with concern in a fatherly way, as I might to my own son, what the hell were you thinking?"
I didn't enjoy the experience. I had to walk around the block afterward to calm down so I didn't cry in front of my fiancée, who was waiting in the car. But that 30 minutes changed my college career. I probably still wouldn't meet his standards today, but I know I'm a much better writer now.
I love my professors and mentors who have given me encouragement, but I've learned the most from the professors who have told me I wasn't cutting it.
I don't want all my teachers to be jerks like Simon Cowell, but I'm so glad for the few -- and that they are few. Maybe I'm hallucinating, but sometimes when I watch Simon closely on a big screen, I think I see caring in his eyes.
Nothing makes us stronger than having to get up after being knocked down and never making the same mistakes again. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, the tree that grows amidst strong winds will be the one with the thickest roots.
