Hello My Name Is…Straight A Student

I was always a good student, earning a healthy mix of As and Bs throughout most of my school years. But, my senior year of high school, I kicked my performance up a notch.

At the beginning of the year, all seniors were informed that we would be excused from the year-end final exam in any class for which we received straight As throughout the year.

To further sweeten the deal, if you didn’t have a final, you didn’t have to come into school. I quickly realized that straight As would get my summer vacation
started 10 days early.

No “senioritis” for me. I put my mind to it, and got a perfect 4.0 my senior year.

When I got to college, one might expect a bit of slacking off. Nope – I had grown fond of how those straight As made me feel. So, I continued to pursue knowledge the “Almighty A.” (We won’t discuss the heartbreak and rage associated with the single B that stains my college transcript.)

Upon graduation, I may have needed to forsake the pursuit of perfect grades, but in public accounting there was no shortage of formal performance feedback.

If I worked on a project for at least 20 hours, my performance was evaluated in an assignment report. My clients completed surveys on the quality of my service.  I did an annual self-assessment. All of the metrics were combined by management into a single “grade” for the year.

(Now, I know my friends in Human Resources would be appalled with my characterization of this as a grade. So, I feel compelled to clarify that as a feedback-junkie, I experienced this as a grading process, regardless of anyone’s intentions.)

There were certainly downsides to my obsession with perfect grades (check out this great post Jon Morrow for some examples). But, for over 15 years, I was largely able to get “my fix” and never faced the problems associated with my addiction to performance feedback.

Then, I became a mom and left my job. My new “boss” didn’t give grades. I could tell I was meeting her needs, but annoyingly, babies don’t say, “Great job! You’re an A+ mom!”

So, I turned to my husband, poor guy. I can’t tell you how many times I begged him to praise my mothering skills. Unfortunately for all of us, self-solicited praise doesn’t do much to satisfy a feedback addict.

When my daughter was about six months old, I finally hit rock bottom on a walk with my mom. With tears dripping off my chin I confessed, “One of the hardest parts of mothering is that nobody says great job at the end of the day. There are no evaluations, no raises or bonuses. How am I supposed to measure my performance?”

She grabbed my hand and first validated my feelings. “It is hard. For so long, you’ve looked to those metrics to define yourself.”

Then she continued, “Honey, now it’s time to find a way to let you Father define you.”

I considered her words for a long time. One night, I was ready to let go. I wrote four sentences in my journal. Then, I wrote a line through the first two in a gesture of symbolism.

“I am a straight A student. I am a top performer. I am an imperfect child of the Living God. I’ve been rescued by His love and am now an instrument of that Love.”

Sometimes, the voice I’m trying to drown out at night is that of the straight A, top performer. When I hear her this week, I’ll ask my Father to gently take her hand and envelop her in His love.

P.S. This post is part of a series on my own identity crisis. Check here for other “Hello My Name Is” posts.

Any fellow feedback addicts out there? Do you allow arbitrary metrics like grades or performance evaluations define you? I’d love to hear your story!