Date: 13 Nov 2011 07:58 am (UTC)
ext_45525: Gleeful Baby Riding A Bouncy Horse Toy (It's Captain Enthusiasm!)
The Valedictorian and Salutatorian in my class achieved their status because classes weren't weighted ( at the high school here, honors classes add points, as do some other classes considered above average in difficulty or amount of work), and they didn't take risks. Our senior year they took only 2 or 3 classes, so they could be sure to get all A's and keep that top spot. I had a full eight classes all four years plus some independent study. I graduated 13th out of a class of either 233 or 244 (one was my high school class, the other my college class, and I can never remember which was the larger of the two).

Needless to say, back in the mid 70's when women's lib was just beginning to take root, I was too frighteningly bright to get any attention from the boys. I am well acquainted with the tones that Regency bucks must have used when they talked about bluestockings.

Fortunately, my college self-selected for frighteningly bright women and my husband's did the same for men. We found each other there. Besides, by then I'd been the recipient of my father's good advice, and scaled back on the academic overdrive a bit. Basically, I got a life.

My mother went to college, met my dad as a freshman (he was a junior), married him, had a little me 11 months later, and then went back and got her degree from our alma mater when I was 4. I saw how hard it was for her to do that, so I refused to get married until I had that A.B. degree in hand. I'm 3 credits and a Masters Thesis short of an M.A. in Classical Art and Archaology.

My grandfather the college prof. was so disappointed that neither my mother, my father, or I ever got the PhD. My mom never finished her PhD dissertation because she had too much to do with taking care of her 4 kids, and my dad got an M.A. in Creative Writing, and that was all he needed for a career as a Creative Writing professor.
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