MUSINGS FROM THE DEAN
I had a rural background, attending school in a small town in northern Indiana. When I went to college, I realized that I was entering the "big time." I did not "feel" smart, and I knew that my classmates were coming from city high schools that had many more resources than my little school. Besides, I was from a family that had not sent anyone to college until my older brother went a few years earlier. How could I compete successfully?
Even though I was getting good grades, I still did not "feel" smart, so I assumed that I was slipping past--remaining under the radar without revealing the truth that I was a mediocre student, undeserving of the grades the professors mistakenly gave me. Somehow I was able to fool them for four years and graduate with honors.
However, I was sure that my dirty little secret would be discovered in seminary at Southern Methodist University. This was a major research university, and the professors there would not be taken in by my overinflated record. I knew that I would be exposed at any moment, revealed as the impostor that I was. Miraculously, I managed to remain undetected for another four years, and I tricked Vanderbilt University into admitting me to its Ph.D. program in the Graduate School of Religion.
I distinctly remember being in a seminar class during my first week there, listening to the discussion and thinking, "Oh, crap! I'm really out of my league here! The professor will expose me in class and ask me to leave since I obviously don't belong." I threw in a few comments, trying my best to sound intelligent, but I clearly did not measure up to the standards of my classmates who were so erudite.
Even though I was getting good grades, I still did not "feel" smart, so I assumed that I was slipping past--remaining under the radar without revealing the truth that I was a mediocre student, undeserving of the grades the professors mistakenly gave me. Somehow I was able to fool them for four years and graduate with honors.
However, I was sure that my dirty little secret would be discovered in seminary at Southern Methodist University. This was a major research university, and the professors there would not be taken in by my overinflated record. I knew that I would be exposed at any moment, revealed as the impostor that I was. Miraculously, I managed to remain undetected for another four years, and I tricked Vanderbilt University into admitting me to its Ph.D. program in the Graduate School of Religion.
I distinctly remember being in a seminar class during my first week there, listening to the discussion and thinking, "Oh, crap! I'm really out of my league here! The professor will expose me in class and ask me to leave since I obviously don't belong." I threw in a few comments, trying my best to sound intelligent, but I clearly did not measure up to the standards of my classmates who were so erudite.
I also remember the day two years later, having lunch with some of those same classmates, when one reminisced about our beginnings. He remarked about being in that seminar class and thinking to himself, "Oh, crap! I'm really out of my league here! The professor will expose me in class and ask me to leave since I obviously don't belong." Then it dawned on us: we were all pretty smart folks who felt inadequate--like impostors.
Later still I learned the label for that feeling, "Impostor's Syndrome," which, it turns out, is common among a significant number of students. It is particularly common among first-generation college students, but it can strike anyone. You earned your way into an academically rigorous college, but you don't "feel" smart, and you were trained to be humble, so you believe that you don't belong here with all these other students, who truly are smart.
Of course, being smart is not something you feel; it is something you do. Being smart means working hard, recognizing when you need assistance, and committing yourself to achieving your highest potential. Therefore, there are no impostors here at Maryville College, only those that have not yet unlocked their potential.
Later still I learned the label for that feeling, "Impostor's Syndrome," which, it turns out, is common among a significant number of students. It is particularly common among first-generation college students, but it can strike anyone. You earned your way into an academically rigorous college, but you don't "feel" smart, and you were trained to be humble, so you believe that you don't belong here with all these other students, who truly are smart.
Of course, being smart is not something you feel; it is something you do. Being smart means working hard, recognizing when you need assistance, and committing yourself to achieving your highest potential. Therefore, there are no impostors here at Maryville College, only those that have not yet unlocked their potential.
Jeff Fager
Vice President and Dean of the College
Vice President and Dean of the College