As the post below this one made clear, grad school isn’t always sunshine and lollipops. I’m afraid this is one of those times. As such, I’m playing cop-out blogger again, and leaving you all with another old favourite from my blog. I thought it may be something our brainy readers could sympathize with.

I’m afraid, Bloggie-Land, that I am about to toot my own horn a little….

I am smart.

This is one of the most consistent and true aspects of my identity. While some days I don’t feel especially pretty, I know I am not graceful or athletic, and sometimes my sense of humour falls flat, I know I can have faith in my intelligence. It would sting if someone were to call me ugly, but if (almost anyone- I have few limits!) called me stupid, I would have the confidence to laugh in their face.

I think this is in part the stuff of family myths. Ever since I apparently spoke and read at a very young age, I have been preened as the “smart” one. I have generally played into my role pretty well, from voraciously devouring novels at a young age (and proudly wearing my Snoopy “I love reading” shirt), to now, as a PhD student in a family that has done well while eschewing university degrees.

However, it is funny how, while intelligence is put forth as one of the most positive values in our society, it seems to be all tied up in a whack of other negative stereotypes. A few have come to mind for me while reflecting on growing up as a “smart girl”.

1. Smart girls aren’t pretty.

While, granted, I did go through a year of my life with the genuinely hideous one-side-of-my-hair-is-much-longer-than-the-other cut, and my eyebrows, when unplucked, may bear a striking resemblence to something of the catepillar variety, I can pull myself together pretty well. However, it appears that some believe makeup to be somehow incompatible with me with brains.

I think this one was probably the earliest to show up, and may have been out of a direct contrast made between my younger sister and I. Despite the fact that we are often mistaken for twins, and she was usually on the Honour Roll, my early penchance for books and hers for pink dresses was sufficient for us to be placed in out own little boxes for the bulk of our childhood and adolescence. I was the smart one, she was the pretty one, and this predetermined what conversations people would try to engage us in. It is probably an entire post onto itself the extent and consequences of this, and I often wonder if it played a role in my sister’s decision not to go to university, despite undoubtedly having the skills (and even some scholarship cash) to do so. It certainly didn’t do wonders for my self-esteem at times.

There is also the flip side of this. This summer, while away at the grad student institute, over dinner, a man asked me and some girl friends about our experiences of having been approached at conference not due to the quality of our poster or talk, but due to our appearance. I knew he meant it as some sort of an offhanded complement, but it burned like an insult. Underlying it was the notion that we would not be recognized for our accomplishments because we happened to be good-looking, or, even worse, that some people would assumed that’s where our recognition came from– despite the fact that acceptance at grad school, for conference presentations and to journals is not accompanied by a bikini shot.

2. Smart girls don’t have friends and don’t have fun.

This was another spin-off of the “contrasted sister” effect, whereby despite the fact that I was reasonably popular and socially involved while in high school, it was assumed that my sister was the real social one, and, behind it all, I had loner-ish tendencies.

What really stuck out for me was how people couldn’t conceive my social persona and my school persona as equally a part of me. People who knew me socially couldn’t imagine me hitting the books, while people who knew me through classes where shocked to see me cut loose at a party. Even now, people have told me that they are a little in awe of my ability to balance these two seemingly opposing abilities.

3. Smart girls don’t have to work hard.

This represents a huge pet peeve of mine. Yes, I’m smart, and tend to grasp things reasonably well the first time ’round. But to blame where I am today on some sort of luck of the genetic draw is pretty insulting. For instance, I didn’t merely spew out my Masters thesis over coffee one morning. I worked literally from when I woke up in the morning (starting running stats over coffee in my PJs) until I went to bed at around 3 in the morning, sometimes not leaving my apartment for days at a time during the final stretch.

Ambition and intelligence are not the same thing.

4. Boys don’t like smart girls.

This one is my most recent struggle. I believed for a while that, sure, boys may like smart girls on paper– no one overtly claims to want a stupid partner– but they often don’t like what a smart girlfriend entails, including wanting to do “smart” things, possibly having more knowledge on a particular topic, or, heaven forbid, having educated opinions on issues. I’d actually been told by the Ex that my intelligence was a negative when discussing an issue with him– as though it was somehow playing dirty by bringing up knowledge he didn’t have. Especially in front of others.

Unfortunately, I’m not too good at playing dumb.

And I started wondering if this was actually to my disadvantage.

Thankfully, this stereotype was disconfirmed by what remains one of the best complements I’ve ever received by my guy, while we were still just friends, when he said that I was sexy when I talked confidently about the topics I knew well.

(Hence why we are a match in geek heaven.)

This entry was posted on Monday, November 10th, 2008 at 2:37 am and is filed under Princess sayz, Uncategorized, family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.