Great Expectations

Something they tell all of us aspiring educators is that setting expectations is a necessary part of teaching. It’s a necessary part of life actually.

People say that it is safer to set the bar low for oneself so that they can meet everyone’s expectations.

Lay low, and you can’t possibly let people down.

When we live like this, we force ourselves in to the mindset that maybe we can’t do everything we want to do. Even worse, we can look at others and assume the worst. Each encounter, each teaching moment, each relationship, each friendship, each job…all of these are expected to fail.

Self fulfilling prophecy.

So what happens when someone sets the standards a bit higher?

Expectations from Others

I have alluded to the great expectations my advisor put on me several times, so allow me to share what brought all of this on.

Early on in my graduate career, I told my PI that I was willing to do anything for the lab, so long as I was taught the techniques. This led to me being introduced to nearly every experiment in the lab, being asked to read every paper on the proteins related to our “beloved” STARD9, and mentoring 11 out of the 12 undergrads by the middle of January.

And just when I thought it would let up

I was given even higher standards to meet.

In the midst of this, I failed my advisor countless times. I lost the lab more money than I am proud to admit, let my social life affect my science, and even was rejected for a grant that supposedly was “in the bag.” My mentee had to relearn techniques because I taught just a little bit incorrectly, and I oftentimes had to double back on what should have been easy experiments for us.

I lost a grant. He gave me a new one to apply for.

I screwed up my experiments. He asked me to try another one on top of my current three.

Last week I had to turn in my American Heart Association Fellowship proposal. In the midst of everything, I let this slip away. So when I finally got up the courage to send my advisor the rough draft, it was almost too late for me to fix everything.

Let’s just say that I was nowhere near ready to turn everything in.

And I had not communicated with my advisor about his requirements either.

My advisor was pissed, and rightfully so! I was mortified. After barely scratching the past few weeks with enough lab work to show that I wasn’t a complete waste of resources, I had really let my advisor down, and he let me know it.

People told me to just let up, to be ok not meeting my advisor’s expectations.

But I couldn’t do that.

You see, all Great Expectations are based on some truth. 

My advisor knew that I loved to write, and he knew that I loved to develop experiments and read papers to support my claims. We talk for hours about what it is like to apply for grants, write papers, and run a lab. It was everything that he already knew that I could do, even though I did not expect myself to succeed at it.

So I sat in that lab, set up a PCR reaction for one of the experiments that I let sit on the backburner in the wake of this stressful time, and I wrote everything I could get out of my mind.

Not only did I develop a project that I was even more proud of, but I also made my experiment that had been failing for three weeks to finally work.

When we hold people to high standards, when we believe in others, they have an opportunity to rise to the challenge. Sometimes it is painful, and sometimes we fail, but there is always a chance for us to succeed. If we do nothing but expect the worst of others, then there is less of a possibility of victory.

That is, unless we are willing to believe in ourselves.

Expectations from Ourselves

I recently had an experience to rise above the expectations of others. Not to give too much away, but there were some people who had some pretty misconceptions of who I was because of the way I had been acting. My lab work and my own daily struggles took over my mind, and I oftentimes had careless encounters with my peers, particularly those I did not share a close friendship with.

My carelessness had hurt some people’s feelings.

And I had let myself appear to be less welcoming and understanding.

All my life, I have prided myself in being a community builder, in loving all of those around me. I don’t really like hating on people, and I don’t hold grudges. Even though I can harbor pain longer than I ought to, I oftentimes blame myself for the trouble I cause in my life. It may be someone else’s fault, but I’ll blame myself for the sake of the community.

I never meant to hurt their feelings.

I just prioritized my experiments and my labmates more than I did shooting the breeze.

I was told that I should stop being so nice. I was told that I needed to be mean every once in a while. Someone even told me that I had to be faking my forgiveness. In fact, one of my first memories with the first year cohort was all of the guys trying to get me to say something mean at my friend Pat’s birthday party.

I still haven’t uttered a harsh word against them.

At least, not intentionally.

So in this moment, I was given two options. I could meet the standards of everyone else and just keep this persona of a clique-y girl with a chip on her shoulder, or I could be the woman that my parents raised me to be. I could be closed off and angry, or I could be kind and collaborative. Both choices would ultimately lead to essentially the same end, or so everyone told me.

Either I would maintain the status quo without heartache, or I would be hurt by admitting my fault.

It would have been easier had I just stayed behind.

But then I remembered the word of Christ, “When you are asked to go a mile, go two.”

My parents raised me to love my neighbor, to see Christ in them, to go the extra mile for the sake of sharing God’s love with the world around me. Even if I never was given anything in return, it would be well worth it to admit my fault.

So I did.

And I saw a smile that I had not seen in quite some time.

And I saw people communicate again in a way that I thought I would never see again.

Because I held myself to the standards that I had instilled in me through my family and my faith, I was able to be the kind-hearted woman that I have aspired to be all my life. It was challenging, and I wish I had not made the mistakes that led to that moment, but I am forever grateful for the standards I gave myself in order to live a life I am proud of.

Most importantly, I am thankful for the workings of Christ that came from that moment.

Another note on “going an extra mile”

Apparently at the time of Christ, the Romans could tell the jews to drop everything and carry their things and march for a mile. That was just the standard. So when Jesus told them to “go two” miles, He was not only asking them to go the extra mile as a sign of hard work. He was calling them to give even more to those that were in need, to forgive the Romans even more.

You know who were the first to call Jesus the Christ? To really believe in Him?

The Roman Centurions.

People must have been taking Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount seriously and taking that extra mile for the Romans. And as they went beyond the begrudging and hateful expectations of the soldiers, the Romans had a chance to encounter true love and service.

When we go beyond the expectations of others for the sake of love, for the sake of something greater than ourselves, then we have an opportunity to make a change in the world.

My life is better for the standards set for me by my superiors and myself

And it is getting better with every extra mile.