Believe it or not, I wasn’t always good at math. In fact, I was marginal, at best, in high school algebra (8th grade). I started to develop a little more as the years went by. But it wasn’t until I struggled with higher level maths like Calculus that the junior high stuff like Algebra actually began to click.

At age 17, I entered college as an Engineering major. I struggled through Calculus and Physics before “scaling back” my major to Applied Mathematics. (At one point, I almost changed my major to Education… a view to the future?)

In the end, I earned a Business degree. I majored in Finance with a minor in Applied Statistics. What the heck? I already had lots of math courses under my belt.

Freshman year

My first year, I thought I would waltz through college the way I did high school — engineering major and all. I reasoned I was smarter than the average bear and had a good memory. High school grades had come somewhat easily for me. Although I didn’t really apply myself, I did manage to graduate 23rd in a class of 116 students. How hard could college be? It’s just high school with a bigger cafeteria, right?

Surprise! It’s not! (at least, it wasn’t in the mid-80s)

I earned (probably was given, I was an athlete) a 1.53 GPA that first semester. As a result, I was placed on academic probation! I had until the end of the school year to get my cumulative GPA above 2.0, or it was curtains for me!

Second semester, I improved, but I came down with a world-class case of mono. I missed three weeks of classes. (I was actually attending them this semester!) But I still managed to earn a 2.62, which brought my cumulative GPA above 2.00 — barely — to a whopping 2.04! As it turned out, college was not like high school with a bigger cafeteria.

Sophomore year

I met a girl. I quit the Varsity swim team (mainly due to chronic shoulder pain), and I was back to cutting classes and partying. Déjà vu all over again. Long story short? I was reliving my first semester freshman year. My grades sucked again, 2.02 for the semester.

I figured if I wanted to have a life with this person I had been dating, I’d have to make something of myself and get better grades to to so. Plus my parents actually grounded me. Yep! Their roof, their rules. I was grounded!

Then… second semester sophomore year, I earned a 3.77. And I made Dean’s List that semester and every semester after that.

What changed?

I wasn’t sure exactly what happened at first, but I’m sure it had to do with experiencing massive trauma. I remember a talk I had with my Aunt Danice. She was an awesome high school English teacher, and she even gave me a book on college writing.

I knew I was capable of more. I was aware of what I had done to myself, probably even embarrassed. I knew where I wanted to be. I knew what I had to do; I just had to do what I knew. Isn’t that so often the case? We know what to do, but don’t do what we know.

About that time, I also read the Tony Robbins book Unlimited Power, a classic now. Tony outlines a 4-step process. The critical step, Step 3 — a step often omitted in public schools these days — was asking myself where I would end up if I did not change. Way back when I was in high school, teachers were allowed to ask if you wanted to pump gas the rest of your life. Of course, this is now a forbidden tactic. But fear is still the champion of all motivators, but 21st teachers can’t use it. We live in the world of participation trophies and 10th place ribbons.

But you are allowed to use it on yourself!

What are the four steps (questions)?

1. Where was I? In a deep hole I dug for myself. It was all my fault. I was definitely good enough to be doing better.
2. Where did I want to be? I wanted to learn and earn better grades so I would have a better skill stack to pursue a fulfilling career.
3. Where would I be if I did not make the necessary changes? In some crappy job, not a career with good pay and decent benefits… My parents (who were also “allowed” to use this step) asked if I wanted to end up pumping gas, bagging groceries, or flipping burgers. Tony Robbins says that people will work harder to avoid pain than to gain pleasure.
4. What did I do? Since I didn’t want to live in a van down by the river, I decided to change. Was I going to be a doer or a dabbler? Wants and wishes don’t cut it. Decisions do. In fact, decision is from the Latin decidere which means to cut off… cut off everything but what’s most important!

Takeaway

I share this story with students not to impress them, but rather to impress upon them that they can achieve any goal they decide to achieve; they just need a system. If I was falling short of my goals, it was my fault and I would either have to decide to change, or it would be the same as wanting to be doing bad (I ought to write a book called You’re Failing Because You Want to Be). As long as you’re good enough (i.e., you meet threshold talent), you can do almost anything.

While I didn’t change my destination overnight, I did change my direction with that one decision. Decision is the father of change. As students, you are involved in a marathon, not a sprint. So lose the microwave mindset, and start thinking crockpot. And make that change!

I became a Dean’s List student only after deciding to change my behavior. No one did it for me.

Is this your year?