Dr. Bean. . .

      I believe we all have a Dr. Bean in our lives. Someone who shakes you up and makes you doubt yourself. I met mine my freshman year at Mercer University. He was my calculus professor and he somewhat resembled a mole. His face was large and circular and he had tiny eyes that blinked a lot that where magnified behind large thick glasses. Bean was the perfect name for him because that's what his body resembled... a giant non-defined bean.

      After the first 10 minutes of writing on the board a sweat stain started to form on his back. When he was done with our hour long class his entire shirt was saturated. I had never seen anyone sweat so much without doing anything really athletic. He addressed the sweating issue right before class was over and said that he had to keep spare shirts in his office because he could not make it through a class without being soaking wet. After three weeks we had our first exam. I did rather poorly according to my usually standard. I was unable to finish in the allotted time. I asked the professor if I could speak with him after class. We scheduled a meeting time in his office. He wanted me to complete the missing test questions timed and on my on. I did exactly as he suggested. I viewed professors as demi-gods, whom were the gate keepers of enlightenment, at this time in my life. 

      I gave him the paper at the beginning of our meeting.  I was nervous as he looked over it and told me that everything was correct. Then he started making inquires as to what school I went to previously and my family. He also wanted to know what my major was and what I intended to do with my life. The following words out of his mouth completely shocked me.

"Well, Ashley... you are a beautiful girl.... and you come from a good family.... my suggestion would be to drop this course and focus on an easier career path. I wish I had the opportunities that you do but I don't think you are smart enough to be a serious scholar and pass this course."

       I sat there demoralized. I should have automatically come to the conclusion that he was bat shit crazy. I did not.... I let his words sink in and make me question everything about myself. I thanked him for his time and left. It's not like I've dealt with cheerleaders all my life in fact quite the opposite. I wish I had done what I had always previously done and set out to prove the person wrong. It did not matter what anyone else told me if I thought his words of my inadequacy were true. It took me longer than I would have liked before I came to the conclusion that the only person who really knows what I am capable of is myself. 

“There is so much about my fate that I cannot control, but other things do fall under the jurisdiction. I can decide how I spend my time, whom I interact with, whom I share my body and life and money and energy with. I can select what I can read and eat and study. I can choose how I'm going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life-whether I will see them as curses or opportunities. I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts.” 
― Elizabeth Gilbert

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
Eleanor Roosevelt