My mother was a prodigy, graduating from high school at 15, having begun college classes while still in high school. She got her bachelor’s degree in teaching at age 19 and began teaching high school—kids barely younger than herself!
I, on the other hand had Asperger Syndrome, dyslexia and nerve deafness so I couldn’t do well in school to save my life. My mother was ashamed and embarrassed of me. She once told me that I had the lowest IQ in the family (based on testing administered in the ’60s).
My brothers were expected to do great things in life, whereas I was told daily that I was useless, I couldn’t do anything right and that I would never amount to anything. My mom’s favorite phrase was, “You’re not worth the powder it would take to blow you up.”
Just as she had predicted, I had never made much of myself as society judges it. However, her golden sons had not gone to college and never really shone as brightly as she expected either.
When my mother died, I was in my 50s. I spiraled into a deep depression, partially fueled by the fact that I had never proved my worth to her. I lost my job and became homeless. My best friend at the time encouraged me to go to college to improve my earning potential but I laughed in her face. With my Asperger’s and learning disabilities, I’d surely fail. She told me I didn’t have to do well, I just had to pass. She reminded me that they would give me financial aid. Since I was unable to hold a job at the time, I did as she advised—just for the money.
Once in school, I became obsessed with maintaining passing grades so I wouldn’t lose my financial aid. I arrived in the library as soon as it opened and stayed til it closed FIVE days a week, studying. My reasoning was that if I kept my grades as high as possible, when I inevitably failed my exams or papers, I would have a margin of error so I would still pass.
That first semester, I passed—with a 4.0 GPA! Then I began to be absolutely driven to maintain it—to prove to my mother and myself that I was not stupid. It took me FOUR years to graduate with my Associate’s degree because I took the minimum number of credits per semester so as not to become overwhelmed, plus I took one semester off to care for my brother and nephews after he had a stroke.
When I walked at my graduation, I was one of only SEVEN students in my graduating class of 2500 to have maintained a perfect 4.0. The school had sent me a letter asking me to speak at commencement but because I was homeless, I never received it until it was too late to respond. My only regret was that my mother would never know, never be proud of me.
Because of my performance I received offers of scholarships from many schools including Cornell. I didn’t consider it possible to go to a four-year college even with a scholarship because I was still homeless and had zero money. But my friends and family encouraged me, saying that I deserved to get my bachelor’s. I told them that I would start a GoFundMe and if I got enough money to finance my trip to Oregon to go to Pacific University, I’d go.
My loved ones came through and I raised $1500. So I packed up and drove a rickety, leaky, run-down motor home from Southern California to Portland, Oregon, and arrived, still homeless, to begin my journey to my bachelor’s degree.
Three and a half years later at age 59, I walked at my commencement as a Magna Cum Laude student. Again, I wished my mother could have been there.
Neither of my brothers ever went to college. They did OK without it though. However, they are both blown away that their “dumb little sister” did so well in college. My “embarrassingly low” IQ, by the way, is 145. My mother and brothers scored higher but there are plenty of valedictorians with scores much closer to average!
Honestly, IQ points are not an issue for someone who is dedicated and takes advantage of every possible help available. I spent endless hours in the math tutoring lab; I asked for a special testing environment because of my hearing and dyslexia; I sat at the front of every class, every day so I could read the instructor’s lips. I was not shy about asking questions and challenging every answer marked wrong that was actually right.
Anyway, I proved to my mother and myself that I am not stupid or useless. And I am worth AT LEAST the powder it would take to blow me up!
-Marcia Wilcox
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