Perfection is not a prerequisite
Patrick Hobbins
junior
I hung up the phone dejected. I thought that perfection is what Notre Dame wanted. Having been denied admission to the University as an applicant out of high school, I decided to begin my undergraduate education elsewhere and try my chances for Notre Dame admission as the "perfect" transfer applicant for the following year. I enrolled at the University of San Diego, where I quickly set down with one goal in mind — achieve the perfection that seemed a prerequisite for admission to Notre Dame.
Having participated in all of the right clubs at the University of San Diego, scored only perfect grades in my coursework and flawlessly completed my transfer application, I sat confidently wondering when I would receive the call or letter informing me of my admission to Notre Dame. That telephone call finally came, but bearing a tone quite different from what I was expecting. Again — "Denied."
A few weeks later, after significant wheeling and dealing with the Admissions Office (their realization that there were remaining spaces for the sophomore transfer class) and a promise to stay at Notre Dame over the following summer to make up lost credits, I was somehow allowed to slip through the seemingly impenetrable cracks that lead into undergraduate admission. "I'm not sure how or why," I thought, "but finally someone has taken note of my perfection."
Fast-forward three semesters. I am only now realizing that it is not perfection that Notre Dame asks of us. I think that what this place really wants from us is simply to try our best in what we do well and respect the talents and ambitions of others. Too often, I look in the mirror and see a person scared silly about getting a C in a tough course, running late to a class with bed-head or journeying solo to a dining hall full of people. I see it in and around me every day, and it upsets me to think of what potential can go to waste.
Instead of walking around this campus putting on an image of infallibility and perfection that so many of us prize, let's try walking out the door with our heads held high about who we really are. Take the challenging course that might put a blemish on that flawless report card. Get off the couch and go for a jog. You might be slower than molasses in January, but it doesn't mean you can't get the same "runner's high" that experienced cross-country runners experience. Run for an office that interests you. Do not fear losing. Give the Notre Dame men's or women's boxing club a shot. You might not be thrilled about performing hundreds of push-ups and sit-ups, but you can learn more about yourself in that instant of being cracked in the head than in a lifetime of sitting mindlessly in a dorm room. Challenge yourself. Sing loudly at Acoustic Café; play proudly on the field; give of yourself to others.
Notre Dame and Saint Mary's draw undergraduates from a highly competitive collection of people. Our very presence here insists that we have overcome challenges and succeeded against other competitors. I ask you now, do not try to be perfect. Perfect is a joke. Perfect can be dangerous and unhealthy. I've seen perfect, and it really is not that cool — it's nobody, and it's lonely.
I'd rather see you and me. I want to see us welcoming the conflicts that make us grow, rather than tucking tail and running from the challenges that we face. I want to see us putting it on the line, taking the risks that put our perfection in question and being respectful, rather than fearful of the special talents of those around us.
There is a reason why you and I are here, and it is not because we are perfect. I hope that each of us can take a step back and realize what we are missing out on by striving toward what we think others expect of us. I apologize for instances where I have limited others or myself by failing to acknowledge the differences that make us special. Most importantly, I advise: Do not hide your talents out of fear of imperfection and be forced to ask the question down the road, "What if?" In closing, a piece of wisdom from Matthew 5:15 to help us shine:
"You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all …"
Patrick Hobbins
junior
Keenan Hall
Feb. 11, 2002
All Viewpoint Stories for Tuesday, February 12, 2002
