The Good Student Syndrome

by Huina Zheng

Ping reviewed the composition of her fourth-grade student, Yan. The words on the page carried the weight of a young girl’s self-doubt: “I got a B on my math test. I don’t deserve to be the class monitor.”

Ping felt Yan’s pain radiating from the page. She understood it all too well. Ping’s parents, a teacher and a doctor, were quick to point out her shortcomings but sparing with their praise and encouragement.

During her school years, Ping relentlessly pursued perfection. She excelled in competitions, won awards in speech contests, and led her peers in dance performances. Elementary school marked her most glorious period, where she basked in the adoration of teachers and peers, nurturing her self-confidence.

However, the transition to junior high school shattered her confidence, especially in mathematics, a subject where she often merely scraped by. A particular memory still stung: when she sought help with a geometry problem from her teacher during recess, she encountered nothing but impatience. “Only smart people learn math well. Even if you manage to enter high school, you won’t pass math. A vocational school is your destiny,” her teacher had declared. This incident marked a revelation for Ping, exposing the stark divide between students with good grades and those with poorer ones.

Determined to reclaim her status as a top student, Ping intensified her efforts, sacrificing hours of sleep. Slowly, her hard work paid off.

College life brought a new phase. Ping measured her self-worth by constantly outperforming the tasks assigned by her professors.

Upon completing her university education, she embarked on a journey as a primary school teacher. Ping aspired to be a fair and compassionate educator. She aimed to treat her students as equals, irrespective of their grades.

As a Chinese teacher, Ping consciously eased the homework load. She aimed to ignite her students’ love for the subject, refraining from drowning them in repetitive exercises. Even if students didn’t naturally gravitate towards Chinese, she encouraged their efforts and dedicated fifteen minutes of each class to storytelling, rather than monotonous character copying.

However, this teaching approach didn’t produce instant boosts in students’ language scores. In contrast, other classes prioritized repetitive drills of fundamental knowledge, leading to higher test scores.

During her inaugural year as a teacher, parents’ complaints about the reduced homework load and disregard for their children’s grades accumulated. The principal even questioned her competence.

Amidst the mounting doubts about her teaching methods, Ping pondered whether she was indeed on the right path. Was she, in fact, an effective educator?

One day, as Ping stumbled upon the term “good student syndrome” while perusing WeChat articles, she found her thoughts circling the concept like a moth drawn to a flame.

It was as if a veil had been lifted, and she saw how this syndrome had stifled creativity, individuality, and personal growth, not just for herself but also for her friends, colleagues, and the young minds she was entrusted to mold. She resolved to liberate her students from the stifling bonds of this syndrome and guide them toward a more holistic and authentic approach to education.

Nevertheless, she was acutely aware that the parents of her students remained fixated on academic achievements. When their class’s average score failed to secure the top position in the grade, some of her colleagues resorted to any means to enhance their students’ academic performance.

But a sense of clarity emerged, as she realized she had inadvertently plunged back into the abyss of the “good student syndrome.” To break free from it, she needed to embrace her own unique teaching philosophy.

When she learned that a student, Dong, had been scolded by his math teacher for receiving a C in math, with the teacher branding him as an underachiever, she said to the class, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you what you can or cannot achieve. You are capable of greatness, and the only limits are the ones you set for yourself.”

She began emphasizing to her students, “You don’t have to be perfect; everyone has their own unique strengths and limitations.”

The next morning during the reading session, Ping beckoned Yan to join her in a quiet corridor just beyond the classroom’s threshold.

Listening to Yan, Ping discovered that not only had the young girl received a B, but her peers had also ridiculed her for it, while her parents had chastised her for what they deemed a shameful grade.

“Yan, what, in your opinion, defines a competent monitor?”

Yan, her face reflecting the uncertainty that had troubled her, responded hesitantly, “They should have excellent grades, a great personality, a strong character, and remarkable abilities.”

Ping’s eyes softened, and she offered a compassionate smile before gently challenging Yan’s belief. “But, Yan, if that’s the case, hardly anyone in our class, or in this world, is truly competent to be a class monitor, because perfection eludes us all.”

Anxiety painted across Yan’s expression, causing her to nibble on her lower lip. She remained silent.

With a reassuring pat on Yan’s shoulder, Ping spoke: “You have a beautiful quality, Yan. You genuinely care about others. You are warm, kind, and incredibly responsible. These qualities make you an excellent monitor. Remember: grades don’t define you or any student, for that matter. The immense pressure we often place upon ourselves and the high expectations we carry can be stifling.”

Yan’s eyes met Ping’s as she nodded.

Ping, while encouraged by Yan’s response, still harbored uncertainty about whether her message had truly resonated. She concluded their conversation: “Every time you doubt yourself, Yan, remember that you are more than good enough, and don’t let others’ opinions shape your self-worth.”

As the words left her lips, Ping silently reaffirmed her commitment to freeing herself from the grip of the “good student syndrome.” She was determined to serve as a role model for her students, demonstrating the path to breaking these self-imposed constraints.