Fossils of academia

I was at my parents' house yesterday, going through my old closet. I came across the giant three-ring binder from high school that had a bunch of my old papers and projects inside. I vaguely remember a teacher handing out these folders to the whole class sometime during ninth grade and telling us to use them to file our work throughout high school. At the time, I didn't really see the point of it (why save my graded homework after the class was over?), but evidently I followed the directions often enough to accumulate a fairly hefty stack of work. Now, of course, I'm glad I did.

My favorites to re-read were probably the book reports from AP English senior year. I guess I was a decent writer for a high-schooler (though of course I laughed at my younger, inexperienced self a few times too), and I read some excellent books that year. At one point I was reading Alan Paton's Ah, But Your Land Is Beautiful, and now that I've spent quite a bit of time studying South African culture and history, I should really go back and read it again. (I don't really remember it, but the themes of my paper were intriguing.)

Among the files of class writings, I found a personality assessment I had apparently taken for a class. Based on its placement in the binder, it looks to be from sophomore year, though I don't know what it was used for. Naturally, being myself, I was curious enough to take it again and see how my results had changed in seven years.

A few observations:

1. One of the first things I noticed was that only two areas of intelligence had lowered, while five indicated that my aptitude had increased. Does this mean that I've actually become stronger in all these areas (a product of life experiences, higher education, seeing the world, etc.)? Or is this an instance of increased confidence leading to higher self-evaluation? Either one seems plausible.
2. I've always had an aptitude for music, but after spending four years earning my bachelor's degree in violin performance, I'm gratified to see the increase. (At least, as much as I can be gratified by an entirely subjective, not-very-extensive personality test that I spent about eight minutes taking.)
3. And speaking of increases, let's talk about that kinesthetic situation. Anyone who knew me well in high school and still knows me well now probably wouldn't be surprised, but it does look a little extreme. It's important to note that I went through a phase (if 6+ years can be called a phase) in which I hated essentially all forms of exercise. I did not like sweating. I did not like the feeling of exertion. And I especially detested all sports (except horseback riding, which I loved).                                                                                                                       Things have changed. I became a camp counselor, where being active (and sweating) was a huge part of the lifestyle...and I loved it. Over the course of the next few years, I became who I am now -- an avid bike commuter, a lover of hiking and being outdoors, a gardener, a frequent exerciser, and pretty much willing to try any kind of physical activity as long as it doesn't require much hand-eye coordination. (I still don't love sports though.)
4. I was and still am extremely introspective. (Probably the reason I love personality quizzes.) I have a passion for the infinite complexity of all human beings, and the deep well to be tapped within every single person on earth. I love figuring out what makes people do what they do. And it's natural for this process of exploring and understanding people to start and end with myself.

I'm happy with the ways I've changed. And I wonder what kind of person I'll become in another seven years.