In part one of this column, we followed the educational trajectories of three high school students: Pedro, who got low math grades in high school but surprised everyone, including himself, when he received the school's highest standardized test math scores; Cliff, who was routinely absent from school but missed only one class in nearly a decade of higher education; and Lauren, who went from nonreader to multiple-award-winning author.
Here are three similar stories.
JEAN PIERRE
Jean Pierre was a free-spirited, sociable, and gregarious high school student with leadership qualities and a witty, if at times untimely, sense of humor. Those are welcomed attributes in a graduate school seminar and in virtually every job from sales to public speaking, but in Jean Pierre's school they could, as they did, get one into trouble.
Unbeknownst to Jean Pierre, an admissions recruiter from a North Carolina college came to his school ready to offer him a soccer scholarship. During the Q & A session following the recruiter's presentation, Jean Pierre decided to play class clown. The best question that he could come up with was whether the college's basketball players dunked.
Expensive little joke it turned out to be. The principal requested that the scholarship be rescinded and sentenced him to a three-day suspension.
Eventually, the parts of Jean Pierre's brain that assess risks reached full maturity and he learned to use humor only when and where appropriate. At the age of twenty-six, he received a full-ride scholarship with generous yearly stipends to pursue a Ph.D. at North Carolina's most prestigious university.
MARIA
Like one in four Americans, "Maria" was afraid of public speaking, a condition known as glossophobia. One day in her college sophomore year, her literature professor asked her to read aloud an essay she had written. The request caught her off guard; she was nervous and started to make a barely audible presentation. The professor stopped Maria, scolded her for her poor performance and asked her to sit down.
Over the years, Maria gained confidence to the point of being comfortable, and actually enjoying, speaking in front of audiences as large as a couple thousand. These days, she doesn't think twice about giving live radio and TV interviews.
LEE
Readers will recognize this scenario. It's a June afternoon, and high school students, parents, teachers and school administrators are packed into a school auditorium; following a couple of usually unmemorable, hackneyed speeches — "this is not an end, it's a beginning" — the capped-and-gowned master of ceremony calls up students to receive a wide range of medals. Invariably, two or three of them receive the lion's share of the awards. They walk off proudly, sporting chests full of medals.
But Lee came out empty-handed without even that most coveted of medals for perfect attendance. He was satisfied with what used to be called "gentleman's C's."
In Lee's old school and schools around the globe, attaining high grades and collecting medals has become an unhealthy obsession that oftentimes interferes with — actually, stifles — learning and the development of important skills and aptitudes. I have said in public more than once, to the astonishment of audiences large and small, that I am suspicious of straight-A students.
With a couple of exceptions, Lee's high school teachers were unwilling or incapable of recognizing or giving him credit for other strengths, such as divergent thinking, creativity (as in coloring outside the lines), intellectual risk-taking, and innovation, all of which, by the way, are highly cherished in today's employment environment.
Despite (arguably because of) his lackluster high school grades, Lee went on to become a successful scholar. His books have earned him several medals, while his university gave him the highest academic honor it offers its faculty and, somewhat embarrassingly, placed his photograph in local billboards promoting university excellence.
Well, it's time to come clean. I am Pedro, Cliff, Lauren, Jean Pierre, Maria and Lee. I did not write this column to bring attention to my degrees, books and medals but rather to honor the multitude of students who fail math and other courses, lose interest in school, have difficulties reading, clown their way out of opportunities, are terrified of public speaking and don't get any medals in school; and to plead with teachers and school administrators to value and reward true and full student diversity.
You never know. One day you may be driving down the road and be surprised to see one of your C-students' excellence celebrated in an illuminated billboard.

Luis Martinez-Fernandez is author of "Revolutionary Cuba: A History." Readers can reach him at LMF_Column@yahoo.com. To find out more about Luis Martinez-Fernandez and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www. creators.com.
"You never know. One day you may be driving down the road and be surprised to see one of your C-students' excellence celebrated in an illuminated billboard."
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