For a variety of reasons, people seem to think I’m smarter than the average bear. Maybe it’s because I come from an academic family, or because I skipped first grade (betcha didn’t know people did that!), or because I went to a private school and then a liberal arts college. Or because I know a lot of esoteric minutiae and can pop out facts at bizarre moments – and sometimes when necessary, like playing as part of a trivia team. And I do wear glasses…
Then I look at blog posts or speak with friends about professional things and realize that I’m not as thoughtful a person as they are, or as capable of expressing my thoughts in the coherent manner they do. My love of books and ability to discuss them with students doesn’t translate into the analytical, considered words they can use with ease. Whatever the reason, the inner stuff doesn’t come out as articulately from me as it does from others.
And then there’s the reading. I think I read a lot, but at the recent RUSA Awards event it became clear that, well, clearly I’d been reading totally different stuff. Not that it really should matter, of course, but somehow, sometimes it does.
So am I smart, dumb or somewhere in between? More important, does it matter?