What do you hate?
Like, if there was just one thing that you could wipe off the face of the earth, what would it be?
I hate stupid girls.
More accurately, I hate girls who act stupid when they really are not because they think it will get them somewhere.
I hate it even more when that actually works.
I am NOT a stupid girl. You probably wouldn’t know it by the sentence fragments and misuse of commas on this blog, but I actually went to college on a full academic scholarship and graduated a year early, then stayed and earned my Master’s degree in my fourth year at school. I graduated with a 3.89 undergrad GPA and a 3.9 on my graduate work.
I chose to do my schooling at a women’s college that chose to live by the phrase “Educate a woman, educate a nation.”
And now I have two gorgeous daughters and they are pretty smart cookies if I do say so myself.
The other night I was sitting with my four-year-old and playing a learning game on the iPad. It was meant for younger kids and was too easy for her. This is the girl who likes to stand over her older brother’s shoulder while he’s doing his homework and shout the answers before he can figure them out. She was supposed to count how many of each kind of animal came on the screen. The first several times she did it correctly, but then she got bored. She started saying the wrong number on purpose and she thought it was hysterical.
“Three!” laughs “Look, Mommy, there are three zebras, right? I only see three” (There are really five.)
“That’s not funny.”
“Heeeeheeeeheee. There are only three, right? I can only count to three.” (She can count much higher.)
She thought this was hilarious. I thought it was frightening. Is it possible that it could be ingrained in her this early that it is cool to act dumber than you are?
“That’s not funny. Acting dumb is never funny. Girls who act dumb are very, very stupid. And you, my dear, are NOT a stupid girl. You’re a smart one. Do you understand?” (Yeah, I read Carol Dwek. The research says I shouldn’t tell her she’s smart. The research can shove it.)
“Yes, Mommy. Look, there are five zebras.”
“Good job honey! Do you want to play a different game?”
“Yeah, this one is too easy. Let’s play Candy Crush.”
And we did. We crushed it. Because that’s what we do.
We’re SMART girls and I don’t intend to let my daughters forget it.
Smart girls rock! I also have 2 daughters and I love to see their smarty pants pride!
Thanks for this!
Smart girls really do rock, don’t they?
My husband swears that I’m smarter than him, and that’s why he wanted me – meaning me above all others… He wanted a comparable mate – truly I think he’s smarter, but he’s a bookworm, and I’m common sense… Both are important… And I certainly hope that I can instill lots of both in all of my children. But I will forever praise their intellectual accomplishments. You can’t tell me that it will stop making them want to learn more. I think it just reinforces, in their heart of hearts, that their intelligence is valued.
Amen. My husband says that’s the reason he picked me too. When you’re old and gray and sitting in the rocking chairs all day it’s important to be with someone who can actually hold a conversation.
Love this! Growing up in the age of Valley Girls (like, totally, for sure!), I swore that I would make my daughter proud of how smart she is. So far, so good, but she’s only 3 😉 I love the words you put, “Dumb girls are stupid.”
I remember a time when Clueless was my favorite movie. For shame.