A Letter to Malcolm Gladwell

Dear Mr. Gladwell,

I've just finished reading your book Outliers.  I find myself forced to ask, can I also be one of them. The conclusion of the book is that we are all outliers, or we all can be, but it depends on what opportunities we are given and how we use them. I have written that too simply. It seems more complicated. Success does depend on luck or opportunities. However, those not raised with the know-how to handle themselves or others do not experience success. Now I am badly recapping your book, when what I really want is to ask a question.

I want to find out if I am capable of the success that lies in working at something I'm passionate about. How delicious it would be to have your analysis of my life, to uncover the social factors which have led me to where I am today. Since I don't have your analysis, I will do my best to make my own.

After reading your book, it seems to me firstly that I am lacking practice, specifically the ten thousand hours. I dropped out of the Piano Performance program in college because I thought I wasn't good enough, but your book helped me realize it was because I didn't study and practice enough. My father believed in doing things yourself. Although he could have let me live with him and helped with my tuition, he thought he was doing the best thing by kicking me out and letting me figure out how to pay for college myself.

My father is half Greek. Perhaps something in his ancestry had instilled in him this belief in independence. As a result, I worked three minimum wage jobs for a combined forty sometimes fifty hours a week to make enough money to pay for rent, food, and tuition. My father also didn't believe in loans and raised me to believe that going into debt was shameful. The first couple years I had small scholarships which helped with the price of tuition. By the time I joined the music program I no longer had scholarships and tuition was rising. Still, I was determined not to take out loans.

I didn't know any other students in my major who worked. Every person I knew was supported by their parents and/or had student loans. A few did work in the music library about ten hours a week. I did reasonably well my first year in the program, although I struggled in Keyboarding. We had to write the notes we heard, and I had never played by ear before. Memorizing sounds was my weakness and I avoided this practice. I had also never studied music theory or chord progressions.

I did not have a professional piano teacher (meaning someone who had a degree in Piano Performance) From the age of seven until sixteen I took lessons from various neighborhood piano teachers who taught while their kids ran amuck through the house. A legitimate teacher was expensive. At sixteen, when I found a professional teacher, my dad wouldn't pay for my lessons, so I worked in an ice cream shop and taught piano lessons to pay for my own lessons. I thought it was my lack of professional instruction that made me lag behind the other students in the areas of Keyboarding and Theory. Now I know in part it was.

But it was also because I was working so many hours to support myself and pay my own way. I married during my second year in the program and as a result lost my half-price tuition discount (received because my father worked in maintenance for the University). Dating and marriage further limited my time. The added financial burden of loosing my discount meant that I had to also find a better job. I found a job working for a credit card company, but the commute meant I had even less time than I had when I worked near campus.

The semester after I got this job I was failing two of my classes, and for the first time felt incompetent in my ability to learn and perform new songs. I told my piano teacher I was thinking about dropping out. He strongly urged me to apply for loans and scholarships. I didn't realize these could be used to live on as well as to pay tuition. I thought that even if I did apply for this money, I would still have to work to pay living expenses, and be in the same predicament. I dropped out. This is where my upbringing in the Church of Jesus Christ also played a part in my thinking and decision making.

The only reason I had chosen Piano Performance as a major was because I enjoyed playing the piano. I had already taught piano to children while I was in high school, and although I seemed to be proficient as a teacher, I did not enjoy it. Piano Performance was a vanity major. I never intended to use the degree, I intended to get married and be a stay at home mom. I had been taught by the culture of my religion that being a mother should be my highest aspiration, and it was. Although I did want to be able to say I had my degree, I didn't think it was necessary for my emotional or financial success.

I thought of myself as lacking compared to other students. I was sure my falling grades and lost confidence in my playing was due to the fact that I just wasn't as good as the other students, and that no amount of practice could make me better. Now I realize that if I had the support of my father, been willing to take out loans, if I'd grown up in a culture that didn't place motherhood over education, if I'd bucked at what I'd been taught, stopped working, and applied myself one thousand percent to studying and practicing, I would have been just fine. I would have been able to progress and complete my degree.

That is great weight to have lifted, to know that it wasn't my ability that was lacking. The musical ability was always there, the hours of practice were not. Thank you for helping me realize this.

I have recently completed my Bachelor of English degree. I am thirty-four years old. Up until now, it had always bothered me that I didn't have a degree. A year after dropping out from the music program I tried Accounting because I always liked math, and it seemed I would not be a stay at home mom and needed to find a lucrative career. That lasted a year before I dropped out again. Turns out I didn't like numbers as much as I thought I did.

I ended up working in customer service for an airline. I worked my way up through supervisor positions, but when the next step was management, I realized I didn't want to be a leader. I was missing out on too much with my kids. I was short on sleep and patience, and long on stress. I applied for a demotion. I wrote a post about that here. Since that time I have bounced between a couple different departments, but essentially doing the same thing: taking phone calls and answering customers' emails. While in this transitory stage I realized I wanted to be a writer like Jeanette Walls, Betty Smith, and Wallace Stegner. First, I worked on writing my personal history. Then, I worked on writing fiction using pieces of my own life. I found a writing group which helped me have a deadline to write a new chapter each week.

I knew I could continue to write without a degree, but I still wanted the title of graduate, and it may as well be in something that was going to help me in my creative writing endeavors, even if I wasn't going change careers after graduation. For many years I wasn't sure when I'd be able to get that elusive degree. I wasn't going to attempt it while raising two children and working full time. Though others have done more, I wanted to make sure I didn't set myself up for burnout after just a few semesters.

I figured worse case scenario I would go back to school when my kids were older or even grown up. Then something miraculous happened. My husband who had been working as a commercial plumber in new construction was offered a job in a hospital doing maintenance. It wasn't the job he wanted. He would no longer officially work as a plumber and it wasn't as much money as he wanted, but it was more than his previous company was paying, and it came with health insurance benefits, something I had been providing with my job up until then. This switch in my husbands career was necessary to allow me to go part-time.

After working part-time for a few months, I realized both my kids would be in Elementary school soon and I would find myself with an abundance of free time. This change in circumstance allowed me to get my degree. If it hadn't been for Mike's change in job, I wouldn't have gone back to school when I did.

During my last year of classes our kids seemed to require more help in their own studies, and more time doing extracurricular activities. We also took on the responsibility of moving my handicapped mother in with us to better take care of her. I thought once I graduated I would have so much more free time for writing. After all, I kept up with my classes, earning perfect grades and pumping out essays, surely I would be just as efficient after graduation, especially since now I can write about anything I want to. However, this has not been the case.

So far, it has been a busier year than expected. I have not even come near to the amount I thought I would write after graduation. I realize I am still a long way off from achieving ten thousand hours. I also hoped I would be noticed by one of my professors who would become a mentor. This never happened. I believe it didn't because I am very quiet in class and find it difficult to connect with people or ask for help. I had hoped by going to school I might build a new community for myself of literary academics, but I didn't make a single lasting friendship with any of my English peers. At this point I am not sure if going back to school will serve me in the future as far as connections. I am not sure if it is one of those 'right time, right place' scenarios that will prove to be essential to my making.

I wonder if I am like Joe Flom. Will I miss my opportunities because I have not learned to make the world into what I need to it be? I'm afraid I fall into the category of children whose parents were not involved in their education, who did not teach them to question those in authority, or that they were important enough to have their questions answered. I was not taught self-assurance or confidence. I hope through study and practice these are things I can learn, can change despite my history, just like the Korean Airline pilots.

I also worry how I will get ten thousand hours in. By my calculations I only have about one thousand hours clocked so far. Will it take another ten years, twenty? I'm not sure. I hope the former. One thing seems certain, that much of my time to write depends on Mike's career. Since he was hired at the hospital, he has improved his position year over year. He is one promotion away from paving the way for me to quit my job and write full time. I wonder if things will work out this way or another.

*

Fast forward two weeks since I've written the previous words in this post and I still haven't published them. I actually forgot all about it, until I started listening to Brene Brown's book The Power of Vulnerability.  I chose it because after reading your book, Mr. Gladwell, I realized I needed to learn confidence. I'm not very far into Brown's book yet, but I do realize publishing this makes me vulnerable: to comments, to other people's opinions about my life. Even though I'm not sure there's more than two subscribers to this blog, and even if no one reads this, it's still. . .out there.

To answer my own question: yes, I am capable of becoming an outlier. I believe no matter how many years it takes, I will get my ten thousand hours. I believe I can re-educated myself through books to develop qualities not learned during my upbringing. I no longer worry or hope or wonder. I believe.


Many Thanks,

Anya

Bonus Day: Musee d'Archeologie

After I finished posting all these journals I realized somehow I never wrote about the Musee d'Archeologie, which is a crime because it was by far one of my favorite museums in Grenoble. It was so great I visited it twice. So this place was originally built in the fourth century and throughout changes in history more and more was built onto it. What is so remarkable is that it houses a crypt. There are skeletons partially excavated all over this place. The entire floor of this church has been excavated so you have to walk out onto a suspended ramp they built for viewing, and below you is just this incredible burial site.

They have this video that projects onto the wall of the church that explains the entire history of the site and how it changed and was built upon throughout centuries. I was so happy to find the museum has this video on their website. Check it out here.

one of the many entrances to an underground crypt

the ceiling of the main church

you can see in a later century they tried to build
over the original architecture with the new rock archway

the floor of the church

Day 40: Departure Day & Everything I Love about France

Friday, 28 July 2018

Doomsday. I’m being dramatic, but I really do not want to go home. It took a while, but I’m not homesick anymore, and now the thought of leaving France makes me feel ill.

There are so many things I love about being here: the cheese, the lettuce, the climate. I think I like the humidity. It’s nice for my hair anyway, I don’t have to condition and it’s still silky smooth. The climate also makes it possible for flowers to bloom all summer long.

There’s so much more foliage here than I’m used to seeing. People take care of their yards and garden. I haven’t seen a single yard or balcony that wasn’t adorned with flowers. And although very hot, it’s still a lot more mild of a summer here than in Utah. I hear from Mike they’re still hitting 100 degrees pretty regularly at home.

I also like the fact that there is no air conditioning. It means that I am not freezing every time I walk into a building, or even my own house. I heard the kids fighting and Amy whining and crying the other day when I was talking to Mike and just the thought of feeling overwhelmed by the kids, my emotions struck dread inside of me. 

I finished packing every last thing and ate breakfast with Helene and Rémi. We talked about children. Sometimes Rémi has to go to schools to teach sports for the day and he says he was a rambunctious kid, so he always spots the trouble kids first and takes a lot more time explaining things to them. He says they are his favorite.

I thought this was good advice that I should try out on Hunter. Just the acceptance and being willing to take the time to really give him thorough instructions, because most the time he is not listening. I told them how we took Hunter to get his hearing tested when he was very little because he was such a terrible listener we thought he was deaf. Helene said she did the same thing with Remi’s older brother, exactly the same, and we laughed and laughed. I am going to miss them.

Day 39: A Cake Named Success

Thursday 27 July 2017

Morning class again today. I only slept 5 hours again, but it was one of those day when it didn’t affect me. Instead of going to the caves though, I went downtown to buy gifts for family, and flowers for Helene. There are so many flower shops in French cities, they are everywhere. Being a florist in France is a serious occupation. Silly me, I thought that certain flowers have certain meanings so when I went inside the florist shop I told the woman that I needed a bouquet to say Merci, and au revoir. She looked at me funny and said any flower will do, what’s my price range, and then she asked me what colors I wanted, and if it was for a woman or man, and helped me arrange a beautiful bouquet of purples and pinks. It really was quite striking. I was quite pleased with the way it turned out. Helene was also very energetic when I gave it to her, very excited and jolly. She even greeted me the French way. I think I finally worked my way into that woman’s heart. I think Helene and Rémi both are also kindred spirits and I couldn’t have asked for nicer people to stay with.

Before I came home and gave the flowers to Helene, I met up with Katrina and Kayla at the Falaffel restaurant we had eaten at the week before. While I was waiting to meet them there, I asked the waiter if I could have a glass of water for the flowers and he was very kind to provide one, so they didn’t die before I got home. The girls showed up and we had a great lunch, sitting on the sidewalk and talking about all the good times we’ve had here. It was hard knowing this was the last time in France we would be able to meet up for lunch together. I’m actually happy we did that instead of the caves.

I loved this flowering bush in Helene's yard.

I went home and began to clean my room, put things away, and get ready for packing before I had dinner with Helene and Rémi. Since it was my last dinner, we had drinks in the sitting room before the meal. Fruit juice for me, and a beer for Rémi. The conversation this night was about forest animals. I learned the French have Marmots and Weasels. We had my favorite salad for dinner, those sweet tender green leaves with a little bit of chopped onion and huile de noix with  cidre vinaigre de pomme for dressing. As per Helene’s usual style, she cooked fish for dinner, a baked cod or halibut I’m not sure, but it was a white fish, thin and flat, like the kind we catch when we go fishing in the mountains. It was very good with lemon squeezed over the top of it, and for vegetable there was baked cauliflower and potatoes in a creamy sauce. After the main plat Helene brought out the cheese and knowing it was my last cheese in France I tried to savor every bite. I had a hard chevre which was very good. Helene surprised me after the cheese by bringing out another dessert. She had bought petite gâteaux at the patisserie which had little golden medallions on the tops of them that said succès.

The table where we had all of our outdoor meals

Helene's little side garden
with the tomato plants we
enjoyed in salad so many nights

The word means success in English and I thanked her for wishing me success and for doing something special on my last night. They were little cakes of a very thick creamy chocolate mousse, a layer on top and bottom of some kind of crust and the whole thing dipped in chocolate. They were so delicious and so thoughtful, I thanked her again for wishing me success. Then I asked her what the little cakes are called, and she told me the name of the gateau is succès. I almost burst out laughing, it was so silly of me, but perhaps my French was so poor she didn’t even realize I thought she was wishing me success, and didn’t realize it was the name of the cake. 

Day 38: A Study Abroad Dinner

Wednesday, 26 July 2017

I heard about a cave not far away, near the Seyssinage Chateau. A very small chateau just outside of Grenoble. We made plans to go to it, but we also had morning class on Wednesday, and I was so tired from returning late from the fondue restaurant, and then calling Mike and the kids, and then trying to book my flight home and not being able to log into the booking system, that I didn’t go to bed until 1 am, and woke up for school at 6am. I felt bad changing my mind at the last minute to not go to the caves, especially since I was the person who suggested and organized the excursion, but it was so worth going home.

We were supposed to meet at a restaurant that night. The University was paying for all the Utah students to have dinner together. I knew if I didn’t get some sleep I wouldn’t enjoy the dinner that night. I went home and slept for 3 hours solid. Sometimes I have very little sleep and it doesn’t affect me, and sometimes it does, and today was one of those days it did. I’m so glad I slept because it felt so good.

Dinner that night was really fun as well. I shared a table with Katrina and Anthony, and even though Eric was at a different table, he came over to talk with us periodically. It was Katrina’s idea to talk about your middle school self. It was actually really funny to hear what everyone was like in middle-school. I just remember a lot of laughing and sharing embarrassing stories.

The restaurant was good too. We had a salad to start, with something like a giant circular crouton in the center with melted blue cheese on it, thick juicy tomatoes, lettuce that reminded me of Swiss chard, but of course softer and sweeter, and a slice of cantaloupe. For the next course I had chicken which wasn’t that great but I don’t really like chicken, so I’m a harsh judge. There were also creamy scalloped potatoes which reminded me of Grandma Horman’s, and green beans. For dessert we had a tarte de noix which was very good, and had been a bit burned on top.

Katrina and I took the bus together to go home. It’s so sad that this last week is when we realized we could have been taking the same bus all this time to get home.

Anyways I’m glad we got to hang out for a bit just the two of us before we went home. It turns out she had been praying to find another friend in France, at the same time I had been praying to find a good friend. It’s definitely no coincidence that we met each other when we did. Without her company, this trip wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable as it has been.

I had a 30 minute walk home from the bus stop. I saw wild white rabbits scurrying through the neighborhood on my way. It was a good thing it was a long walk because I had time to think about how I couldn’t book my plane ticket, and then I worked it out in my mind why my password wasn’t working, and when I got home, I was able to get it to work, so that was nice to not have to worry about that any longer.

Day 37: We celebrate Katrina's Birthday with Fondue and a Movie

Tuesday, 25 July 2017

We had afternoon class and then right after I went to the Pathe Cinema at Chavant. I met Katrina there with Bianca, Anthony, Kayla, and an Italian guy we met Monday night at an extracurricular French event, which basically amounted to meeting with other French students and speaking French at a bar. That turned out to be really awkward. Bianca invited Katrina and me to come with her to it, and since we had nothing better to do we thought fine.

We thought it was going to be a bit more educational though, and the guy I got stuck talking to the whole time was very difficult to understand. His first language is Arabic (he’s from Libya) and he also speaks English, but is learning French. Aside from speaking in a very thick Arabian accent, he didn’t talk loud enough and the bar was very loud with everybody else talking.

There was another guy talking with us as well who was from Spain and he also knew English, but I had no trouble understanding him. Still, it was like one of those awkward dates where you’re just sitting there talking, but really you’re trying to think of an excuse to leave early. At the bar Bianca met the Italian named Gabriel and invited him to the movie as well.

Katrina wanted to see Dunkirk for her birthday. I’m not really not into war movies, but I was happy to have something to do and people to hang out with. Oh dear, perhaps this is becoming a theme, doing things I wouldn’t do normally just to avoid hanging out in my bedroom by myself all night.

After the movie Anthony went home to have dinner with his host family, but the rest of us stayed out to try another fondue place. I’m so glad Katrina picked it. I wanted to try another fondue place to compare the two. We shared another cheese with herbs but also got a chocolate fondue to share with fruit. We tried the cheese first, and honestly I could not tell any difference between this cheese and the fondue place in Geneva, so I’m guessing both places were good. The chocolate was so rich. It had that darkness kind of flavor without being too bitter. My favorite were the pears dipped in chocolate.

This was the first night (besides being gone on the week-ends) where I had missed dinner with Helene and Rémi. I was kind of sad not to eat with them, but I’m glad we got to celebrate for Katrina. She and I get along really well. She is most definitely a kindred spirit, such a great genuine person.

Days 35-36: Where I visit the Chartreuse Monastery & Helene and I talk Protestantism and Mormonism

Sunday 23 July 2017

I was supposed to go to Mass this morning with Katrina, but she was at a concert with her host family last night that didn’t start until 10 pm, so this morning she texted that she felt like staying home, and so I decided not to go anywhere as well. I just felt like the day wouldn’t be as fun if I was in Grenoble by myself all day. It actually turned out to be a really great thing that we didn’t go.

The original Monastery which now houses the museum

The monks rooms

I thought I would catch up on some writing, which I did in the morning. I had lunch with Helene and Rémi and it was so delicious and amazing, and things I had never thought to prepare before. It was really simple, as are most of her meals but still, she sliced tomatoes and red peppers and drizzled them with olive oil and vinegar, fresh sliced basil, thin sliced white onions, and three large rectangles of feta cheese, one for each of us. Another thing which had never occurred to me was to serve feta whole, instead of crumbling it up. I don’t know how, but it tasted so much better whole.

At lunch I explained how Katrina didn’t feel like going, and so then Helene asked if I wanted to go on the tour of the monastery in Chartreuse, and I was like, um yes! Who wouldn’t want to visit a monastery in the mountains that is over 1000 years old?

Monks workshop

The museum isn’t in the actual monastery because the actual monastery is still in use today, and these are silent monks, meaning they take a vow of silence. Even though they live in this compound, they all have separate quarters and use this box in the wall system to receive their meals. If they need to communicate they leave a note in the box.

We got to see how they lived anciently, what their rooms looked like, and what they look like today. It’s very minimalist, which I could totally appreciate.

After the museum, Helene wanted to take a hike, so we walked up this really long road to where the actual monastery is. It’s pretty huge, and it looks like a castle. It is surrounded by a stone wall, so you really can’t see inside, and you can’t see the monks.

Monks room

The road to the new monastery

On the walk we started talking about religions, mainly Catholic and Protestant. I feel like I really don’t know a lot about Protestants, so I was asking Helene who started Protestantism, and why it was started. She explained to me about Martin Luther, and how he thought religion should be for everyone, not just the rich. He was especially against the idea that you could buy your way into heaven by giving the Catholic Church money, so he started the Protestant church in Germany. He also didn’t believe the King of Germany was appointed by God, which made the pope really mad, but the wise King of Germany allowed Protestants to practice anyways.

People started practicing Protestantism in other countries as well, and in France the pope was worried about losing power over the people. He instructed the King of France to round up Protestants and kill them, so many of them immigrated to Germany. That’s the short version, but really interesting history.

As we were talking, I asked Helene if she knew about how the LDS church was started. She said she knew it was started by a man named John Smith (Joseph Smith, but I didn't have the heart to correct her) but that was it. Anyways we started talking about Joseph Smith.

The new Monastery still in use today

Usually I feel really weird talking to people about religion, and I certainly don’t want to seem like I’m forcing my religion on anyone, but the conversation continued very casually. So I started explaining in French Joseph Smith’s first vision and ended with the story of how he was killed. Rémi asked me to keep going, so I kept telling the history until the pioneers came to Utah up to present times. Rémi said one time he was in Geneva and remembers talking to the missionaries on the street. I didn't go on a mission, and I'm pretty reserved, so I have very little experience talking to people about religion outside of church. I was pretty nervous to talk about my church's history, but this turned out to be a wonderful conversation. It was so interesting to share our church's history, and didn't feel awkward at all as I had always feared a conversation about religion would be.

Then when we got home Helene and I were eating dinner without Rémi because he was having dinner at his Dad’s house. I couldn’t stop thinking about the Book of Mormon, because I’d told her about the angel Moroni and how the book was translated and thinking that I had that French copy I had brought with me. I thought I was going to finish reading it while I’m here, but I actually never picked it up. Helene wanted to keep talking theology, and explaining to me what Protestants believe and asking me what Mormons believed and it was all very cordial, and it was enjoyable learning about each other. I mentioned I had a copy of the book in French if she was curious. After dinner I brought it out for her, but then I had to call Mike as I do every night. Because of the time difference between 9-10 pm is the best time to call him. 

Monday 24 July 2017

The next morning at breakfast Helene was very excited to tell me immediately that she understood the book was about ancient people who migrated from Jerusalem to the Americas and became the Native Americans. She said it was very interesting and such a wonderful thing that we had this history. What I was most surprised about was that she treated the book as truth. Maybe she was just being polite, but not once did she say or even portray that she might be thinking Joseph Smith was crazy or that the Book of Mormon was a fraud. I think I automatically expect people to be distrusting of Mormons and our beliefs, so it was wonderful to have a conversation that was mutually respectful. Helene is such a wonderful woman, I am so lucky I ended up at her house.