We Are Not Special

That teacher was right when he told a crowd of high school graduates they are not special. I think more commencement speakers should say that. The message doesn’t have to be discouraging. It’s just a call to action that if you’re going to be genuinely special in the world following graduation, you should achieve something of actual note to merit a distinction that you are special. It’s a sobering reminder that you won’t receive a trophy just for showing up. The world is not like kindergarten.

But before anyone starts grumbling about “kids today and their entitlement,” this message should apply to adults as well. Most people need to hear a bracing message that we are not special because the world is crammed with entitled, narcissistic assholes.

It’s not “kids today” who are screaming “me me me.” It’s all of us. People feel entitled to skip standing in lines with commoners, break rules that apply to everyone and talk about themselves until they are blue in the face and passing out. “Oh, did everyone read my Facebook status update about myself? Look and me, mom and dad, I’m on the high dive! Keep watching!”

I’m not special. I’d like to think I’m special to people in my life, as they are special to me, but I’m not deserving of any more accolades than anybody else. I don’t enrich the world any more than the guy standing next to me. I don’t say this in some fatalistic way or to fish for compliments. It’s more like I shouldn’t say “Why me?” because “Why not me?” I’m some guy. And it’s OK.

I discovered I’m not a narcissist, at least according to some online questionnaire. The normal narcissism rate was between 12 and 18 and I scored 12, which I guess means I barely escape low self-esteem. This surprised me because I do have some narcissism about my looks. On the other hand, I don’t think I’m a leader and don’t think I deserve to be the center of attention or anything like that. I should trumpet the hell out of this questionnaire that says I’m not a narcissist. Woo, look at me, everybody!

It’s a common refrain that we too easily give out trophies and that lowers the bar for success. On one of my self-reviews at my job, I told my boss it was hard to list accomplishments because I only wanted to list when I did something that was an actual accomplishment. I told him I didn’t expect accolades just for doing my job.

To have winners, you have to have losers. To have people who are special, you have to have people who are ordinary. By simple math, most of us are ordinary. We’re all unique but for most people, that uniqueness is not much to write home about. At the high school graduation, I loved the line the teacher said that even if you consider yourself one in a million, with 7 billion people on the planet, there are still 7,000 others just like you.

That may sound harsh but that message doesn’t have to be the end of the world. Most of us are not special but heed my new motto for life: I’m sure you’ll live.

Can you tell why I’m not a motivational speaker?