Students can be very tough on themselves. It concerns me that some carry a very narrow definition of success and others see asking for help as a sign of weakness. Years ago, freelance writer Linda Weltner shared the following story attributed to Norris Lee in The Boston Globe:

A lecturer stands in the front of a class of overachievers, holding a 1-gallon wide-mouth mason jar. He fills it with good-size rocks, then asks the group, “Is this jar full?” The audience agrees that it is.

“Oh, really?” he asks. He pours in several handfuls of gravel. “Is the jar full now?” The audience is doubtful. Probably not. He pours a handful of sand into the jar, filling it to the brim. “How about now?” he asks. Not yet. He pours in a pitcher of water.

“OK,” he asks. “What’s the lesson to be learned here?”

“Well,” says a man sitting near the front, “you’ve just demonstrated that no matter how full your schedule is, you can always fit more in.”

“You’re absolutely wrong,” says the teacher. “The point I’m making is that if you don’t put the rocks in first, you’ll never get them all in.”

This story says a lot about success. Harvard educators have more than education as a job; they must help students identify what the “rocks” in their world are at any point. By “rocks,” I mean the things a student wants to place high priority on when assessing progress made or distance still to go. Students want to be successful, but too often they see success in a limited way (for instance, a near flawless transcript) or they don’t really know what they are working toward.

In high school, it was simpler. Students pushed to assemble records that would get them into top colleges. With tougher competition in college, it becomes more difficult to achieve the near flawless transcript. And, with many more post-graduate options, it is difficult to feel a clear sense of direction.

In the past, when I have asked advisees what they want to be sure gets into the jar, or what they will use as a marker of success, they have thought hard. Some responses come to mind: I want to feel like I fit in personally and have one or two really good friends; I want to make strong progress in identifying a concentration; I want to interview my grandmother, whose health is failing, in order to begin to write a memoir. These responses have given the students a personal compass and a chance to look back at the end of the year with—more often than not—a sense of accomplishment and self-worth. That awareness has mattered hugely.

My second concern is about the act of asking for help. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, a poet and psychoanalyst, made the following statement: “Asking the proper questions is the central action of transformation. Questions are the key that causes the secret doors of the psyche to swing open.” I know that it can be hard to ask questions or to acknowledge that you don’t have the answers that appear critical to move forward. But, it is important to remember that this is a complicated place and this is a complicated period of one’s development. We think more—not less—of students who ask questions and who take advantage of the myriad resources and support services here. Doing so suggests a kind of agency or taking charge that is both appropriate and applaudable and that contributes significantly to the achievement of success.



Thomas A. Dingman ’67 is the dean of freshmen at Harvard College.