Stretching ourselves for $200, Alex
Several years ago, my younger daughter said to me, “You're the smartest woman I know.”
Modesty, if nothing else, made me protest, “I don't know about that – just look at your aunts. One has an MBA, one is a CGA, and one left a good career to become an RMT, wanting to heal people. They all go to work every day and prove just how smart they are.”
“That’s the point,” my daughter replied. “They all spent a lot of time and money on school and now they work hard every day while you sit around the house doing anything you like. That’s why you are the smartest woman I know.”
Of course, I protested that being a stay-at-home mom is both a privilege and a sacrifice, that not having opportunities to go out and prove myself can be a little soul crushing – no dice. I didn’t change her basic assumption.
Fast forward to early this January, and while watching Jeopardy with my husband he turned to me and said, “Honey, you’re the smartest person I know. You should try out for this.”
There was a message on the screen that there will be an upcoming contestant audition in Toronto and a website was provided for the online test. I turned to him and said, “Everyone knows how easy it is to shout out answers in your living room. I would only embarrass myself if I was on TV.”
“What have you got to lose?” he asked.
I shrugged, but I knew the answer. I would never risk making myself look foolish. I would rather have people in my life think that I’m a reasonably intelligent and polished person than be publicly exposed as nervous and hesitant.
And that’s assuming I would pass the online test and the live audition!
What if I failed to even qualify? And then I began to worry to myself. What if I actually got on the show? I have nothing, no story at all, that I could talk about with Alex during the contestant interview. I’d look like an idiot.
I actually worried about this. I live a quiet, happy, conflict-free life that provides few interesting anecdotes. Certainly nothing worthy of television.
But then I thought about my daughters, about how I could be a better role-model for taking risks and I did the online test.
It was much easier than I thought it would be. I was answering questions without hesitation, confident in everything I typed, and then on question 49, the screen went blank. I don't know what happened, but I’m assuming my test didn’t go through.
Yet, I’m pleased. I took this first step towards trying something uncomfortable and writing this story down, thinking about sharing it at the risk of looking foolish is another step in that direction.
To anyone reading, maybe this can be the year we all stretch ourselves a little. And if I ever do get on Jeopardy, maybe I'll even have a story to tell.
As it appeared in the Cambridge Times.
