I miss the feeling of learning something just because I wanted to know it — not because it was on a study guide or because I’d be tested on it — but just because it was interesting. It was the kind of curiosity that made me look up from a book and think: wait, the world is even bigger than I thought.
Somewhere along the way, that feeling got quieter. The shift was slow, like a battery losing charge. You don’t notice it until one day you realize the curiosity is gone. School didn’t kill it on purpose, but the constant stream of deadlines, rubrics and grade thresholds made learning feel less like discovery and more like duty.
I stopped following questions that didn’t lead to the right answer on a test. I stopped seeing knowledge as something alive and started treating it like something to collect, store and hand over for points. Research backs this up: overemphasizing grades can block genuine curiosity, shifting students’ focus from learning to performing, according to a Harvard Business School analysis. In other words, the education system’s rewards can slowly push out the very thing that makes learning meaningful.
Standardized tests take this problem even further. They claim to measure intelligence, but what they actually capture is access to resources, the ability to memorize patterns and how well someone performs under pressure — they only measure a small slice of human ability. Factors like test anxiety and socioeconomic privilege all play into scores, meaning a student’s test score often reflects their circumstances more than their actual capacity to learn.
I remember a conversation I had with someone who pointed out that if they had scored just one point higher on the ACT they would've been named salutatorian, a title that could have opened countless academic and career doors. The thought stuck with me: how can a single test number carry that much weight, when it says so little about the actual depth of someone’s mind? The issue is that we start confusing those numbers with brilliance itself, when in reality, they miss the most human parts of how our minds work.
Studies in neuroscience argue students who struggle in traditional classrooms, often labeled as “C students,” may actually have brains wired for success in a different form. Research from the University of Pennsylvania shows variation in the prefrontal cortex and amygdala make certain students more comfortable with risk-taking and experimentation, skills that schools rarely reward but are crucial for real world problem-solving. Similarly, a study published on PubMed Central finds that individuals with ADHD or dyslexia often find conventional classrooms challenging. But, their unique qualities can foster creativity, resilience and unconventional thinking.
History is full of examples. Barbara Corcoran, who has dyslexia, struggled in school but built a real estate empire and became a star on the TV show Shark Tank. Steve Jobs, who faced challenges in traditional classrooms, became one of the most influential innovators in history. And Simon Biles, who has ADHD, turned what might’ve been considered a weakness into fuel for her athletic success.
The very traits our rigid grading systems often penalize may actually fuel curiosity, adaptability and lifelong learning, the characteristics schools struggle to measure but that keep learning alive outside the classroom.
The tragedy isn’t just that the system prioritizes efficiency over curiosity, it’s that we forget what it feels like to be genuinely excited to learn something. I think about the times I’ve felt it: staying up late watching a random documentary about history, falling down an internet rabbit hole about bodily functions, questioning my brother about random football facts knowing fully well I didn’t understand, asking my parents about their childhoods and realizing I haven’t heard half their stories. None of those moments will ever show up on a transcript, but they are the ones that make me feel most alive.
So the next time a question sparks even the slightest flicker of interest, chase it. Ask that stupid question, follow that weird tangent, dive into something you don’t have to know. Those little sparks are the parts of yourself the system can’t touch, and they’re worth protecting.
Tests aren’t going anywhere. They’ll always exist, and we’ll always have to play along. But maybe the answer isn’t to fight the system as much as it’s to protect the parts of ourselves it can’t reach — the secret, stubborn pockets of curiosity we keep for ourselves, and the things we learn without permission or purpose.
Here’s the truth: grades fade, GPAs flatten out, but the way you love learning stays with you forever. It shapes how you see the world, how you make sense of it and how you keep growing long after the tests stop.
Shreya Bhargava is a sophomore studying Legal Studies. Do you agree that the educational system is hurting students' curiosity? Send all comments to opinion@dailycardinal.com
