While Maslow’s hierarchy of needs tops out at “Self Actualization,” there is probably no greater task that humans will try to attain or accomplish than that of acceptance. Self actualization is reserved for the last minutes on the death-bed; acceptance, whether in the form of social, peer, individual, familial, or self, is a life-long battle.

My friend Rosi recently defended her thesis to earn her doctoral degree in Spanish Linguistics from Arizona State University. A thesis is nothing more than a document—a large document—which is written to prove to the elders in the education system that you know what you are talking about, and yes, you deserve that degree you’ve worked so hard for. It’s the last hurdle to leap before you can truly seal a dinner party argument against a boisterous, know-it-all loudmouth with the words, “Well, I don’t know much, but when I earned my Doctoral degree from…”

I know, I know, an education such as Rosi’s is not earned for the sole purpose of delivering the Death Blow to some imbecile who spouts asinine nonsense between gulps of Heineken and fistfuls of cocktail nuts, but it sure sounds cool, doesn’t it?
So, during Rosi’s defense of her 100-page thesis, one of the reviewing professors got a little picky. Now, at one point in time, this professor had to fight for her acceptance into the academic world too, and like all good stories about earning your place in the world, Rosi was meant to suffer some of the same grief that this professor incurred back in the days when people were educated by whip.

Based on my conversations with Rosi, this is how I think it went down. I have taken some literary license, of course.

“This graph is a little out of focus here,” says the professor, peering over her bifocals that apparently harness Space Technology and are seemingly useful for discovering planets by merely gazing out above the horizon, when she’s not criticizing current educational documents.

“Re-do it,” she says, circling the graph with a red Sharpie.

Rosi leans forward, peering over a stack of well-read Cosmopolitan mags and filthy Starbuck’s napkins on the professor’s desk.

“Oh, page two, I’ll make a note of that,” Rosi says, thinking of the graph that her Accountant might show her, detailing her compounding educational expenses compared to her current income. And we’re only on page two? She thinks.

Wide strokes with the Sharpie continue throughout the paper, until the professor feels that Rosi understands that she will only be accepted, despite her amazing GPA, once these trivial changes are made to suit the people who have already been accepted.

Rules set, the bound of paper that makes up Rosi’s application of acceptance to the doctoral realm, with the mile of red ink inside of it, is pushed back to Rosi’s side of the desk. The professor feigns half of a smile, which delivers the message to Rosi that she has more work to do before she will be granted her degree.

For thirty solid seconds, Rosi sits quiet, staring straight ahead while the professor diverts her attention to her Yahoo! Instant Messaging program, where a friend is telling her that the Dixie Chicks concert is sold out. All this time, Rosi thinks, all this time and effort. To any outside observer, Rosi is having a minor stroke.
Rosi breaks her apoplectic stare, shakes her head like she’s winging off gnats, and slips her notepad into her backpack. Standing up, and with one hand on the stack of Cosmos, she slides the marked-up-thesis-in-red back toward the uptight professor and announces, “Thanks, but I’ll just take the ‘C’.”

This is, of course, my version of the events. Rosi tracked back that mile of ink and tailored her thesis to get her acceptance (and subsequently, her degree). Congratulations, Rosi!

You know, the idea of taking the ‘C’ – of shoving it all back and saying “take me/it as it is – accept me for who I am – I’m done here” – is just so enticing. Maybe that’s what Self Actualization is all about.