Growing up, I heard the word genius a lot. It was always my dad who brought it up. He liked to say, "You know, you're no genius!" I don't remember how I responded. Maybe I pretended not to hear. I wasn't the only problem. My dad didn't think my brother was a genius, either. By his standards, none of us measured up to Einstein. Apparently, this was a great disappointment. Dad worried that this would limit what we'd eventually achieve in life. Two years ago, I was fortunate enough to be awarded a MacArthur Fellowship, sometimes called the "genius grant." It is an award given by a secret committee that includes the top people in your field and decides you're doing important and creative work. I was surprised and grateful. Meanwhile, I had time to think about the situation. A girl who is told repeatedly that she's no genius ends up winning an award for being one. The award goes to her because she has discovered that what we eventually achieve may depend more on our great interest and perseverance than on our inborn talent. She has by then obtained degrees from some pretty tough schools, but in the third grade, she didn't test high enough for the gifted program. Her parents are Chinese immigrants (移民), but she didn't get lectured on the greatness of hard work. The morning the MacArthur was announced, my dad said to me, "I'm proud of you." I had so much to say in response, but instead I just said, "Thanks, Dad." I knew that my dad was proud of me. Still, part of me wanted to travel back in time to when I was a young girl. I'd tell him what I know now. I would say, "Dad, you think I'm no genius. I won't argue with that. You know plenty of people who are smarter than I am." I can imagine his head nodding in agreement. "But let me tell you something. I'm going to grow up to love my work as much as you love yours. I'll challenge myself every day. When I get knocked down, I'll get back up. I may not be the smartest person in the room, but I'll try my best to be the grittiest." And if he was still listening: "Over time, Dad, grit may matter more than talent." 1. Why did the author's father think of her as a problem?