I don't know about that last line, but everything before that rings true. My graduate school mentor told this story quite a bit, and it has always stuck with m

I don't know about that last line, but everything before that rings true. My graduate school mentor told this story quite a bit, and it has always stuck with me: I grew up poor, like dirt poor. Dirt floor, no shoes, backwoods poor. I did well in high school, I was well known around town, and people liked me. They knew I was a good kid with good intentions, who just happened to come from poor folks. I knew that graduating from high school would make me a big man. My parents had never finished high school. I knew people would look up to me. Then I heard about university. I knew that if I graduated with a bachelors that I would be it. People would respect me. People would look up to me. My parents didn't even know about the university system, let alone what getting a bachelors meant. So, I went to college, I did well. People knew me around campus, I was involved in clubs and sports and worked. People liked me. I knew I was going to be a big man. Then I heard about graduate school. I had to get a masters. I knew for my career it would bring me respect. I knew personally it would bring me respect. People would know me. Well, by that time, I knew about the PhD, so you can probably see where this is going. I knew that when people had to call me Doctor, they would respect me. Doctor La___. It sounded good. People would know me, people would respect me. So I went to graduate school and I worked on my doc. I was well known in my classes. I worked on interesting and exciting research that led me to my current career. I am a leader in my field. And I tell people not to call me Doctor. I want them to call me Jim. It wasn't until my last semester of post-graduate work that I realized it. People didn't respect me because of my degrees; they respected me because of who I was and what I did. I had been treated the same since high school. People had always known my name, I had always received choice assignments at work, I was always greeted with friendly smiles and genuine enthusiasm when I traveled to see old acquaintances. And none of it had to do with my degrees. The moral of the story: If you rely on titles and public accolades to feel big, more than likely you spend too much time making yourself feel small.