I could’ve been graduating with honors. If not for that solitary 2.75 grade I received, I could’ve been marching down with a medal wrapped around my neck.
I was first year then. And a lost soul was I. I was still on that phase where having a firm conviction about one’s self if a rarity, where conforming begets acceptance, where being radical is kewl, where not being good is better.
I didn’t want to take school that seriously. For me, being GC (grade conscious) sounds cheesy. Having my high school motto, “Grades do not measure intelligence” encrusted upon my chest, I decided to live my college life in the most carefree manner as possible.
When Demand Exceeds Supply
I hated my Economics in college. It’s not the subject per se; the abhorrence emanates more from the professor than any other. She was old, batty, balding, and inconsiderate and a worshipper of the numbers 3 and 5. She will trample you with tons of requirements yet you barely understand what she teaches (if she does). She was so full of demands that my supply of patience went zero.
I put up a silent rebellion against her. I never recited. I slept in her class. I passed hastily done assignments. I cursed her every time her shadow crosses our room. I hated her. Then she gave me a 2. 75. I cursed her once more.
It took time before I realized what that grade means – adios Mr. cum laude. I know I could’ve done better than to rant about her. But I didn’t do it. Had I not blew my cool I wouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself. But heck, it’s time to move on now. I really wanted to say more about this but I guess I’ll just let it be this way.
Indeed, grades don’t always measure intelligence but they reflect one’s discipline.
[Mega thanks to Aneng for the inspiration for this post.]