The idealist in me had planned 5 months ago that a change in ways, manners, principles and outlook must be enforced and achieved. However, the results showed otherwise. If ever I did change, which was definitely not the case, it wasn’t for the better. Unfortunately, it was for the worse.
For a semester deprived of dance trainings every night, I was supposed to be performing better in an entirely different arena—the academe. The decrease in the number of distractions and consequently, the time allotted for such distractions should have resulted to an increase in the improvement of my grades. Logically, that should have been the case, but reality turns out to be the complete opposite. I don’t have a boyfriend anymore to share idle time with, no dance training every night or performance to think about. I should have had more time for pursuing academic excellence—as what our professors continuously remind us to do.
The plans my ideal self planned to achieve was a failure. The realist in me failed to live up to the standards, simple because I lacked the discipline, the will, and the enthusiasm to do so. My grades were mediocre. I was a complete and utter failure.
I often find articles regarding how grades should not define a person, how learning has ceased to be an enjoyable experience due to the stress that running after excellence has been giving, how being in a school for achievers has made grades the yardstick of success, how we became victims by trading our enthusiasm to learn for an uno. I often applaud such articles, for the simple fact that I can see myself in those words. Knowing that several others approve of such articles and relate to the predicament these articles voice out was a breather. It was like pulling a huge thorn out of my heart.
I was not alone. Someone had the courage to write and voice out the situation that has inadvertently made me and several others see that we have become victims of the determination to maintain the cream of the crop status. A status that has forever been the light that we often find ourselves following and the light we enjoy immensely, despite its burning consequences, like a moth attracted to the light lamp, only to have its wings burned for being so near or aiming to be near, fascinated by the shine its light promises.
Being an emblem of excellence has promised us of a brighter future, one with success hanging unto every step we take and every word we say. Yet, how many college drop-outs and students with mediocre or failing grades had disproved that? Plenty out there, I’m sure. Somehow, this could be a suggestion that an absence of excellent grades in the transcript does not entirely equate failure, doesn’t it? Surely, there must be something else besides the grades, right?
Having such thoughts, however, does not make me feel better about myself. I was merely looking for an excuse for the lack of improvement on my part. I was desperately looking for an explanation that would remove the blame from me, and unto the system. I may be a victim of such circumstance, however, that does not justify that I should take these subjects carelessly, which I did. What a shame.
Somewhere along the years, I had ceased to enjoy learning just for the sake of learning, even for the things that I used to be interested in. I was a history enthusiast, a literature geek, and one who appreciated Science and all the wonders it offers. Yet, here I am, no longer able to read anything about History, of have the time to take a time for enjoying the Classics. Much worse, I have come to a point that I don’t want to learn anything about Science. Ironically, my course demanded me to love it, for I was a student studying Chemistry. The Queen of Science, they often say. Learning about her has been a very tough and rocky ride. I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve shedded tears over her, whether it was for a failing score on an exam, the extensive laboratory reports, or the failing grades.
I want another chance to prove to myself that I can be better than that. I often wonder why I couldn’t even appreciate the number of blessings and chances that have been knocking on my door. I’m not even sure if I had ever allowed those chances to get the most out of me or if I had ever appreciated and put to use the blessings that has been pouring in, waiting.
I may have told myself a number of times that I would change. I sincerely hope that this time, it’s not only about telling but doing.
The Rambling Philosopher 