An Open Letter to A

Dear Sir A,

I do not know where to begin or exactly how to say these things to you after the catastrophe which is my midterm exam. I’m thinking of whether I should even communicate anything humanly. However, I figured all I have to do is just write everything down. It’s like what David Wagoner said, “Only begin, and the rest will follow”.

When you stepped in class this morning and asked us what had happened, I knew you were trying your best to be optimistic, to help uplift our spirits. When you said you were very disappointed, that’s when a part of me shuddered. You were even uttering words like “where did I go wrong?” Many students in class got a low mark, but I knew I had failed the moment I finished taking the exam. You gave my paper, I saw my score. I felt like vomiting and fainting, but all I could do was sit there and listen to you as you gave kind words of encouragement.

Maybe I lacked focus? There is simply no excuse. Results show that my efforts were simply not enough. I am not proud of delivering such menial exam grade. I am embarrassed of the fact that although I studied, this is the only result I can muster. I didn’t just let you down; it’s dire enough that I let myself down. I wish I had done so much more. This isn’t easy to let go unlike old high school tests which I didn’t even try to pass in my rebellious youth. It made me question my abilities, my intellect. Am I even cut out to be in this program?

It occurred to me that this failure brings forth a relevant learning experience, one that I’ve constantly avoided all these years. This is the very thing I’m afraid of and it kept me from doing what I’m most passionate about.

Before being admitted in the MA program, I decided to forego unnecessary commitments to pursue writing. After 3 years of working, I’ve come to terms with the truth that I must exhaust every means possible in order to actualize this calling. Now that I’ve encountered this obstacle, though it frustrated me, it made me realize that I have a lot to be thankful for. It’s just part of my pursuit for Telos, it must be earned. I am merely being refined. Upon realizing that, I was able to let go of my fears. By it, I believe I am also able to change my destiny because now I can confront this head on without hesitation.

I remember the first question in the exam. It asked us about the sublime—I wasn’t able to answer that correctly. I only remembered the answer minutes after passing my paper. The sublime has the power to unite contradictions. On the other hand, I was able to answer the question about Arete: that the human person must possess philosophical virtue and moral or practical wisdom to attain goodness. I believe these teachings are now permanently etched in the core of my being. I aim to tread the Golden Mean, to be the sublime that unites all contradictions, and propagate goodness. One day, I hope to embody all these when I become a teacher, as well as a worthy writer.

I write this not in defense of my mediocre grade or to convince you to give me a higher mark. It has nothing to do with that at all. If anything, I want to be graded fairly. I only wish to receive a grade which I deserve.

Consider this a letter from a student to her teacher, assuring him that he did not fall short. You are one of the most remarkable and dedicated instructors I have ever come across in my life. I say this not to flatter you, but to let you know that I have realized and learned so much from your class (and we’re just half-way through the semester). You get through your students, sir. None of us emerge from CL 121 with the same pair of eyes. We see things as they are, more clearly now.

Hindi po kayo nagkulang.



Respectfully yours,

Corin