Waaaah I’m horrible for being gone for 2 months and absolutely ignoring this blog. It wasn’t so much as ignoring but finding it difficult to find the time to actually write. I’m not into personal posts such as these since I’m good at talking but not about myself but I suppose it would be good as this would be like flexing my muscles (or more specifically, my fingers) for my unplanned hiatus officially ends today! Which means I get to go back to reviews and critiques and essays! Yey!
But moving on. Last semester was challenging. And it was challenging in the sense that my patience, self worth, and motivation were all tested on a day-to-day basis, or at least, moreso than usual. I wonder if I ought to be proud of myself for the things that I accomplished last semester but when I look back on it, I feel only distaste and disappointment for both myself and the education system I’m under.
I was enrolled in 17 units last semester and although a majority of my classes had been core courses and majors of my beloved course, it was all lacking and dull for me. My classes held much promise in their course title and description but are frustratingly underwhelming when taught in the way that they were when I took the class.
I remember the semesters when I was drowning in school work and flunking grades but felt so happy to be enrolled in that class underneath inspiring professors who taught me so much more than what was expected of them. And I miss that feeling, of being challenged yet enjoying it because it’s done so wonderfully by such wonderful educators. Last semester was very, very trying. My professors were, without a doubt, respectable people. However, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps their time as great educators had passed and I had just not been able to bear witness to it.
Of course I, as a student, also poses a problem. I’m not a perfect student, in fact I am far from it, with moody anxiety and motivation spikes that far often make me into a really difficult student to teach. I acknowledge this and do try to work on it as much as I can. But it is difficult when your self worth goes down the drain while your anxiety hits the roof. Man, your motivation to keep going really struggles to keep itself afloat.
I had a professor that I admired and respected but it was difficult for me to meet her standards. I struggled to climb the seemingly impenetrable fortress that is her expectations, and because I constantly failed to do so I felt as if I knew nothing and that I was nothing. It’s not my first time crying over my insecurities concerning my academic performance but it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like nothing, sometimes even less than nothing. Week after week of not feeling motivated but afraid to speak and write every time I was humiliated in class. Though I know them to be abstract and incapable of feeling, it was as if my words were paralyzed. I was muted and my fingers too heavy to type out even my name.
Everything about me was contested, my intelligence, common sense, ability to write, think, feel. And to have that be done in a class I didn’t feel safe to speak out in, it was terrifying. I wish I could say I feel proud of myself for having survived that but to be quite honest, I don’t feel like I survived anything; I don’t feel as if I’ve gotten past anything. These doubts still resonate with me and my fingers are still heavier than they used to be. I miss the mojo or groove or whatever you call it that drove me. But hopefully, this, flexing my fingers, is the first step to standing up again.
Well, there. What a totally useless post! But I did have to get this off my chest in order to move forward. Well, onward and forward we go.