I still have my disagreements with my teacher’s statement, but I have discovered that just because an English teacher thinks something doesn’t mean it is true. It’s opinion. Nothing more, nothing less. I just got back from picking up my final paper from him; I had to since he hadn’t finished grading them until after classes were over. After the conversation I felt surprisingly better about the whole thing. He did, however, say exactly the same thing that made me angry the other day right when I walked in the door: “Clint! You’re very philosophical! Very deep! Perhaps too deep.” He then corrected himself by saying, “Well, you can never be too deep.” So I am uncertain as to whether he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing; maybe it just depends on the time of day, or the weather, I’m not sure. But something good that he told me was, “You are an excellent writer. Far, far advanced to what I am used to teaching at this level.” He said that not every teacher was like him, which caused a mini applause in me, and that my new teacher for English II is very… (He made a circle with his hands which, to me, meant that she was open-minded)
Earlier, before we did the final paper, he told us that hardly anyone gets close to the max score, which was 200. I was surprised to see that I got a 183.
While I was taking the class I hated it. I despised it and dreaded going in and sitting down. Most of my school related stress was due to that class. That is where I would always panic and sweat and feel like running for the door. It is probably the worst class I’ve ever taken but I think I learned the most in it. I learned very little subject matter, but what I learned about myself more than made up for it. I learned to trust my instincts instead of another’s, especially a professional’s. I am not saying that school has little to offer me, because that is astoundingly untrue, I am saying that what I’ve learned from this semester is more of an experience than textbook knowledge.
Walking out to my car after talking with him, I felt like I could really make this happen; those little moments of confidence are extremely rare, so rare I could probably count them out for you. And it wasn’t just the compliments he gave me, which certainly helps, I assure you, but it was the feeling that I was capable of more than other people; that I have a purpose that no one else shares with me. Every day I witness the differences between myself and the rest of the world. Today though, I feel like I could use that unique feeling to reach a place no one else can. Like I can stand tall, my head high, because I am nothing like them. Not better, but different in a good way. And that is good enough for me.
I think that sometimes when you hit bottom, it makes the view above that much greater.
