Something Bad Happened In My Life

Two weeks ago, I met my professor to learn about my grade in his class. As I expected, I failed his class, which turned out to be one of the worst things that ever happened in my life. It stopped my graduation the following week. I was supposed to be in line at the commencement ceremony, but I stayed back since I could not graduate this summer. I blamed myself for the whole week because I could not graduate on time as planned. I used to blame others but who else but myself to blame on? I didn’t pay enough attention in class, I didn’t do all the work in class, I didn’t take that class seriously. That was the result of everything. When my professor said I failed his class, the world collided with me. Yes, I had expected that I would fail the class. However, I still had a tiny hope that I might have a chance to pass that class.

I supposed to post this photo on my social media but I guess not.

I had prepared for the commencement day by taking photos of myself in cap and gown, planning on what restaurant we should go to after the ceremony, and what to do after I got out of college. Well, I had to put all of those plans in a jar and store it in a cupboard. I will take that class again in the fall semester. I still want to have the B.A degree to be a journalist. But before I decided to continue in the next semester, I had a terrible decision that I would like to tell you today.

As I said, the whole world collided before me right after receiving the news. My professor was the most amazing professor that I had ever met in my life. I must say it was a great honor to be his student. He understood that I was disappointed so he tried to console me. He told me that there was nothing to worry about and that taking that class again in the next semester would help me gain more experience.

I felt a little bit motivated. But right after leaving his office, I was sad again. I lost hope in myself. It was a dark color in front of me that I couldn’t see straight. I was in a deep depression for the whole week. I didn’t mind eating, doing anything else, and living. I wanted to give up. I didn’t want to go to school anymore and considered it as the end of my education. On the commencement day, I watched my friends walking on stage and being honored, and my heart was shattered into a million pieces. I thought that I would have been on that stage, too and I would have received a B.A degree in my hands later. But it was too late for that. I returned to my room and looked at the cap and gown in my closet. I was like sinking into the black hole of life that I could not be able to get back up again. I thought I could have the winning in my hands but I lost it after all.

A few days later, I was lying in bed and scrolling through Facebook. I watched this video which changed my point of view immediately. It featured a woman in her 70s, walking on the stage and receiving her degree. I kept rewatching that video and began to cry. I felt emotional because I admired that lady so much. She had her college degree, after all, at this age. I looked at myself. I was only in my 20s and yet because of a failed class, I wanted to give up. She was in her 70s. She had been through so many bittersweet things in life and she still went back to school and got her college degree after all. That was incredible. I felt so weak and pathetic. It was the moment I decided to move on. My mom said that many people out there failed classes more than me, yet they still retook those and passed. I only failed one class, which was not a big deal and was not the end of the world. My passion is to be a journalist, and in order to be a journalist, the first thing I must do is have a college degree. I may have experience through every story I wrote but without a college degree, no newspaper will want to hire me.

I decided to go back to school in this fall semester. I will do it again. That was my first failure, and I must turn it into a lesson and a motivation to continue with my chosen path. A failure always helps us to grow up if we know how to stand up after each failure. That is what I think. So right now, I feel better after a week of recovering. Of course, I still feel a little painful and sad. But it will disappear soon. Thank you for reading.