As explained by the Graphic Design grading standards of my school, when you get a B you are producing exceptional work. You are showing tremendous creativity and your application of design principles are above and beyond the call of duty. You are...phenomenal.
When you get an A? The clouds part and angels sing. A great light shines down upon your project and the world seems to be a better place. Instructors weep and your classmates feel inadequate. When you get an A you are destined for greatness. You are...a design God.
I was one such design God...until yesterday. I got online for about the 50th time to see if my last grade had been posted. So far I had three more A's to put in my pocket and was waiting for just one more. The one, mind you, that I was most worried about. The one from an instructor that is scattered, disorganized, and harsh. We got along fine on a personal level, but I knew during the first class that this could be my downfall. She was never involved in the critiques so the only feedback you got was from your classmates. She rarely answered questions regarding what she thought of something when you had the chance to pull her aside. When you turned in your project you were going in blind. There was no real prior feedback to hold your hand while you waited for your grade. I made my way through the many levels required to get to the page that would show my grades. There, tainting all my pretty little, streamlined A's was a letter foreign to me. My grade? Was a B.
B? I'm not a B kind of girl if you're new to this blog. I'm a 4.0 with no room for exceptions kind of girl. I'm a perfectionist. A perfectionist verging on O.C.D. when it comes to school. I pay attention to details that others don't think about. I tweek and perfect and then tweek again until perfect is no longer an adequate descriptor. I don't miss class. I'm not late. I am the girl that others come to for an opinion on their work. I was proud of my A's and held my head high in those classes. Now, when I see this particular instructor I will be looking at the floor and avoiding eye contact. Not because I'm ashamed, but because I might attack. I might take a T-square to her knees Tanya Harding style and do things with an Xacto knife that would make prisonyard stabbings look like foreplay. I got a B!
What's worse? I wouldn't even give myself anything better when it comes to weightloss 101. I weigh less than when the term started and only gained once throughout it all, but I should have done better. I could have done better. I have excuses galore, but it doesn't matter. I should have done better. I have only lost 15.2 pounds in the last two and a half months. I'm capable of more. Maybe I am not the perfectionist that I thought I was. Maybe I am a B student.
When you get an A? The clouds part and angels sing. A great light shines down upon your project and the world seems to be a better place. Instructors weep and your classmates feel inadequate. When you get an A you are destined for greatness. You are...a design God.
I was one such design God...until yesterday. I got online for about the 50th time to see if my last grade had been posted. So far I had three more A's to put in my pocket and was waiting for just one more. The one, mind you, that I was most worried about. The one from an instructor that is scattered, disorganized, and harsh. We got along fine on a personal level, but I knew during the first class that this could be my downfall. She was never involved in the critiques so the only feedback you got was from your classmates. She rarely answered questions regarding what she thought of something when you had the chance to pull her aside. When you turned in your project you were going in blind. There was no real prior feedback to hold your hand while you waited for your grade. I made my way through the many levels required to get to the page that would show my grades. There, tainting all my pretty little, streamlined A's was a letter foreign to me. My grade? Was a B.
B? I'm not a B kind of girl if you're new to this blog. I'm a 4.0 with no room for exceptions kind of girl. I'm a perfectionist. A perfectionist verging on O.C.D. when it comes to school. I pay attention to details that others don't think about. I tweek and perfect and then tweek again until perfect is no longer an adequate descriptor. I don't miss class. I'm not late. I am the girl that others come to for an opinion on their work. I was proud of my A's and held my head high in those classes. Now, when I see this particular instructor I will be looking at the floor and avoiding eye contact. Not because I'm ashamed, but because I might attack. I might take a T-square to her knees Tanya Harding style and do things with an Xacto knife that would make prisonyard stabbings look like foreplay. I got a B!
What's worse? I wouldn't even give myself anything better when it comes to weightloss 101. I weigh less than when the term started and only gained once throughout it all, but I should have done better. I could have done better. I have excuses galore, but it doesn't matter. I should have done better. I have only lost 15.2 pounds in the last two and a half months. I'm capable of more. Maybe I am not the perfectionist that I thought I was. Maybe I am a B student.
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1 comment:
that shit sucks but it doesn't change the type of student you are or the quality of your work
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