"I Ain't Here to Save Anyone" - CC Ryder

After reading Leena's blog, I, too, felt as though I should share some stuff about myself - namely my academic history. It's a rough one, and it's not one I'm too particularly proud of - although in some strange way I do feel as though I kind of pulled a miracle out of my ass, and that's pretty cool - however, it's what made me who I am today. So sit back, grab a glass of whiskey, and good luck reading this.

            In junior high and high school, I was in the International Baccalaureate Program. Even in those days, I was a little shit head. I never did my work because I knew I could do the bare minimum and get a passing grade in the course. In fact, when I was in seventh grade, I didn't turn in a single assignment. Sure, I would do parts, but once they started to bore me, they would find themselves scrunched up inside the back of my desk or lost somewhere in a folder. At the end of the semester, progress reports would be sent home, and every time I would get the "in danger of failing" notice from all of my classes.

            Needless to say, especially for those of you who have met my mother, my mom would lose her shit. I seriously don't know how I survived six years of this process. Anyways, I would get yelled at, my mom would call all of my teachers, and all of them would let me turn in everything for partial credit. So, I smoothed out all the crumpled papers and finish what I had - maybe, sometimes, not really? - started and turned in a massive folder of all my work on the last day possible. After the tome of papers were graded, my F would magically turn into a C+ or a B (usually a B, though, because I had "potential")

            The funny thing about this is that it made my mom furious. Time after time my teachers would say, "Andrew is the smartest kid in the class, but he just needs some motivation," or, "Andrew is brilliant, but he's not a great student."

            Fuck.

            There it was, folks. I was rewarded even when I didn't do anything. After all, I was the "smartest kid in the class." Why should I do my work if I already knew all the material? Well, even now, after all that's happened in my life, I still don't really see the point of it; and, when I really think about it, it's the praise of bad students and the fear to say anything about said students which gives them a subconscious license to slack off and become apathetic.

            So I guess that's where it began. Funny, I never really realized that until just now. It's time to move on, though. High school is where this apathy was perpetuated. All of the IB classes were a joke, as were the few AP classes I took; and as the progress reports came in and the phone calls went out, I was only reassured that I was the smartest kid in the class. IB English, IB Physics, AP US History? You name it, I was good at it, and everyone knew it.

            After four years of what should have been a 2.0, but what ended up being a miraculous 3.4 - I know, not the best, but sure as hell better than a 2.0 and amazing for never having done a page of homework - I took my diploma and marched off to Cal Poly where I studied Aerospace Engineering. Well…that's using "study" a bit flippantly.

            Three years of my teachers, again, failing to give me what I needed, I found myself at rock bottom with a 1.8 GPA, all the while being on academic probation (which goes without saying). Sure, I had some great professors, especially Mr. Le, who taught English (I got a low C in that class), but it was still too easy. Then I took a class with Dr. Moss.

            One could say Dr. Moss saved my life. I was a quarter away from being kicked out of Cal Poly when I first took a class with him. He was the first person who ever told me that not trying wasn’t going to cut it. He was the first person who helped me realize that I was worth more than I was putting out. He helped me see that I could do so much, but that I was choosing not to. Dr. Moss helped me see in myself what I didn't want to. Inside of me was a brilliant student who could accomplish anything, but in order to do so, would have to work for it. Since then I have held a 3.5 GPA, gone to conferences, taught English in China twice, published poetry and fiction in magazines, and started my own.

            So what's the moral here? Well, it's not too simple, really; however, I do think there is one lesson to be learned. If you are a student who has the potential to do great things - and trust me, many people have the ability to do so, but choose to ignore it - fucking man up and do what you need to do. I'll say what's been said before: if you act like I did all those years ago, you're a fucking moron. I was a fucking moron.

            Now I know what you're thinking. You're wondering about Dr. Moss. I'll tell you this about Dr. Moss. He did not save me. He did not try to save me. Dr. Moss did one thing for me, and one thing only. He helped me see what I didn't want to see, and the only reason he was able to do so was because I allowed him to help me. If I had gone on my merry way and continued to fuck up after Moss's class, it would not have been his fault. No one can save you, folks, and no one is trying to. Anyone who says otherwise is a romantic. So don't be an idiot. If you're drowning, start to fucking swim.

JF