Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Bureau
There is an e-mail lingering in my inbox from one of my former college instructors.
My college days are best summed up as a brief sprint through personal growth. I moved out on my own when I was nearly 20. At that point, I'd never really tried smoking grass, had never had a girlfriend, had never even been kissed. In my first few months, all of this changed. At the time, I couldn't appreciate the affect that it was having on my life because I was so eager to be a different person. So eager to change.
The course I took in college was much too easy for me to excel in. Without trying, I achieved consistently high grades. And so in the second semester, I stopped trying altogether. I skipped a lot of class, stopped doing all but the large projects, and coasted through. But before the final project was announced, I found that my calculations were incorrect. I had a failing grade.
I went to the department head one afternoon, a charming and eloquent old Scotsman named Mr Bureau, and discussed my grade. He must have recognized my potential, because he gave me an extra assignment to bring my average up. I did this assignment with the diligence of the first semester, passed the course, and on the last day of class, I'll always remember what he'd written on the assignment when it was returned to me.
It read, in part, "you have everything you need to be successful."
Clearly this has always stuck with me, only brought to sudden memory now that I've heard of his passing. Thank you, sir. ¶ 9:41 AM
My college days are best summed up as a brief sprint through personal growth. I moved out on my own when I was nearly 20. At that point, I'd never really tried smoking grass, had never had a girlfriend, had never even been kissed. In my first few months, all of this changed. At the time, I couldn't appreciate the affect that it was having on my life because I was so eager to be a different person. So eager to change.
The course I took in college was much too easy for me to excel in. Without trying, I achieved consistently high grades. And so in the second semester, I stopped trying altogether. I skipped a lot of class, stopped doing all but the large projects, and coasted through. But before the final project was announced, I found that my calculations were incorrect. I had a failing grade.
I went to the department head one afternoon, a charming and eloquent old Scotsman named Mr Bureau, and discussed my grade. He must have recognized my potential, because he gave me an extra assignment to bring my average up. I did this assignment with the diligence of the first semester, passed the course, and on the last day of class, I'll always remember what he'd written on the assignment when it was returned to me.
It read, in part, "you have everything you need to be successful."
Clearly this has always stuck with me, only brought to sudden memory now that I've heard of his passing. Thank you, sir. ¶ 9:41 AM
