Stories of The Semester: Engl12 - English Literature

My passion - well, ardent interest - in literature is one of the reasons I took up English a a course. As a writer, I believe that my knowledge on literature helps me with my craft. I also figure that if I ever end up in the field of education I would educate people with literature. So it's pretty obvious that this is the subject I really cared about. It's the subject I wanted to be the best at. I read most, if not all, the reading assignments; I worked my ass off when it came to group reports as well.

While my prelim and midterm grades were both below my expectations, I didn't let that fact get to me. Even if I didn't have the best marks in class, I didn't lament over it because I was having fun as I learned tons about English Literature (even English History). This semester I learned how to stop being a grade-conscious student. I just wanted to be happy because I was gaining knowledge. Even if the semester is over, I'm actually doing some reading of works of authors we didn't discuss during the fleeting time we had in class.  believe that's a good thing - me doing some reading on my own because I want to satisfy my hunger for learning... and wow, am I nerd!?

But I don't that the time I had in this class is comparable to a trip in Disneyland. I had my fair share of shortcomings, like the time I did a report on the Romantic Period. Prior to my report, I had a bumming day. Before the day of my report I disappointed the people at our college publication because I failed to show up at this important event. They were mad and disappointed at me, and so was I. I was mad and disappointed at myself for the way things turned out. So I was out of my element during the next day - somber mood and a tough time concentrating on what needs my attention.

I ended up lacking information in my report. It was short and as mediocre as Kristen Stewart's acting in the Twilight movies. (Hold your fire. I like K-Stew... not just as Bella. I do despise Twilight, though.) When my classmates or instructor would ask a question, I would give dull, almost incoherent answers. I seriously was on the verge of tears, with the dead air and the look on my instructor's face (she almost looked as if she just wanted to shoot me for looking like a dumbass). As I stood in front of everyone, I waited for a black hole to eat me up. But that didn't happen so I just had to take in the humiliation. I, a supposed 'best' in class, stood there like a blundering idiot. The only thing to do was to just let it be.

After that day I just simply kept moving forward and not let what happened mess with my mind. I kept intact my interest in the subject and my goals in front of me. That's the thing about life - even if you trip and fall or slip and land on your behind, you always have to get back up. 

True grace is not avoiding the fall, it's getting back up after the fall.