I might have lost it in Physical Growth and Motor Development today if things didn’t start turning around. It’s only Tuesday and I need this week to be over.
Those of you following me on twitter may recall the week prior to reading week I had three exams in twenty-eight hours. I started studying early, because the pressure was on. Lead-up to exams was stressful, not to mention I arrived at my Program Planning in Sport exam with mere minutes to spare after missing my bus and my mom coming to pick me up and the whole relaxation-exercise-in-the-car thing. I took all of the allotted time, and thought it went okay. Principles of Coaching was much the same, though I left pissed off that 15~ marks were riding on my knowledge of very specific terminology and hierarchically outlined structure of the ethical decisions in sport because I had spent more time reviewing glycolysis and energy systems. The afternoon pretty immediately following Program Planning I had Physical Growth and Motor Development, which people terrified my friend and I about. That the exam was hard and the final harder. That if we didn’t word things perfectly, we wouldn’t get the marks.
Yesterday, I received the 52% on my Principles of Coaching midterm. With a 75% on my research proposal, a research paper, and a final exam left, I am not too concerned — I have made similar comebacks in Intro Kinesiology with a worse midterm grade. This morning I found out I got 59% on my Program Planning in Sport exam.
And this pushed me over the edge. I handed my exam back in, and went to my mom’s office, which I left blinking back tears that I finally let go once I was leaning against the locked metal stall in the main floor bathroom.
You can’t spell degree without a D [there is the humour for the post, which I am not feeling, by the way]. This scares me. I am literally kissing any chance of getting into occupational therapy school goodbye each time I fail something since my GPA is currently too low regardless. [Note: I haven’t even failed anything yet and because I am getting D’s I am already in the failing mentality]. It’s not good enough, not good enough for a LOT of Master’s programs.
Unlike a lot of schools internationally, there’s no chance for exam rewrites. I know I still have a year-plus left, but the courses are not getting easier. The applied health courses I am actually good at are behind me, and I am facing the very harsh reality of not getting my GPA high enough to do what I want to, not to mention that the school I was seriously contemplating has for the last five years only admitted students with an A- average for the last year of undergrad.
Ironically, I am doing worse in the first and second year courses I am in than in the third year ones. Last term in my third-year courses I got A-s, and a B in second-year Issues in Sport. To hold true, in contrast to the first-year Principles of Coaching and the second-year Program Planning in Sport, in the still second-year but as ranked harder by people I’ve met class? That would be a 78% on my Physical Growth and Motor Development test. (Which essentially saved me from just quitting school this afternoon after an afternoon of altercation with a group member for another class, the assignment of another group project in Motor Development, and all of the above ridiculousness.) The voluntary withdrawal date is tomorrow, which means if I am getting out of Program Planning I have to make that decision fast or it is a done deal and is on my transcript forever.
I’ve always cared about school, but I’ve never simultaneously loved it so much and so much felt like I wasn’t able to handle it. Like there is too much going on academically, like I can’t pay attention well enough to all of the details, like I am doing too much because I want to do it all . . . like I am not good enough. Like I am trying my hardest and that isn’t good enough either. In such a short period of time, I have never been so let down by so much stuff going on at school.
My friend Bobbi-Jo and I had a nice heart-to-heart outside the athletic centre today. Where we tried to let it go following class as I shivered. Where we talked, laughed through the shit, hugged it out, and opened our hands towards the sky.
I’m still trying. Trying to decide what I am going to do.
Still trying to let go of the letdown.