The Gift of Merci

Chapter 10 - When Grades Mean Nothing and Everything

"Give me an idea for a story," I asked my brother. "I'm stumped."

"How about grades?" he rallied back.

"What? Grades?" I was confused. I had just spent the afternoon in parent-teacher conferences at his high school. "I'm not going to write about your grades!"

"No, no. What do you think about grades?"

I regret having asked for his suggestion because grades are a really sore subject for me. It didn't use to be that way, however. As a kid, I thought grades were the alpha and omega of life. And I was a really good student, with the grades to back up that statement. But guess what? Since the day I graduated from junior high school, not one person has ever asked me about my grades. Zero. Zippo. Nada. So why is it that we (that's a collective "we" — as in our society) make such a stink about them?

The good grades I cherished as a kid were mostly a result of me knowing how to get good grades. I kept a very keen eye on my GPA. I was the master of last-minute studying. And I could stuff a boatload of facts and data into my brain and hold it there for a good 24 hours. Just long enough to ace one more test. The problem with that strategy was that by hour 25, my retention was beginning to turn to mush.

How stupid was that?

The story of grades becomes the backdrop of my life, an ever-repeating theme that feels like a relentless wave crashing over me. Perhaps it's the time to redefine my priorities and seek a different purpose beyond mere lettered evaluations. In the midst of this turmoil, I find solace in the written word. My refuge lies in the pages of my journal, where emotions flow freely, unbound by the constraints of grades and judgments. Through writing, I can release the pent-up frustrations, the hidden fears, and the yearning for validation that weigh heavily on my heart.

I've been told a lot of times. I've heard enough phrases telling me not to dwell too much because well, they're just vague pieces. I've read a lot of write-ups that somehow sit with me and watch me break down in a snap and I feel like they're made for me. I've listened to songs that are supposed to be cheerful and mood-lifting. I've watched videos that they say would make me laugh so I could forget things for a while. I've talked to people I love, hoping I could get a taste of comfort and some warm embrace. I've tried to be everyone's sunshine. I've tried ways I could do to stay sane and run away from their judgments. I've offered an umbrella to someone when it's raining. I've poured another shot of booze to hear someone's rants. I've distracted myself to ignore that calling again. Something that tells me to stop. The one at the deepest part of me. The one that's lightless and voiceless. And words aren't found. Pages are crumpled. Memories are terrifying. Just another sudden switch. Just another fall.

And every time I do things, or I hear stories, or I hear anyone's screams just by looking at their eyes, or I feel someone's emotions dying to be spilled and heard - words just come to me.
Emotions become too heavy wanting to be my ink. Yet, even as I pour my soul onto the blank pages, I am reminded of the irony that surrounds me. In a society that places so much emphasis on academic achievements, where does the value lie in the art of expression and storytelling? How do we measure the worth of words, and emotions bared and shared?

I stopped.

Next week will be our 1st examination. I have to do everything to top my class. I can't break down. No, not today.

I know these upcoming restless nights will be worth it. I have to program my brain to study. And I have to. Even if I don't want to get stressed. I started writing down notes and grinding for long hours. I guess, today, we'll have to say: "I am a warrior, and I am well deserved."

Let that gaping hole in your chest be a reminder that you will not have everything that you want in life and maybe that's okay.

The storm of expectations may rage on, but within me, a tiny spark of defiance ignites. I will learn to navigate through the rough waters and seek my own path, unburdened by the weight of others' judgments.

I hope that one day, I will break free from the shackles of societal pressures and embrace the true essence of my being.

---

Throughout this past year, grades have become an imperfect measure of students' abilities, yet they've never held more significance.

The pandemic erased the possibility of many college entrance exams, including the renowned University of the Philippines College Admission Test (UPCAT), leaving academic records as the sole criterion for student admissions. Shifting such exams online would have further disadvantaged students lacking proper internet access, perpetuating inequality. This placed immense weight on past academic performance, alleviating the pressure of entrance tests for some but becoming a disappointment for others relying on these exams to balance academic fluctuations.

The recent UP admission results stirred waves on social media, with thousands of students facing rejection. The reliance on grades particularly impacted schools with stricter grading, leading to a stark decline in the passage rates, even for government scholars from science high schools who expected entry into UP. Students connected their self-worth to these results, while others refused to let grades define them, recognizing learning extends beyond prestigious institutions.

In guiding students, we emphasize valuing learning over chasing top grades. I often refer to the Scoreboard Metaphor in therapy to distinguish between goals and values. Grades represent goals, while learning embodies true value. It's about playing the game, driven by values, rather than just aiming for a win handed to you.

Grades, however, fall short as a measure of learning. They're influenced by various factors beyond actual knowledge, including testing conditions, sleep, room environment, past experiences, anxiety levels, and even the grading system of the school. The pandemic added unprecedented stress to students, grappling with abrupt shifts in learning modalities.

Administrators recognized these challenges, implementing no-fail policies and other exceptional guidelines. Despite this, grades remained the primary factor in determining students' college futures. They may not always seem crucial until they suddenly are.