Young Voice
Student I.D. Number fiasco
I don't go looking for trouble, trouble usually finds me. Frankly, I encounter trouble in my everyday life. It is evident even during my first few meetings on my college subjects. However, I never welcome trouble and I never wished to be in the limelight because of trouble.
On our first meeting in our Humanities class I heard my professor calling my name out loud. I thought I would be asked to give an overview of what our subject is, but I was wrong. He called me out because I had a problem with my Student I.D. Number--it was similar with that of my classmate's. Right there and then, seeing myself standing in the middle of the class, getting stares and presumed whispers, I knew that once again trouble found a way to my domain.
The experience was humiliating and ego bursting. A college student who graduated high school as Valedictorian would miss out and incorrectly fill in her Student I.D. Number. Ouch, it was indeed a deep cut. All the while I thought the last digit of my Student I.D. Number was 9. After class I immediately proceeded to the registrar's office to verify my Student I.D. Number. I scanned through the student information and evidently saw what I was expecting, I have erroneously written the last digit of my Student I.D. Number as 9 when in fact it was 6! A big sorry goes to my unfortunate classmate who suffered the quarter of humiliation I got for my petty mistake.
During our next Humanities meeting I entered our classroom and faced our professor. I presented to him my class card with a darkened correction at the last digit. My professor looked at me and said nothing but smiled. I was plain and dull at that moment but as I went back to my seat I was smiling, trying to regain my self esteem and confidence. Humanities is all about art and through our initial lessons, I've learned that art is made by human and it isn't perfect. Now I know why art seems so perfect for art viewers, it's because within its imperfections you see its beauty and a promising improvement and revitalization.
What I had experienced, was not embarrassment in the first place, nor was it a humiliating situation. It was so, because I made to think it to be so. Right now, I only recognize it as a reassurance of my form of being human and imperfect. Before, I see myself as being unlucky all the time. Now, I see myself considerably opportune, learning from troubles and my mistakes would clearly define me as a person. As the cliché goes, "It doesn't matter how many times you fell, but how many times you stood up from those falls."
As I type along these words to make a portrait of words, I committed a lot of errors, but who gives a heck, these errors made me think of better words to harmonize to make this article worth reading.
Don't fuss about mistakes. They are part of our being human. Fuss if you think you are not human. Okay?
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