Trying to get a 0.0 GPA in a quarter/semester/year really is a worthy challenge. Much more difficult than you would think. I tried 3 separate times - closest I could get (without dropping from classes) was a 1.0.
I believe being spoiled by many of the finest computer, console, and arcade games of our time, as well as being a heavy book addict, made me bored of the "correct" way to play school at the rather early level of 2nd grade. So I started looking for ways to play the game to make it more fun.
In high school, hearing the words "wasted potential", were like a trophy to me. It showed the teacher respected my knowledge (which I obtained for my own pleasure and proved at will by getting random A+s), but frustratingly knew it was not a result of the system they were paid to run. The few really awesome teachers I had, did not get this treatment. I could sense their love for knowledge, either in the way they were actually passionate about the subject they taught, and/or the way they treated students with respect. For these extremely rare few, I was willing to pretend to play by the school rules out of mutual respect for the teacher, not the game.
Unsurprisingly, many of these truly awesome teachers were fired or forced to transfer schools. The highly competitive high school had too many parents complaining to the school board about their kids being given a B, and even tried to convince the teachers to erase records of cheating (they being honorable ambassadors of knowledge, of course refused). This was the final proof to me that the system was a joke.
"Wasted potential", I learned was a reference to the potential of the system to use you to perpetuate itself. It had nothing to do with your own potential future, which was always your own great responsibility (thank you Uncle Ben). I had 127 recorded absences in 12th grade. I still graduated, as I expected - the only thing more important to the school than student attendance, was public appearance.
In college, I thought that the "Native American Literature" course sounded interesting (note: I was majoring in Computer Science, and thought that the Native American Lit course was about Native American oral legends written down). Nope. It turned out to be "Modern Fiction Written by Authors Who can Claim Native American Heritage".
Only two tests---a midterm and a final. I took the midterm, and ended up with either a D or an F (I don't recall the exact grade, except it was not good). I showed up for the final, read the question, realized I had absolutely no desire to even bother answering the essay question; I got up and left the classroom.
I believe being spoiled by many of the finest computer, console, and arcade games of our time, as well as being a heavy book addict, made me bored of the "correct" way to play school at the rather early level of 2nd grade. So I started looking for ways to play the game to make it more fun.
In high school, hearing the words "wasted potential", were like a trophy to me. It showed the teacher respected my knowledge (which I obtained for my own pleasure and proved at will by getting random A+s), but frustratingly knew it was not a result of the system they were paid to run. The few really awesome teachers I had, did not get this treatment. I could sense their love for knowledge, either in the way they were actually passionate about the subject they taught, and/or the way they treated students with respect. For these extremely rare few, I was willing to pretend to play by the school rules out of mutual respect for the teacher, not the game.
Unsurprisingly, many of these truly awesome teachers were fired or forced to transfer schools. The highly competitive high school had too many parents complaining to the school board about their kids being given a B, and even tried to convince the teachers to erase records of cheating (they being honorable ambassadors of knowledge, of course refused). This was the final proof to me that the system was a joke.
"Wasted potential", I learned was a reference to the potential of the system to use you to perpetuate itself. It had nothing to do with your own potential future, which was always your own great responsibility (thank you Uncle Ben). I had 127 recorded absences in 12th grade. I still graduated, as I expected - the only thing more important to the school than student attendance, was public appearance.