I don’t actually love art. It is a mere coincidence why I out of the blue liked art. In fact, I hated art, I even cursed it once. But then first impressions doesn’t always last. There is this something and someone who changed my perspective in art.
When I was in high school, I had no choice but to take Drafting as my elective. At first it was fine. We draw and design a lot of things like lines, letters, logos, etc. I had a very nice teacher. She is appreciative to our works, except my handwriting though, I have a really repulsive handwriting. I had high grades on my plates and score high in my exams.
In the middle of the year, a we had a new drafting teacher, a small thin woman who was very intimidating at first. I liked how she teach, how she critics and how she approach us. She is not that nice but she is kind deep within. But in her class, we started painting our plates, which made me feel like I’m dying every time we had a plate. I always mess my plates up, it’s either I poke a hole to my paper because of too much repaint or I mess it up due to my clumsiness. My grade in plates was not as high as before but my exams are good because she explains the lesson very well.
I finished my first year in drafting victoriously because I had fair grades, not too high, not too low. But when I took drafting the 2nd time, as a second year, I switched to Food Technology to catch my grade from falling into a failure. My drafting experience when I was in second year was hell. I had critically low grades because of my stupidity, laziness, uncreativeness, and disgusting handwriting. I swore never to go back in his class again
So as expected, it happened, I was in third year and I, again, has no other choice but to take drafting classes with a perverted chubby adult teacher who gives extremely low grades. He always tell green jokes to the class, which was dominated by perverted boys which came from other sections. I have no idea how can I pass his subject. I feel like he has a grudge on me because of my critically low grades on every plate I drew.
So I sat with a girl named Cky. I was as devastated as she is. We call our drafting room hell because of the heat felt inside and lots of devils around you. And the worst thing is satan is in the middle of the class sitting in front and making us suffer for an entire year. And history repeats itself, I had 15 as my final grade in the first grading, and, yeah, it was mostly my fault because I hated his subject, and him, and my classmates so I just sit in the class and cool myself. In second grading I tried my best to pass but my plates aren’t scoring much. I was really frustrated back then.
I am the weakest link in that class. I was always teased. Our teacher even made a rule that a student who is in the brink of failing, can pass if they have higher grades than I did. I lost every hope I had back then. Good thing my friends, Cky and CJ, are always there to back me up. So I tried my best to pass the third and fourth grading period. I passed thanks to our student teacher who helped me pass my plates, which he appreciated; and he also thinks I’m right about my teacher having a grudge on me, because I am the only one who scores low on plates even if I did it correctly. Because of him, and my friends, I had hope. Now here I am, studying college. I am really thankful, but those years wasn’t a waste. I learned a lot of things in drafting, although I didn’t actually scored high in my plates.
So here’s my conclusion, first impressions doesn’t always last. It is sometimes incorrect when you start knowing deeply about something. Just like the common misconception and perception about lefties. They always say that lefties are creative, I wonder what happened to me.