Grad letter to friends

[kyrasantae]

I gave copies of this letter to some of my friends at the graduation banquet.

To my friends:

So this is what the end feels like; did any of us expect it to be this way? Many of us must have imagined it as something more grandiose and melodramatic, but no less emotional. I know that I was one of them.

You might wonder why I write this, because I don’t know you as well as I wanted, and you probably don’t know me as well as you wanted. Yet after so many years of walking the halls in this institution called school, I feel somehow obligated to share the wisdom I have learned here (not of the academic variety—that’s called knowledge), and if any of this seems unusual or strange... cast it not aside without consideration.

I have never truly belonged to a single group of peers. It was like I knew people from many of them, but not all of the people from any. Nor had I all of the same interests as any group.

But I, like many of you who will receive this, was an IB student (where my use of the past tense has been longer in duration than many of you readers). That was one of the groups I belonged in. Sort of. Even so I was half-in, half-out, and while you felt the irritation of the homework load you had, you never seemed to mind the material. I was the other way around: I didn’t get burned out by homework this year (and understandably so), but I was so burned out by the material. Or rather, burned out from resisting the material.

It is the energy expended when knowing that the Antonuk is giving false information. It is the energy expended when knowing that she has broken a promise to me. It is the energy expended in upholding my set of ideals and beliefs in the face of the tyrantess who speaks with a different set and frowns on my ‘idealistic’ and ‘naïve’ one. It is the energy expended when staying up late at night just to make myself willing to be dishonest and use a false set of beliefs to do a minuscule DBA or essay. It is the energy expended to take out my anger and frustration at her on paper and imagination. It is the energy expended to plead for your understanding, and the energy expended to hold my rage back and not scream in pain, to not take her life or my own!

Yet few heard my pleas, and understood my tortured being, and there was nothing I could do, short of betraying myself and falling under her spell, to stop wasting my strength. And to betray my hard-learned beliefs was the last thing I would do.

Ultimately, that was what it all came down to: betrayal of myself. Not betrayal by submission, but betrayal of my own principle. It was overconfidence that made me think that I could run away from a class for a day without detection. It was my desperation that made me think that it was okay to do that at all. That she reacted so severely to the above and my crusade for fidelity was beyond my control, and that its effect resulted in what I had been pressing for since the very beginning. So do not think that desperation and stubbornness leads only to failure. They may lead to recklessness, as with me, but it does not always spell defeat, especially so in matters of the heart like this.

Though I still believe that I would have achieved that goal eventually anyway, according to her, thou shalt not ‘could have,’ would have,’ or ‘should have.’ But without the alternatives-searching of ‘could have,’ the speculation of ‘would have,’ and the conviction of ‘should have,’ we cannot learn from our past, and know how to act when a similar problem faces us again. And we will lose hope in the world as we keep on failing to solve the same problems over and over. It is idealism and optimism that gives us confidence in the future, rather than the realism (that she holds so dear) and pessimism that sows distrust and thus conflict. Being a realist is not a sign of maturity and wisdom. It is a sign that one has allowed the truth (I do not deny the negative attitudes towards the present) to mask hope instead of using it to foster hope. Hope can never be lost, or we will never attain our dreams. There will never be peace, and there will never be harmony without hope to carry us towards them.

It is somewhat unfortunate that I was punished for simply being true to myself, but we all have to know and remember not only to set limits for ourselves and stick to them, but to respect others’ limits too, because intruding on them will make them use their last straw to defend their limits, and oftentimes that will lead to losses on both sides. And I hope that she will one day understand that. In some ways that is the only reason why what happened, happened.

It was the clash of limits that drove us both to the ends of our patience. It was simply a matter of time before someone made the first move. She triggered my initiative to do so, but she cannot be blamed for taking action against me first. That trigger, which meant no harm, became the weapon of our undoing because she never heeded my earlier indications and concerns of my personal limits and kept on pushing her ideas on us without regard for our limitations.

I did not skip class because I wanted to spite her. It was a plea for attention, a last-ditch attempt to get the message to her after many other veiled or overt clues and bids for understanding had gone unheard. It is unfortunate that, although I am sure that there were many others who felt just as uncomfortable with the underlying ideas of the class, for most of us, the task of succeeding and achieving in class was more important than the duty to protect ourselves from hurt, as if it was alright to be converted to a belief not your own for the sake of a teacher's good favour.

We have such a double standard for this; on the one hand we are told to “always be yourself” and never give in to pressure, yet on the other we readily discard our beliefs and pretend to believe in something else so that we can pass an exam or get a good grade on an assignment. Isn't this the same hypocrisy that certain history teachers have frowned upon? Hypocrisy in personal values and restraints are no different than hypocrisy in political or social opinions.

Perhaps our tendency to be hypocritical is rooted in a fear of sacrifice: that without some great cause to sacrifice for, like the country for a soldier, we are unwilling to give up our good grades or other practical aspect that is of benefit to our future money-making potential, because we value money as essential to our survival. Then why does it seem that I consider the preservation of my unique beliefs a cause great enough to sacrifice for, as hypocritical as my ideas are in relation to each other, while others think little of this sort of righteousness?

Some of us probably still believe that all of this is just a lame excuse for what I have done, that I am refusing to take responsibility. But I am taking responsibility. The whole idea that I did it purposely to save myself was an afterthought. At the time that I made the decision, the very suggestion of skipping class at all was a joke. (Some of you might remember me pondering that question several times out loud on other occasions prior to that date.)

This is a little bit from the entry that I took to the regional speech tournament: “Sometimes we find ourselves in situations where the way out isn’t easy—be it because it takes time or because there are obstacles in the way, within yourself or without yourself. All of us have the freedom to do whatever it takes to defend ourselves from what hurts us, however not without paying a price. And the price that’s paid is what that must be resolved, not ignored, before we can move on—whether the risk we took was calculated or not, the consequences expected or not.” It was perhaps the subject matter that left my ranking very far down, since it wasn't on a social or political issue.

So much I am told that I have talent in art, in speech, in music, in writing, and so on, but I have never gotten anywhere with those talents. In this day, I think that it's all about looks and the skill-less, minimal effort stuff in the fine arts. We've lost touch with what art is, and art is what I strive to produce. Art requires not only skill but finesse, a sort of elegance that we have also lost. It's why when I ramble on to you about imagining killing people (it still happens these days), it's always with the old medieval ways, with swords and bows. I can't imagine myself using something so lifeless and utilitarian like firearms. (Sorry.) It's why I enjoy painting by hand 6”x4” enlargements of Survivor logos in painstaking detail for the heck of it, even though I haven't watched the show for years. It's why I don't participate in the self-defence drills during my martial arts practises. I guess that's just a part of me, part of my quest to become someone who values honour and seeks out archaic justice in the world, someone who simply would not and could not survive in today's soulless, mechanized society. An impossible quest, yes, but at least it's something to work toward. I wish more people were willing to reconsider their definition of beauty and art.

I know that inevitably, we will forget each other. That is not the most optimistic of thoughts, but it is the likely truth. Despite that, hold on to the bonds we have created here. Look at me here tonight already. I'm sitting here with a table of people that I hardly know, because I am already forgotten. Somehow I think that this loneliness will plague me for the rest of my life, since so far, I've only had one real lasting friend and even she, of course, can't be with me forever. Even though we may never meet again, a part of me will be left behind here.

I know also that my university life will be very difficult. Many of us have heard about how demanding the engineering program is, and very soon I think that we will begin to long to go back to our high school days. High school is that sort of thing we only get to experience once. As much as university offers a more free and independent lifestyle, it can be said that high school had its own kind of freedom too. But going back to my long-time dream to be a survivor, this will be my challenge—to survive this last bit of the school part of my life and move on to the work part.

Maybe you'll find me in Finland, married to a loving husband (and with children with five given names—one each in English, Dutch, Finnish, Malay, and Chinese, hee hee). Maybe you'll find me in a cardboard box by the side of a road, because I drank myself into poverty (that would be partly your fault, A.(S.)N.—the rest is mine—and incidentally, Finns have a cultural drinking problem—no wonder Aki Kaurismäki makes movies about impoverished people who all seem to drink too much). Maybe worse, you'll find me stuck in jail because I couldn't control myself. But either way, each of us must part ways to discover ourselves and chase our dreams.

I'd look for some phrase out of a Finnish song to put here at the end, but I don't think I'd find anything particularly appropriate, since Finnish music is often so depressing. Instead, I'll leave you with some recommended listening. It's all about the mood (and if I don't understand the words, it's about the music), and what words cannot express I can let you hear in music:

• Gustav Holst – Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity
  
• Albert Ketèlbey – In the Mystic Land of Egypt (especially the version with the singing chorus; this one's harder to find)
  
• Ralph Vaughn Williams – Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis (on the Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World soundtrack)
  
• Franz Schubert – Impromptu in G-Flat, Op.90, No.3
  
• Frederic Chopin – Nocturne in G, Op. 37, No.2 (especially the performance by Artur Rubinstein)
  
• Nick Cave – To Be By Your Side from Le Peuple Migrateur (Winged Migration)
  
• Russ Landau – Gold from Survivor TV show soundtrack
  
• James Horner – End Credits from Braveheart
  
• Diana Ross – If We Hold On Together from The Land Before Time
  
• Joe Hisaishi – Ashitaka Seikki (The Legend of Ashitaka) from Mononoke Hime (Princess Mononoke)
  
• Mark Isham – October Sky from October Sky (duh!)
  
• Sakari Kuosmanen – Kaihon Kultamaa
  
• Sakari Kuosmanen – Erotessa
  
• Yö – Karheaa ja Kaunista
  
• Volumia! – Hou me vast (A sappy love song. Yes I know, Barend.)
  

Looks like it's time for me to go. Good night and farewell, and may goodness guide you safely on your travels.

M------ L-- 劉美婷

June 4, 2004

Comments

Well, I read the letter.

[siromygod.livejournal.com]

I just wanna take a couple of minutes to express to u how I feel or what I think. But therein lies the problem, I'm not really quite sure how to go about doin that. So this may sound like a lot of rambling, but I'm doin my best.
I hold a lot of respect for you, always have, and probably always will. And after reading this, I understand a bit more, and I respect u a lot more. Sometimes I wish u were more like us white sheep, so that you wouldn't have to deal with all these hardships, and I wouldn't have to worry about u. But then I'm also glad that ur not a white sheep, since then I can look to u and say that it's alright to be black.
Ur right, after high school, we'll probably never see each other again, but u may be wrong about one thing, I will never forget u. I may forget ur name, and I may forget how u look, but I will remember one thing about u. And it won't be survivor girl. I'll remember u by the lesson that u taught me about life. And I'll remember u by the respect I feel for u. Inevitably tho, in the end the finer details of that lesson will fade. but the feeling of respect never will, for the person that made me think a little more. Because of u, I'm less of a white sheep and more like a blue sheep. Thank you.