Dear Student who has not done enough legwork this semester and panicked at the last moment:

This is not your writing. Believe me, I know what you sound like in words put on paper, and this, my dear, is not you. I have read the things you wrote, and have a good idea about how much of your time with me has been spent actually working with and on the things I’ve asked you to do. I have a body of work from you that shows those who care to see or are allowed to look exactly what you sound like, and parts of how you think. I’ve gained familiarity, I’ve seen your improvements, and you must have been worried, panicked even, to try and pass this off as you.

This piece of writing sounds like an adult. But I’m pretty good at what I do – tone, voice, inflection, connotation – so it’s not just that. This piece of writing sounds like an adult who is trying to create the writing they think a teenager would create; ideas a teenager would voice, in the way they would voice them. It reminds me of times I’ve been underestimated.

When I was a hairdresser, I’d occasionally have conversations in which people would edit themselves. It’s like they’d think I wouldn’t understand them at this level of apparent complexity. It was rare, but when it happened, it generally came with a bit of look. And then I’d feel small. This piece of writing shows me a person who has underestimated the complexity of the question, and is unaware of the requirements of the task. They are simplifying, reductionist, and, as a result, vague. They are descriptive instead of purposeful, supported, or forward-thinking. They have underestimated what the person they’re writing for would connect, and overestimated their spelling and grammar.

In those moments, I’d only feel small for a moment. Then I’d remember what a good spy this would make me, and how funny and satisfying it could be if I decided it was worth it to clue these individuals in. I was disappointed reading this piece of “your” writing. It was dead in the water: lifeless because its creator did not have the context nor the history of how we arrived there. I felt sad that you gave up your voice, gave up on the challenge of writing through ideas in the difficult but effective ways we work towards doing, just gave up. If, as they say, “the way you do anything is the way you do everything”, is this you?

Do you scare so easily?

The idea that I had, perhaps, in some way failed you, crossed my mind. But then I remembered where you are in your personal, experiential, and educational journeys. The reality is, you are still just starting out. This is an important point – a cliff to jump off of, and see if your wings have come in. You will have so many opportunities to make this choice again, but at each opportunity the decision will become more costly. Plagiarism in high school is much cheaper than plagiarism in University. Cheating now is perhaps limited to a few momentary gut wrenching regrets, instead of a lifetime of that feeling living in your stomach. The thing is, you don’t necessarily know the price of these decisions as you make them. You are your habits, as the maxim I’ve quoted suggests. My other favourite universal paradox, the one that you’ve been staring at on the wall in the very front of my classroom, is:

“You are free to choose. But you are not free from the consequences of your choice.”

I put it there on purpose, and I’ve repeated it often – I’m hoping it has been burned into your minds after our weeks together. We didn’t start with the idea of integrity by accident. You are, right now, setting the tone for your life. If no one else has told you that you are responsible for each choice you make, I’m telling you now. For better or for worse, you will make decisions every day and once in a while that will lead you through your years to come, however many of these you may be so fortunate to have. Don’t make habits now that you will later regret. Giving your voice away. Letting someone else do the legwork, which is only easier at the time; you will wish you had done that work when a time comes that you need those skills and abilities. The time will come – I promise. So choose purposefully, choose wisely, choose impulsively, if you have trained your gut to steer you right in the first place. Save yourself the heartache of becoming a person who isn’t satisfied with their life, but doesn’t know how they got there. Figure out how to make choices you can live with, choices you want to be known by and for – you are the one who has to live through them.

Best of luck 30-1 2017. I wish you happiness, but not only that. You won’t see the highs unless you also learn the lows. One last maxim to keep in mind – the lesson repeats as needed.