Hi, my name is Andrea Merkelbach. I wrote this out, wishing my professors knew what was going on with me. I wonder if other students feel the same as me. I was wondering if you thought it was interesting enough to publish. This is my realization of what it takes to be a successful college student.

To all of my professors that have ever had the privilege and often grief of knowing me, I wish I could actually send you this letter.

I want to tell you that all my life, through high school and community college, I have been that perfect, straight-A student with the occasional B. When I became a student at NIU, I had high hopes and an ego that was too big. I was overconfident and needed to be brought back down to earth. I’m glad you did that for me. At community college, my professors worshiped me.

They praised my papers and wrote me notes on how insightful I was. I came here and realized I know nothing. And here is where it matters. I started out in all of your classes as the one with the big smile, the one right in front where you could see me. I wanted you to see me, to notice how amazing I would be in your class. I’ve done it so many times. I talked to you, asked all the right questions and was never late for class.

I came every week and turned all my homework in on time. I studied and realized how hard your topics actually were. I tried and failed on your tests. I got some questions wrong. I got sick a few times, I didn’t know how to tell you. So I stopped going. You never saw me anymore. I didn’t turn in homework or that paper. I failed you, and most of all, I failed myself. I started thinking it was your fault, I wanted to be justified in my confusion. Why am I not special here? Why are you not praising my work? I didn’t see the reward in going to class, so I didn’t go. Now you are failing me. I get it. It is my fault. And I realized that, for this time only, it’s OK. I needed to know the harsh reality of failure.

You taught me a valuable lesson. You showed me that in order to deserve a degree, I have to work like I’ve never worked before. I have to cry sometimes over a paper because it stretches my brain so much. I have to say ‘no’ sometimes to a movie and ‘yes’ to reading that chapter.

I know this is basic college smarts 101, but it really catches students by surprise and out of nowhere. Somewhere along the way, we’re not doing so well as we thought. Some, like me, take it too hard and sink into a school-related depression.

I am paying the price of my actions along the way. I realized that if I allow myself to skip one class, I will eventually skip them all. That’s what happened to me. I don’t deserve a break. I chose this path.

I’m a college student, and we work harder than most people do. This is what goes through my mind as I look at you with sadness or can’t meet your gaze at all as you wonder what happened to the girl with the big smile who sat in the front seat soaking up your attention. I’m sorry you had to see me go through that.

You are an amazing teacher and deserve to have hard-working students. But you taught me the most valuable lesson I could have learned here, and I am taking a vow this moment that this is the last semester I fail you and myself.

I don’t know what I want anymore, but I do know that I’ll be okay if I stay loyal to your side, go to your every class, talk to you, befriend you, allow you to walk me through it. I will begin to trust that you can do that for me.

We will work together to make my dream come true and fulfill yours as a successful teacher.

Thank you for showing me what failure tastes like. I’ve never known it before, and I taste a

challenge. I will adjust myself accordingly. I am grateful I learned this now instead of later. I still have a chance, and though you will not read this letter, though you see me and think “failure,” I will prove you wrong.

Andrea Merkelbach

sophomore nutritional science major