The Toughest, yet the best year

                In every year, there have been new challenges that we face every now and then. Some might be easy, some might be tough, yet we still need to conquer them all. This year, our 3^rd year days, have not been an exception.

                Every now and then, we ask ourselves what we were doing. Sometimes, we don’t have a clue on what we should have done, or what we should never do but how could we learn and take a step forward if we would be hindered by different possibilities? By chances? How could we learn if we’re afraid to try? How could we improve if we would just sit back and don’t do anything? There’s no way around, and that’s what have been thought.

                Being spoon-fed by teachers is just like inability to move themselves. If us, students, couldn’t learn alone, then, we wouldn’t learn how to be better people that could help our society. Spoon-feeding is the total opposite of our classes, especially in English. They teach us, yet we learn ourselves. Even if they leave us, we know what to do.

              Everything has basically changed because of this year and this year’s teachers. It’s not that I wanted to compare them but you could definitely see the difference in diligence, generally.

                Before, English was just like a burden for me. It was some sort of additional projects, additional one hour of classes, since elementary. It’s not that I hated English, it’s just that I can’t find myself liking, nevertheless loving, the subject. But everything has changed right now.

                I have learned a lot of things, and most would be treasured. I have experienced a lot of hardships and surpassed them all. Most of the things were enjoyed, even though they should be worked hard for. This third year, especially English III, is one of the best, if not the best, is one of the best I’ve ever experienced.

                Memories would last forever and English III had given me a lot. Those speech activities that took the efforts of our group were so memorable. The jazz chant, the recital of the Passionate Shepherd to his Love and the Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd, the conventional speech choir and the individual recital of the oration, were all done. It took effort, but of course, all of those weren’t wasted.

                Memories would last and would be cherished forever, just like how English III, especially Ma’am May, would be in my heart. All the lessons taught, either intellectually, emotionally, or morally, would be kept inside my mind, and of course, my mind.