I was hearing my father’s voice in the background while he was driving along the University Avenue. I could not clearly hear each word he was saying, but one thing I was sure of, was that he just kept on saying the same things to me. Of course, I would react in a “normal” way: like a grumpy child rolling her eyes with every statement I believed was useless for him to say. He clearly knew what he was saying to me, and he also clearly recognized how I would react to it. But I think those were just because, first: he was a professor, so he must be used to getting things reiterated to his students, and second: I was just his only child, and so I was the only one who was getting all the reproofs.
“April, I am starting to feel ashamed of what you are doing with your life. Can’t you see the importance of this on your future? Look, my friends at the faculty, I mean, your professors, are saying that you are really having terrible performance day by day. You are not complying with all your requirements and you always fail your exams. You know I still believe that you can do better than this, all you need to do is to strive harder.” my father said as he stopped the car and parked it on the AS Parking Lot.
Of course, I am complying with my requirements, though sometimes I really fail to submit some of them. I do not also always fail my exams. Actually, I am getting good grades on some. And he is really the only one who believes I can do better, because I myself can clearly see I cannot do better with Political Science.
I wanted him to hear these words from me. But I did not allow myself to do such because I knew our conversation would just get longer if I would not stop talking explaining my side, because it would not actually matter to him.
Hearing words like these was usually my morning ritual, inside the car, before going to my first class. My father’s statements like this had usually varying intensity, depending on how I performed during the past days, but I usually had just the same reaction about it. Strive harder. Prove yourself. All for your future. These were the common things he usually say to me.
I got off the car as I saw him giving me his final look through the rear view mirror. It was a look of disappointment, dissatisfaction, frustration and all other words synonymous to these. He also got off the car after me, but he walked first towards AS while I remained standing outside the car. I saw a usual setting, a jungle of challenges for me. It would not had been like this if I was just able to enter the university as a film major. It would not had been like this if he did just allow me to become one.
As a professor, he was a man of few words as known by his colleagues and students, but when it comes to me, he liked to repeat things over and over again. But no matter how hard I tried to make him understand my side, he had remained firm on his decision on forbidding me to shift out to film.
It was a delight for me to see my father disgusted...