Why I like the letter B

More on Facebook later.  The rant isn't over yet... I can get a little more mileage out of that one - one or two more posts, perhaps.  If people start de-friending me, I'll know I've crossed the line.  But at the end of the Facebook rant series, I will have decided what I'm doing with Facebook, and will act according to my decision.  In the meantime, I would like to take this brief moment to extol the letter B.  Specifically, I would like to talk about the letter B as it relates to professor's judgment of my academic performance.  But to explain why I like the letter B, I need to back up one step...

I like the letter A.
I don't like mediocrity.
But neither do I like being measured by the judgments of others.
I do not like the idea that a grade on a paper defines me.
When you see the letter A in red ink at the end of your papers as often as you see your first and last names on the title page, it becomes difficult to separate one from the other.
No matter how diligently you remind yourself that it's not your identity.

Some of you may scoff and ask when I last got anything less than an A.
In April, thank you very much.
I got a B.
Not a B+.
It was a solid B.
My roommate congratulated me.
We've been working on this all year.

I went to the prof's office.
We talk sometimes.
So we chatted about my plans for September.
I asked him to write a reference for me.
He did.
Mostly he said good stuff.
He questioned the stability of my emotional health.
But who really needs emotional health to take an M.A. in Counselling... really?
We laughed.

He said that when I emailed to make an appointment, he thought I was going to contest my B.
I told him that both of us knew it wasn't my best work.
And thanked him for the B.
He said, 'This is a twisted conversation.'
So I told him...

1. B tells me that I have room to improve: I'm still learning, being challenged, and that's a good thing.
2. B tells me that I have nothing to hide: I'm not perfect, and I need not spend my time trying to prove that I am.
3. B tells me that I'm normal: everyone has ups and downs, and I'm no exception.
4. B tells me that my life is becoming balanced, that it matters that I take time to eat dinner with friends, blog, sit in my hammock, read Tolstoy, watch Jane Austen movies, wear moccasins, play with the neighbour's dog, drink tea, take vitamin C, try on eclectic jewelry at Ten Thousand Villages, look at the stars, make a collage that encompasses my feelings, immerse myself in research simply because I enjoy it, have an argument, listen to a friend, share my feelings, go on a date, sleep in on Saturday... these things matter.  
5. B tells me that I matter. I have gotten more formal recognition for my grades than anything else in life, and after a while, you start to wonder if anyone can see past the giant A stamped on your forehead.

Concluding thoughts: I like the letter B (when it appears on an assignment), and the letter A (when it appears on my transcript)... I like my GPA.  But I'll jump that hurdle too, I'm sure.