The Downfall of Us
Westfield State University
Committee of Academic Standing
I am writing this letter as an appeal to recently being dismissed from Westfield State University because of a low GPA. This is a letter written for the sake of reinstating my academic standing as a full-time English major with a writing concentration for the Fall 2013 semester. I understand the terms of which I have been dismissed, but I also understand the circumstances causing my GPA to be so unacceptably low.
First off, I would like to bring to your attention my Basic Film Writing class with H. Stessel, of which has not yet received a final grade. Because of circumstances that will be explained further in this letter, I received an incomplete at the end of this semester.
Secondly, there is no valid excuse to allow such failure in one's academic career. My education, as it seems, is all I have going for me. In order for my current appalling grade point average to be understood, I must discuss my life, past and present, leading up to the last few months of the Spring 2013 semester.
I come from a relatively decent home environment; having grown up with a stable support system of both a mother and a father, along with a younger brother, Evan. If any child could show gratitude at the immensity of decency that their childhood was, it would be me.
In 2001, however, my parents had submerged themselves into a full-fledged divorce. I am not implying that this event in my life still affects me now, nor does it affect my current grade point average. What happens after a divorce, however, does. My father remarried in 2006, after Nathan was born, my half-brother. He was, and still is, the light of my life. With this marriage, I gained a total of four additional siblings, six if you include Evan and me. I live with my mother and my now nineteen-year-old brother, Evan. Up until I was graduated from high school, my mother worked nights. She worked incredibly hard to maintain a well-functioning home for my brother and me, which was not at all easy, and I commend her for her efforts.
But in the truest sense of the role, I took it upon myself to pick up where my father had left off. The responsibilities of an adult being placed upon the shoulders of a twelve year old are no simple feat, but I persevered. I took on more chores and took on the responsibilities that also came with taking care of an eight-year-old boy. I made sure there was dinner on the table, made sure Evan did his homework, brushed his teeth, and had clean clothes. I put him on the bus in the morning, and was there to greet him in the afternoon.
I started earning my own income when I was fourteen. I did babysitting around the neighborhood and cleaned up around a farm down the street from my home. I have not been unemployed since then, getting my first part time job as soon as a work permit would allow me. I now work part-time at Staples in their copy and print department.
I give you this background information because it is pertinent to the significant impact the events in the spring of this year have had on me. I also need you to know that I understand, first hand, what it means to be a hard worker. I have been a solid rock for my family since I was a child, and I have the determination and ambition to still be that rock. But with the pressure of being a stable support in my family, I also have, first hand, the feeling of being completely helpless and out of control of certain life events that threaten to take away from me all that I have worked so hard for.
Out of the six children in my entire extended family, I am the only one attending college of any kind. Three of my brothers have or are in the process of graduating high school, and they chose not to further their educations. Two of them actually have families of their own. Having that been said, the weight of the potential success I may or may not achieve is heavy on my shoulders. I need to succeed. I need to get a career. I need to make my own dreams come true. Because if I don't, then what kind of solid rock would I be? I fear that if I do not continue my college career, my seven year old brother, Nathan, will look at me as a failure. And in regard to his future, think it is okay not to succeed himself.
Already, I feel as if I have failed one of my brothers. Evan has been by my side his entire life, looking up to me to be his example. And I thought I had done a good job, at least, up until he started his senior year of high school. He began hanging out with all the wrong people and making poor life decisions. He has been involved with drugs, alcohol, and parties of which no high school-er should ever be involved. He has skipped classes and stayed out late, not coming home until the early morning. He gets angry easily, more so than he has ever done in the past. I have tried speaking to him about his behavior, and he shrugs me off as if my words don't matter. Needless to say, my worry was not for nothing. On May 24th, 2013, his nineteenth birthday, my brother got arrested. With his erratic behavior leading up to his arrest, I can honestly say I was not surprised, and yet, at the same time, shocked beyond belief. This was my little brother walking by me in handcuffs, the little brother I had played in the backyard with, read bed time stories to, and made sure he wasn't bullied by the other kids at the bus stop. This was Evan, of whom I had been taking care of my entire life. I know I shouldn't personally feel like a failure for my brother's mistakes, but some part of me blames myself. It's all the ‘should have,’ ‘would have,’ ‘could have's’ that have been running rapid in my brain.
And with those worrisome thoughts come more worry for my mother, who weeks prior to my brother's arrest, had gone through a gall bladder surgery. May 10th, 2013, my mother was taken into surgery at Baystate Medical Center. We had known for quite a while that my mother was experiencing pain and discomfort, her medications for back pain breaking down the insides of her abdomen. We knew she was going into surgery that is common and standard, but the fear of a mistake in any procedure still weighed on our hearts. Without my mother, I am not really sure what I would do, or how I would survive. She has been my provider, my comfort, my rock. And those inevitable doubts crept into my mind and distracted me from my academics.
As if my mother going into surgery and my brother making poor decisions was not enough, I also found out, at the beginning of May, that my home is going up for auction on June 18th, 2013. This is the home I had grown up in, made memories in, and lived in my entire life. I stayed on campus this past semester in an apartment full of five other girls just as a way to test myself, to see if I could adapt to the change of not living at home. The thing about having your home in Westfield, same location as your school, is that I can drive five minutes and be home in time for Mom’s dinner. I spent more time at my home on Springdale Rd than I did in my campus dorm. It eats at me, the thought of someone else, a stranger, living in my home, in my room, and in my kitchen. I have never moved before, never lived somewhere else before. This house, as old as it is, is where I belong. And now it is being taken from me. There's nothing I can do to stop it. And that's the worst part. Not having control. I have words and opinions, and they’re going unheard.
My words, my thoughts, my feelings, and my opinions are all I live for. I am a writer. I have been writing novels since the fifth grade, and my imagination has still many more to produce. That is my dream; to write my novels, and to read novels like mine. I wanted to go to Westfield State University because this school could further expand my horizons when it comes to my writing. The work is challenging and yet insightful. The professors are tough and yet approachable. And I can see my dream within reach. My ultimate goal, within the next few years, is to get a career as an editor at a major publishing company, all the while publishing my own. And, after hard experience and saved up knowledge, I wish to start my own publishing company. I want to be able o make other writers' dreams come true, as someone will do for me. I want to work with authors and get their books to be the best version of itself. And I want to make readers around the globe inch to the edge of their seats in suspense, the way books have done for me.
I know that I am a better student than this past semester has proved me to be. I know I have what it takes to be at your school and I know I can accomplish anything so long as my dream still waits. I only pray that you see the compassion I have in these words and hear my plea. If you require documents for any of the above events, I am more than willing to provide those to you. I thank you for your time and undeniably generous consideration.
Kayla Fontaine
Resolution #38: Never. Never. Never give up on your dreams. No matter how many cards are stacked against you, if you never give up, you will succeed. Period. Fight for who you want to be and what you want out of life. Fight until it hurts, fight til you die. Whatever you do, just keep fighting for you.
