Dear Mr. Lundemo:
Last month I went to Reno for a visit and I took the opportunity
to access some boxes of memorabilia I had left at my sister’s when I left Reno
in 2000. I knew that I would be moving
around a bit trying to figure out life and whatnot and I didn’t want to
misplace any of these items, which included a lot of college books, high school
stuff and other items of sentimental value to me.
Back in high school in my sophomore English class, for one
particular project I had built a marionette stage with several marionettes to
go along with it, all handmade. I don’t
remember the nature of the assignment but I remember having put in a lot of
work and devotion into this project and was very proud of the outcome. During the presentation of the project in
class, you had found the project to be lacking significance and thought, and
you called me out on it in front of the class.
Not only was I humiliated, but my artistic talent felt dismissed. In any case, this event was one of those
things that took place in my youth that I couldn’t ever forget. I
excited your English class with a sour taste in my mouth.
You may recall that some months ago, I called you an asshole
on someone’s Facebook posting, not realizing that you were tagged on the post. At that moment, I felt really strong about my
comment, but I responded by taking it down and blocking you on FB.
Let’s go back the box of stuff that I brought home to
California. I started going through my
yearbooks to find pictures to share on Facebook and Instagram. I then started reading the senseless comments
my idiotic classmates wrote, of which few were more than “Enjoy your summer. Call me”.
Blah. I started to read the
comments the teachers left me; some of these were mechanically rehearsed and
overdone to perfection, but a few really stood out and were unique and sincere.
I came across the comment you wrote into my sophomore yearbook
(1993) right next to your picture. I am
not going to capture it word for word on here, but I will say it was a very
nice message. There was one line that
truly stood out to me though; it read: “I
hope you know the difference between good work and superior work.”
Reading those words was like taking a shot of Tequila. It burned, motherfuckers, it burned!!! It burned because I look back at my life
today at the age of 38 and I ask myself why I didn’t go the extra mile? Why did I always take the easy way out? To just get it done. You know?
It’s a bad habit I picked up somewhere at an unknown age and it has
shaped my life tremendously. I consider
myself a successful person; but then I ask myself, where would I be and how
much more successful would I be if I had given everything I did 120% or more? You know?
Success comes to those that want it and are willing to work for it – the
rest of us, well…. We just stay stuck as productive employees of someone. LOL
Bottom line is that ever since I opened that yearbook, I
realized that you had the best of intentions in what you said to me that day
about the marionette stage. It wasn’t
about humiliating me or dismissing my work, it was an attempt to propel me higher. I sort of missed out.
I’m writing to apologize for having called you an asshole a
few months back. That was uncalled for, especially
on someone’s post that was giving you praise for the positive impact you had on
his education. I also want to thank you
for what you wrote in my yearbook; 21 years later it surfaced to give me a
nudge and help me snap out of a mentally sedentary existence.
Sincerely,
Jose A Leal
