Dear Professor,
I am not writing to you about late work, and this is not a note about office hours. I’m not looking to convince you to raise my grade, though I’m sure when you saw who this note was from you took your stereotypes and you made your assumptions. Consider this to be the first time I prove you wrong. It won’t be the last. But then again, maybe you don’t even know my name but I know that you’ve seen me in class. I’m the girl in the giant philanthropy shirt and leggings with my overscheduled planner lying open on my desk. I’m the girl who always seems to have a Diet Coke in her hand while limping in my heels for badge attire. I’m the girl sporting the pair of hard letters proudly across my chest every Wednesday. Sound familiar? Yes, I am that blonde girl whose letters might as well be Delta Iota Tau Zeta because that’s all you’ve ever really see me as.
Do you remember that club meeting where you mocked Greek Life countless times as I sat quietly in my spirit jersey? How about the one where I eventually made it very clear that I was in Greek Life? Remember calling the whole Greek system evil? Maybe you were joking, it did seem as if I were the only one not laughing. As the meeting continued I was content to sit and notice how few people understood Robert’s Rules of Order and was only slightly pleased to note the fact that our organization had more control over a weekly meeting of 120 people than you seemed to have over a group of 20. I watched you all try to plan fundraising events, and thought about our three annual philanthropy events that raise thousands of dollars for our philanthropy. I thought of how each member is expected to have a certain number of philanthropy hours outside of our events.
I smiled along as you joked about me paying for my friends, thinking about the dues I also paid to be in your club or in your class. The friends I made in my sorority mean more to me than any prerequisite ever could. I knew what I signed up for when I joined Greek Life, and I’m content in knowing that you’ll never understand, but I shouldn’t have to expect the bias from a professor. Every snide, irrelevant comment you slide into your lecture only teaches me how ignorant a person can be. You aren’t even worth confronting; your mind is too closed off so I’ve learned that nothing I ever say can convince you step outside your pig-headed opinion. Anyways, it isn’t like stereotypes against Greek life are the largest issue that our world is facing, it’s minor. So instead of confronting you, I’m going to prove you wrong.
The next time you assign an essay, prepare to be shocked by the effort put behind mine. During a group project, take notice of how easily I slip into the leadership role despite how quiet I can be. And when the surprise shows, and it always does, don’t expect me to blink an eye. Know that how little faith you had in me and how low you set my standard is what pushed me to prove you wrong and be happy that I’ve learned to respond to the naysayers that way.
Many, however, don’t respond well to an unsupportive environment. Hopefully I will make you question your beliefs so much so that the next time a girl sits at the front of your class with her planner and her letters, you’ll expect nothing but excellence from her because if she’s juggling school with Greek life, then she is capable of nothing less.