Notes From the Week I Didn’t Like My Grade

Tuesday, on the train

I had refreshed on Minerva a couple of times throughout the week, hoping for an early release of grades. They were only released at the end of the day, and I was on the train at that time. I carefully connected to the WiFi, expecting a good grade that I thought I deserved after working on the essay all winter break, with 13 drafts saved on my drive to show for it.

The number was out. It just sat there, stubborn and unmoved by how carefully I looked at it. I closed the tab. Opened it again. The same result appeared. I felt hollow for the rest of the train journey home.

I wondered if this was the moment everything I thought about myself academically started to unravel.

Myth 1: A disappointing grade means you didn’t understand anything

It rarely does. Most often, it means you understood things not in the way that the assessment was asking for. There is a difference between knowing the material and knowing how to work with it. University assessments prioritise the latter, and it can be more challenging than understanding concepts.

At the time of opening a grade, though, it’s hard not to translate one number into a sweeping judgment about your ability. That leap is emotional rather than logical, but incredibly common.

Thursday, at home

I finally mustered up the courage to read the feedback properly, then again, and then a third time. Keywords from the feedback began to float around in front of me. I knew what they meant individually, but together they felt like instructions written in a code everyone else had already cracked.

I started to think: maybe I’m just not cut out for this kind of thinking. Maybe other people have something instinctive that I’m missing. It’s remarkable how efficiently feedback can turn into self-sabotage.

Myth 2: Everyone else knows what the feedback means

Some people are just better at hiding the confusion.

Understanding feedback is a skill in itself,  one that’s often learned through meetings with a lecturer and half-formed questions, and the uncomfortable realisation that you’ve been doing the wrong thing very diligently. Struggling to interpret comments isn’t a personal failure, just part of learning the language of academia.

Tuesday, on campus

I asked for a feedback meeting with some notes, as I felt stuck and had seemingly lost the ability to edit my own writing.

What changed things was clarity. Although I had followed guidance carefully, put time into the work, and made sure everything was accurate and well-structured, I had not gathered the remaining pieces of the puzzle. At this point, I knew I needed to question, test, and push myself further.

Once I understood this, the feedback started to feel actionable.

Myth 3: Critical analysis means having groundbreaking thoughts

More often, it means taking what someone else has said and asking: Why? How? To what extent? What’s missing here? It’s more about positioning, about showing you can think with and against ideas, not just repeating them accurately.

Realising this was oddly comforting: I didn’t need to reinvent the field, just enter the discussion.

Looking back now

Disappointing grades hurt because they interrupt a story we tell ourselves: that if we work hard, follow instructions, and explain things clearly enough, success will follow naturally.

But university doesn’t just reward the effort of understanding; it goes beyond this, rewarding engagement, risk, and the ability to sit with uncertainty on the page.

A less-than-ideal grade often just asks you to think differently, to move beyond just laying ideas out clearly and to start questioning and responding to them. That adjustment is rarely comfortable. The grade itself hasn’t changed, but the way I understand it has. Sometimes bouncing back is about translation, learning how to read what is asking of you. And once you learn that, you’re already working beyond it.

Myth 4: One grade defines your trajectory

It doesn’t, but how you respond to it can shape what comes next. Seek help, and ask for feedback to be clarified, as it is meant to be directional. Learning how to read that direction, even when it stings, is part of becoming more confident.

Words by Jacqueline Wong