For two years I wanted to switch to distance learning because the system wasn't benefiting me. Two years ago, I wasn't ready. But in my final year, I gave it one last chance. Within two weeks, I knew I had made a mistake. After reading research from some of the world's most respected institutions, I realized resilience was the key to ruling your own life.
So I decided to stay, make the conditions as irritating as possible, and master resilience in that school where it was filled with arrogant and uneducated 'educators' who were serving a dictatorship.
I joined the art class to nurture my creative side because as much as I love business and board rooms I also live for to create and to express.
But our new teacher turned out to be completely disconnected from the world. At first, I overlooked his objectively foolish ideas. By the third week, he openly defended inequality in education, in front of four students, young minds still shaping their worldview. That Monday morning, sleepless as I was, I couldn't let it slide.
He then told a story about his time in a village school, where he illegally forced students to buy equipment he liked. When parents resisted, one child was beaten, and he laughed while describing the bruises of the child.
As someone who grew up in village schools myself, I went all in on him (with my words). He didn't understand inflation yet misinformed students about it. He knew no politics yet misled people about it. And now he was proudly telling a story where his arrogance led to a child being hurt.
Until that point, I had stayed quiet about him also making us (illegally) buy equipment he personally preferred. But I told him straight: what he was doing was illegal, and if he wanted canvases, he should request them from the school budget, a budget that received large donations. He claimed the school didn't have funds. I had already heard whispers about embezzlement, but didn't care, until then. My request to see the financial reports was denied, but he never again asked us to buy equipment after I warned him I'd file a report.
After our last clash, he apologized repeatedly and even suggested I should become a lawyer because I was "good at arguing." What he didn't realize is that anyone can win an argument against a man with that little intelligence.
But it was never about winning.
It was about seeing, firsthand, how unqualified adults can shape young minds with misinformation, and how dangerous that really is.
That man became one of my greatest challenges. And that year, I mastered my resilience more than I've ever had before. I treated my last year of high school as a mental challenge to grow resilience.
This time, it was my philosophy teacher. She demanded every student keep a notebook and take notes the way she thought was "the best way to learn." I refused.
For the whole year, I sat at the edge of the classroom with my economics book, irrelevant to her class but more valuable to me. While 22 students scribbled in their notebooks, I quietly read, never distracting anyone. Every time she asked me a question, I could answer.
But one day she snapped. She accused me of disrespecting her and said that was why I was failing her exams.
What she didn't know was that I, the only student without notes, ended up with the highest score in the entire class.
I told her directly: either her teaching methods were ineffective, or the 22 students who obeyed her all year had lower IQ than me.
She stayed silent.
I kept reading my book.
This wasn't just about me vs. a teacher. It was about how rigid systems often punish independent thinkers, even when the results prove them wrong.
And no way in hell I would willingly adjust myself to her slow and sloppy way of teaching.
Resilience isn't only about fighting corruption or injustice. Sometimes it's about resisting conformity, and holding your ground when you know your way works, even if you stand alone.
Yes, maybe I can't change the system (yet), but I can isolate myself from it to protect my growth today and pave the way for the independent thinkers of tomorrow.