Song Dynasty Scholar

My earliest memory is a humbling one, and also my first recollection of physical pain- the harsh beatings of my father’s bamboo pole still ring in my head. I had been selected as a child, a comparatively bright mind at the age of seven, and given a rigorous education that none of the other children in my home village were subjected to. However, I wasn’t giving the results they had hoped for- my calligraphy was sloppy and my memorization lacking. Those days are far behind me. I have since put in my full dedication into the memorization and studies of The Analects, and furthering my rank in hopes of bringing good fortune and blessings to my village. I write this in a reminiscent tone, as now, at the age of thirty-five, I have failed to pass the imperial exam. This memory still rings through me clearly, a cold and clammy memory of stifled silence, the sharp smell of urine in my stifling cubicle and the beady eyes of the inspectors as they looked through my meager belongings. I dread returning to my home village, as my family had such high hopes for my future when I became a provincial graduate. I swear I will keep trying for the title of presented scholar, no matter how lengthy a time it takes.