The Day My College Broke Me: A Story of Effort, Ego, and Silence
Some days don’t hurt because of failure.
They hurt because of humiliation, misunderstanding, and the quiet realization that effort doesn’t always earn respect.
Today was one of those days.
The Invitation That Started It All
A day before the incident, I received an invitation that genuinely excited me. I was invited to a project expo at an international school run by my college chairman’s other institution. The invitation came from someone important — the IT Head of the chairman’s entire business, who also happens to be my cybersecurity club mentor.
He mentioned two things:
- Attend the school’s project expo
- There would be a small, informal meeting with the chairman
Naturally, I took this seriously.
I did what a responsible student should do — I informed my Department HOD, the IQAC, and even spoke in front of the college administrator, who encouraged us and said:
“Nice guys. Tell the chairman about your projects and future ideas.”
At that moment, I truly believed everything was aligned.
Preparing With Hope
The next day, me and my friend prepared properly.
We didn’t treat this casually.
We got haircuts, dressed neatly, and mentally prepared ourselves — not as students chasing favors, but as people representing work we’ve done with pride.
We went to college first to officially get an outpass to attend the expo and meeting.
That’s when waiting started.
Waiting… and Waiting… and Waiting
My HOD said he’d inform the principal.
We waited.
One hour passed.
Then we were told to wait again because the principal was speaking with the same IT Head who had invited us.
Finally, we were told:
“If you want to speak, go directly and talk to the principal.”
We went.
That decision changed everything.
The Room Where Everything Fell Apart
The moment we entered and explained why we were going, the principal reacted — not with questions, not with clarification — but with anger.
He didn’t allow us to finish even a single sentence.
What followed was a monologue filled with accusations, assumptions, and humiliation.
In my mother tongue (Tamil), he said things along the lines of:
- You come at the last moment
- You roam around the college like staff
- You think you can directly meet higher authorities
- You lack discipline
- You run here and there showing heroism
- I’ll tear you apart if this continues
No listening.
No verification.
No respect.
Just power.
We stood there silently.
Then we left.
The Lie That Hurt Even More
Shortly after, I received a call from the IT Head — the same person who invited us.
He said:
“Your principal called me and said you have college work, so you can’t come.”
That wasn’t true.
It was Sports Day.
No classes.
We weren’t participating in any events.
The truth had already been rewritten without us being present.
He said he was busy and we could talk later.
And just like that, the opportunity disappeared.
“Don’t Make This a Problem”
Later, my HOD called us again.
He apologized — not for what happened, but for how the principal behaved. He said:
- The principal is under pressure
- Don’t make this an issue
- Don’t tell anyone
- Just forget it
We were “counseled” for nearly an hour.
In the end:
- No permission
- No follow-up
- No acknowledgment
- No closure
We simply went home.
Why This Hurt So Much
This wasn’t just about a meeting.
It hurt because of everything we had already done:
- Winners of a national-level hackathon
- 3rd prize in a government-conducted Startup-thon, with free startup support
- 2nd prize in a project expo
- Running a cybersecurity club in our college
- Conducting free awareness sessions and workshops
- Building a local cybersecurity community
- Starting a college podcast
- Preparing for a podcast episode with the chairman (already scheduled through IQAC)
All of this — without asking for rewards, certificates, or favors.
Just contribution.
And yet, one incident was enough to make us feel like troublemakers instead of contributors.
The Silent Damage
What people don’t talk about is how incidents like this affect students mentally.
Not anger alone — but:
- Self-doubt
- Loss of motivation
- Emotional exhaustion
- The feeling of being small despite big effort
Today didn’t just cancel a meeting.
It crushed momentum.
Writing This for Closure
I’m not writing this to attack anyone.
I’m writing because silence eats people alive.
Students don’t break when they fail.
They break when they are not heard.
I don’t know what comes next.
I don’t know if I’ll continue giving the same energy.
But I know this —
effort without dignity is unsustainable.
This is my truth.
And I needed to say it somewhere.