Dear Teacher,
I want to be a writer. Your grades are not going to stop me. I will prove you wrong. Trust me, I don't think the alcohol guzzlers next to me are going to dig themselves out of those dropping grades. I see them in a factory on an assembly line praying for a union to help them. My essay was the definition of perfection. No, I don't lack confidence, but I have been told that is a very good trait to have. By the way, Luke, I understand. You prove your dominance by administering these poorly graded assignments. I get you think you are in control. I am going to be a writer, and I don't need a god telling me so. You have underestimated me.