I hate cheaters—no, I loathe them.
I stay up late at night, flashcards scattered around my desk, my eyes burning because the PowerPoint slides blur together. The words are jumbled, my vision strains, and exhaustion settles in—just for someone to copy whatever is in my paper, not knowing the hours and fatigue I have poured just to get a decent grade.
Ironically, they often end up scoring higher than the students who actually studied and sacrificed the time they could have spent relaxing, who actually know the lessons like the back of their hand, and can explain it well without flaw. Reality, it seems, favors the cheaters more.
“Work smart, not hard.” they say, I don't think copying someone's answer can equate to actually ‘working smart.’
I've been called “selfish.” I've been told “You act as if you're the smartest in the class,” if I don't let them copy off my paper, or worse, shunned by the majority of the class. They only notice my existence once exam papers are handed out or when assignments are due—they only know of my intelligence, not who I am as a person.
It's rare to have a conversation that doesn't involve the phrase “Te, pakopya nga sagot mo,” especially when deadlines draw near. I try to refuse them or at the very least, help them understand the material instead, but they just shrug me off, talking over me because cheating is easier than actually putting in the effort.
They have never tasted the satisfaction of receiving a grade they truly deserve—something born from diligent studying, late nights, and notebooks filled with handwritten notes.
It's harder to refuse them when you grow up as a people pleaser, who would rather give and give rather than to speak up.
Even teachers sometimes favor the cheaters. Praising them as if they were Albert Einstein's reincarnation for the high marks they received when in reality, it was my hard work they took credit for. But I have no choice but to keep my mouth shut—it's easier to be quiet rather than to make half the class dislike you.
I often hear the phrase, “We cheat to survive.” I couldn't help but giggle… if they actually put the work in, wrote notes, studied hard, and truly helped themselves understand the lesson, they'd have a higher chance of surviving. I knew people who actually struggled academically yet studied hard and found other ethical ways such as asking for help from the other students because cheating won't help you learn anything at all.
As Sophocles once said, “I would prefer even to fail in honor than to win by cheating.” I would just much prefer to fail—to see that big red mark on my paper, rather than to see a green mark that was copied off. Seeing a red mark still fills my heart with pride, knowing that I never deceived anyone, not the teachers, not my classmates, not myself, just to make a positive image of myself.
Maybe one day, they’ll realize cheating didn't actually help them; it hindered their progress—their progress to succession, where high grades were born from their own, actual learning.
