Six years ago, I scored a 51 in my Market Research course at RMIT. Today, I lead a research department. If you had told me then that I’d be where I am now, I might have laughed in disbelief. I wasn’t a model student, far from it. I spent more time working part-time jobs than studying, because I believed experience and income were more important than grades. To my younger self, GPA didn’t matter. And honestly, in the real world, no one has ever asked about it. But looking back, I realise that mindset cost me dearly. Because of my low GPA, I missed out on many opportunities: internships, scholarships and even job interviews where academic performance was a threshold requirement. It was a hard lesson that even if grades don’t define your worth, they can still open doors, or close them.
But RMIT mattered.
When I struggled to pay my tuition fees in the final semester, it was RMIT that stepped in and supported me. That act of kindness helped me graduate on time. It was only after stepping into the real world that I realised RMIT was more than just a university. It was a miniature version of life, a demo before the full launch. Every challenge I faced at RMIT: group conflicts, communication barriers, stress, deadlines – I’ve encountered them all again in my career. The difference is that this time I know how to handle them.
I used to skip class and complain about my teachers’ accents, thinking they were hard to understand. Now, I collaborate daily with clients from different countries around the world, where English is not their mother tongue language, and I laugh at how immature I was. I’ve learnt to appreciate differences in communication, and I regret not being more open-minded back then. Those teachers gave me more than lectures; they gave me the foundation to grow. If I hadn’t met them, I wouldn’t have practised patience, adaptability, or professionalism the way I did.
Over time, I learnt that I couldn’t expect the world to meet my standards. I had to evolve and see things from different perspectives. RMIT taught me that. The skills I use today, whether it’s taking notes during meetings, analyzing insights, managing stakeholders, or navigating difficult conversations, all have their roots in my time there. What seemed like small habits like writing structured reports, presenting confidently or showing up despite uncertainty – has now become part of my leadership style.
Le Thanh Tam's Alumni Card – a "physical memory" that she still holds from RMIT
And that is the true legacy RMIT gave me:
Not a GPA, not a title, but a mindset.
A mindset to grow, to reflect, to change when needed, and to keep going even when I’m unsure. It’s the legacy of resilience, humility and curiosity - qualities that I now try to pass on to my younger teammates and peers.
Becoming the current "me" didn’t happen overnight. There were moments when I doubted myself, questioned whether I was good enough. But each time, I remembered what I had overcome, from nearly dropping out to learning from failure, from being a passive student to becoming an active leader. And that memory became my fuel. RMIT gave me more than a degree, it gave me a compass. My legacy is shaped by everything I’ve learnt, unlearnt and relearnt. And now, as I mentor others, contribute to my community and build teams that value growth over perfection, I carry forward a part of RMIT in everything I do. That is the legacy I continue to live, and hope to leave behind.
