In 9th grade, I took my first math class, Geometry Honors. Once I received my schedule, I felt like I was a genius and better than my peers. I thought to myself, “This is simple work and I’m gonna ace this class.” Honestly, the class started pretty tame, the coursework was manageable, and the teacher was somewhat lenient, but as it is well known, all good things must come to an end.
Around the second quarter, my life came crashing down. The assignments started making less and less sense, and I felt myself falling behind. If I am being totally honest, I wanted to cop out, I quickly felt like maybe this course wasn’t for me and I wasn’t smart enough. My pride couldn’t take it. I came up with a genius idea: request a course change. It made total sense, I could drop down a level and maybe fix my fragile ego. And so I initiated my plan, I scheduled the required parent-teacher conference and waited.
When the day came I was so happy, I had even already started applying less effort in the class, as I felt as if it didn’t matter anymore. Me and my mother walked into the school and patiently waited for our turn to conference with my geometry teacher. I had already told my mother all of the “evilness” that my teacher had put her “subjects” through so I thought that this meeting would be in and out. To my surprise when it was time for me to present my problems, I went blank. I tried to think of all of the issues I had with the class but I couldn’t. My teacher, on the other hand, had brought an “itinerary” of my perceived behavior in the classroom. She spoke about my brightness but unwillingness to apply myself past a certain level. She spoke about the countless tutoring opportunities she offered that I chose not to attend. She spoke on the extra credit that was provided that I felt was unneeded. I realized that the problem wasn’t the course or the teacher, but me.
Safe to say I got a stern talking to my mom after she received all of the evidence presented against me. On the ride home, my mother spoke to me about how throughout my whole life I was able to float easily through any class I attempted, but that wouldn’t work anymore. I had to apply myself and do the work necessary to succeed. So when school came around the following Monday, I nervously walked into class, embarrassed to face the teacher who showed me who I was. To my surprise, she said nothing about the teacher conference that was held. After the harsh realization I had come to terms with, I decided that I needed to do what should have been done the entire time, apply myself. For the rest of the year, I attended all tutoring sessions and I completed all extra credit assignments provided. Funnily enough, I finished the course with a C letter grade. A simple 78, a grade I never even fathomed having in my life. I had to learn to accept myself and my grades, but I told myself I would never sell myself short again.
“Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.” That is a quote I have chosen to live by since then. I have decided not to let this “setback” define who I am or what I know I am capable of and I continue to apply myself and strive to be the best I can.
