It was a chilly mid-day of September. The classroom felt so shallow when I saw my paper. I would never have guessed that my first ever bad grade would come in a subject I am more than average at. There was a very deep hole in my heart; as soon as I saw that grade it was like someone had just shot me. A 64. Many thoughts went through my head: “Maybe she messed up, this isn't mine is it?” ”I've never done bad in my life. Why now?” “Out of all my classes, why a college course class?” Imaginary tears fell down my cheeks as I was trying to imagine the day of the test.
The day of the test was a mid September day. The lunch bell had just rang, and 5th period class commenced at 11:00 AM. You could feel the anxiety in the air as Ms. Haugneland (the pre-calculus teacher) gave us her speech. “You guys are smart kids. This is your first major test, and I want you to relax and just take deep breaths. If you get stuck, you guys got this. I Believe in you.” Of course I thought I had it in the bag, so I didn't take it to heart, but the anxiety of not performing as well as the others, per usual, overwhelmed me. There was a moment where the silence overwhelmed the room and it sounded loud: loud pencil taps representing the confusion and focus some were demonstrating. Pages were being flipped around desperately by students trying to find the right page for the notes.
After the test was done and over with, everything seemed to have become lighter. Fast forward back to the day of the results; after my quick little mental breakdown, I was trying to plan out how I was going to handle this so I wouldn’t go and mess up my grade even more than before. I came up with the idea that I was actually going to study for once and focus on passing the college portion of the class, but that wasn't the case. We took two more exams and without a doubt I failed them both. At that point I realized I had to ask for assistance, I actually started asking the people around me and reviewing every piece of material just to be ready to take the midterm.
The midterm rolled around and I had endless nights where I would go to the kitchen (my comfort zone) and just study for hours with 10 minute intervals every hour, listening to the countless Khan Academy videos, the waterfall from my fish tank splashing around; everything was making me a bit tedious. I hated it, but I adjusted after a while. It became more apparent to me that using the methods others had taught me worked. I ended up passing my midterm with a high 90. Studying--watching instructional videos, taking notes, reworking problems--paid off, and I realized that it was because I was so stubborn before that I had never thought of, or had the least bit of interest in, studying for something I thought I was naturally gifted at. That precalculus course changed my perception on how crucial it is to not to get accustomed to succeeding without studying because sooner or later you will reach a limit that will force you to step out of your comfort zone in order to progress.
Although this piece was primarily for college use I found it to be one of the pieces I can actually describe very vividly. To remember everything I did was such an easy process since I can still visit the class every once in a while to remember those terrifying days of pre-calc. I structured my poem chronologically, I didn’t want to skip an event or skip around because I felt as though it would confuse the reader.
I like how you structured your memoir, you started it with a "mid-day of September" then ended it with midterms. I also enjoyed how you were descriptive with your surroundings. For instance, how you talked about the fish tank that splashed in the background as you studied.
--Jimena Lopez
I love the imagery you create with just your words. your way of describing the situations you were in really gave me a clear insight into what was going on and how such small things can create emotions.
--Ashley Reyes