Sitting in a hard plastic chair in my math class I felt paralyzed. The heat in the room was unimaginable on the cool autumn day. I could not be the only one that was feeling it. At the same time I could barely keep head straight as the math test stared back at me with harsh eyes telling me “you will never be able to pass this class,” in a slithering tone. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I should have studied longer, I kept telling myself. Flipping through the long test with trembling fingers I tried to look for something familiar. Anything to get me started.
When I was in eighth grade, I took the hardest math class that was offered. I was not recommended for it, but I felt that I would be able to do it. My first
When I was in eighth grade, I took the hardest math class that was offered. I was not recommended for it, but I felt that I would be able to do it. My first