First’s happen to everyone; may that be a first child, a first breath, or just simply the first day of school. Everyone experiences a first. One of mine stands out significantly among others to me, is the first day of public school – or, my freshman year of high school. I was terrified, all these people shoving to get to their next class as I had no idea where to go – even though I did visit the school a few days before to figure out my rooms. Everything I had told myself the days following had shot right out of my head.
After a couple weeks, I realized that school was harder than I had ever imagined; specifically, Algebra 1. My mind wouldn’t form around the idea of how to figure out where X and Y were on a graph. Again, I was lost. I was beginning to feel down, not understanding the concept of where this equation came from, and like others, I wondered how I would ever use this in my life after high school.
It took me a week to figure out that I needed help, not just from my mom either. At the time, I was taking a choir class as my 5th period choice. It was beginning to bore me, with the songs I didn’t know and the lack of friends in there, I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I had thought. And the fact that I inherited my mother’s not-so-perfect voice, I decided I should find something better to spend my time. With that, the search was on. But it didn’t take long to find out that there was a class taught for those who struggled in Algebra 1. So, getting a few signatures on a piece of paper, I soon started my first day of Math Lab, where I was taught by a family friend who had known my parents for 15 years.
It was there that I found where X and Y was on a graph and how the equations worked. I wasn’t lost anymore, and I had excelled in my class to be the annoying one who always raises their hand to answer a question. I quickly became known at an “overachiever” to my friends, earning A’s on my quizzes and tests. My hate for math had turned into a love – and I loved to figure out those stubborn equations.
