That moment that you were convinced you were going to fail, but you succeeded.
So I’m not one to brag about myself, in fact in most cases, I don’t have a whole lot of nice things to say about myself. However, as a child and throughout my school career, I was pretty damn impressive when it came to grades. I didn’t have to try hard or even study, and even if I fell asleep every day in class, I’d still pass with either honor roll or distinguished honor roll every semester.
However, like anyone else, I had one class that I was just terrible at, that I could never just do well unless I studied constantly… That subject for me was math. General math wasn’t too bad, but once you started adding letters to the equations, I was done. Percentages and fractions in particular killed me. I just hated everything about it.
In my high school, in order to graduate, you had to take two math classes throughout your high school career. I took the easiest ones I could and still had a hard time. It didn’t help that the last class that I took, the teacher was horribly mean and had a weird way of grading homework. She wouldn’t check everyone’s, she would just pick a few people each day. So it gave you the illusion that if you didn’t do your homework every day, you probably wouldn’t get caught. However, that was never the case with me. Any day I chose not to do my homework happened to be the day she picked me. Or even when I had done my homework, I was so bad at it that the only reason I got credit was because she didn’t actually check all the answers, she just checked to see if you did it.
Algebra 2 was the only class I ever failed an entire marking period of, and when I failed anything, I got grounded. So I was grounded until/if I got my grade up to passing. When it came time for the final, I studied HARD and for several days before the exam. I knew that I had to get an 89 for the marking period to pass the entire year and I was cutting it close, and the final would be the big decider of whether or not I passed or had to take the class again the next year.
Also, conveniently, at the time of the final exam, the actual teacher had gotten into an accident with a riding lawn mower, and her substitute, who also happened to be her daughter, was significantly nicer.
Well all the studying for the final paid off and I got a 94%, the highest grade for that final in the entire class. However, even getting the 94%, I was only at an 86% for my final grade for that marking period. Well, my mentioning of how nice the substitute wasn’t for no reason, because surprisingly when I got my report card, my grade had been changed to the 89% needed to pass the class. I was so excited for many reasons, obviously being ungrounded was the biggest, but also because that meant I was DONE with math for the rest of my school career. It was a win all around.
I was lucky not to fail often in school, and I’ve not been as hard on my kids about failing a marking period here or there as my parents were on me, especially in elementary school. Because I’ve seen that outside of school, grades didn’t always mean everything and as long as my kids are trying their hardest, sometimes they just aren’t going to do well at certain things. Also, I guess I’m just kind of a pushover. Any way, this blog wasn’t particularly exciting, but yeah, here it is.