Clashing with Calculus by Eric

Clashing with Calculus by Eric - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

I entered Enloe High School as a freshman enrolled in AP calculus. No more than twenty freshmen would be taking this course, leading me to believe I was one of the smartest in my class.

Two sophomores in my summer health class that I knew from middle school informed me that there would be a quiz on the first day of class, and Mr. Potter doesn’t tell the parents that during the open house. I relayed the information to my fellow freshmen in AP Calculus. I figured, however, since I breezed through Pre-Calc last year with little effort, I’d be fine. Hey, I didn’t need to study Precalculus at all, so why should I study now?

My calmness began to fade on the first day of school. Several of my friends told me that they reviewed Pre-calc cheat sheets and online trigonometry quizzes the night before. These same friends breezed through math the previous year with me. As class began, I started to realize that I had made a mistake by not preparing. We spent an hour or so of the ninety-minute class introducing ourselves and going over the syllabus. I became antsier as the dull conversations continued, wondering whether we would use up the entire period, giving me another chance to prepare for the quiz. However, as if he could read my thoughts, Mr. Potter thundered with five minutes remaining, “Clear your desk of everything but a pencil”, as he walked around the room, passing out a paper to each panic-stricken student.

The sheet, filled with various conversions of radians to degrees and mostly simple trigonometry, began to power over me. I couldn’t remember the unit circle for the life of me. I sat, staring at the quiz like a deer in headlights. While nearly every other student in the class scribbled vigorously to fill the quiz with answers, I just sat motionless, quietly reflecting. How could I not know any of this? Precalculus was a breeze! “Screw it,” I thought, “I have to attempt something.” I found the four or so problems I did remember how to solve and worked through those. When Mr. Potter bellowed “Pencils down”, I looked down and realized I had attempted less than half of the questions.

For the next twenty-three hours, I mulled over the quiz that destroyed me. Never had I struggled so much in my life on a quiz. As I walked into AP Calculus the next day, I saw Mr. Potter handing out the previous day’s quiz back to students. I knew I did horribly, but maybe I got partial credit for at least attempting some of the questions? He handed me mine, turned over. Please be above a 50, please be above a 50. I turned it over and saw the grade. A 29. Twenty nine percent correct. I’ve never even had nightmares of grades this low. Some of my friends appeared desolate, so I inquired to see if we shared this nightmare. “55, 67, 78”. When asked how I did, I didn’t reply as to not reveal my embarrassing score and lead my friends to believe I didn’t deserve to be in this class. If I had just studied the night before, I would have had a score twice mine. Even a few minutes of review could have gotten me a passing grade.

I kept that quiz in the front of my calculus folder for the entire year as a reminder that I cannot think that I know it all. That quiz humbled me and taught me the importance of studying and preparing. Each time I reviewed for a quiz that school year, I looked over at the sheet of paper and thought to myself, “Am I really ready?” Since then, I have pushed myself to put more effort into studying as well as teaching and helping others whenever I can.