X = Peanut Butter and Jelly by Katlyn

X = Peanut Butter and Jelly by Katlyn - July 2014 Scholarship Essay

Like many kids growing up, I struggled with math. Actually, I still struggle with math. And maybe struggle isn’t quite the right word. My relationship with math is more like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You see, the ideal sandwich is a seamless balance of sweet, sticky jelly and thick, creamy peanut butter. The two complement each other. One might even say they waltz together. And the bread? The bread is not outweighed by them; it is their dance floor. Though in my experience, the peanut butter ends up overpowering everything. Your mouth goes dry while your tongue fights to relieve the top of your mouth from the peanut butters grip, the jelly oozes from the middle leaving a sticky mess on your fingers, and the bread fights to contain the two while staying in one piece: my grades are the jelly, math is the peanut butter, and I am the bread. It is hardly a waltz. And while I had a few good years at the beginning of high school, they were short lived.

After taking a placement test at the end of my sophomore year, I was surprised to find that I could skip from geometry II all the way to honors pre-calculus. I was ecstatic. My parents, on the other hand, had a different idea. My dad said he would support whatever class I chose, but advised me to stay where I was. My mom flat out told me not to move because I had a high chance of failing. That is the moment my pride got the better of me. In my mind, someone had officially told me I could not do it so I decided to completely skip algebra and move up. I knew I was moving into a class where the likelihood of me knowing the basics was slim to none. I knew I would be about two years behind everyone around me. And I knew I would have to dedicate all my spare time to it just to keep up.
Walking into class the first day I was greeted by the teacher that would become the most influential person in my life that year: Mr. Desserich. He was about two feet taller than me with thin, red hair. His room was in slight disarray but there was a seating chart on the board, two piles on the first desk, and math posters strewn across each wall. Truly a struggling math student’s nightmare, and me? I was seated in the front and center of the room; nowhere to hide. Everyone would be able to see me call him over for help at least four times each class and everyone would know when I could not answer the question asked. I was mortified. But despite all my fears, both irrational and otherwise, Mr. Desserich never failed to support me. Yes he pushed me and yes, he did not always give me direct answers to my questions but he never turned me away. Nearly every Thursday I would show up after school for tutoring and stay for as long as I could. Then, while the other students left around 4:30, he assured me that I could stay if I had more questions. We would stay up at the whiteboard with markers in hand and my notes on the table until all my questions had been answered. I would often stay in the room until almost 6 o’clock in the evening even though we got out of school at 3:30. I would then go in early Friday mornings for last minute questions before our weekly test. Yet, on several occasions, I still managed either a failing grade or one that was barely passing. It then became my mission to score higher that the lowest passing grade, a 69.5%. My goal, however, was to score over a 75% and gradually, I was able to work up my scores. I remember the first time I scored an 82%; Mr. Desserich directly emailed me congratulating me on my highest score of the year. He told me that even though it was not the highest score in the class, he was incredibly proud of the effort I had put in to earn my score. To this day, I still have that e-mail.

At the end of the day, Mr. Desserich taught me more than math. He taught me the value of the effort you put in despite your fears and doubts. He taught me that every subject can be learned if you apply yourself. He taught me that it isn’t about how much time you spend, but how you spend your time. That is why I am not afraid to go into new, challenging classes; I know I can do it. I know I can make the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich no matter which class is the peanut butter.