Journee Trotter

The Adventures of Geometry

            The first day I stepped into Renee Munsey’s room, I was met with the immediate aurora of nothing but pain. The previous year, I had been exceptionally good at math, passing with nothing less than a 95. This year however, I approached Geometry with a happy face, and left with depression.

            The first quiz I had in Geometry, I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. I had missed the past two lessons due to appointments, and the only help I had gotten out of her was “look at the notes.” I took the quiz with fear in my heart, and it was like I could feel all my faith leaving my body. As soon as I saw the first question, my heart dropped. “How could I know what supplementary and complementary lines are without an explanation?!” and “How can she actually expect me to pass this class?!” kept running, sprinting, and doing summersaults through my head. In the end, I completely bombed that quiz. I got around a 56, and it was then I knew I was in for a ride.

 By the time I had to take my first formative assessment, I had told and taught myself that I was going to pass it, and pass it with an A. The day of the test, I could literally smell the anxiety dripping off of me. It smelled like an F with a hint of disappointment. I walked into the place I had learned to call prison, and my friend, Andrea, immediately came up to me.

“Are you read for this? I spent like, 10 hours studying last night,” she worriedly said.

“Lol, no. I studied, but I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Let’s pray that we’ll pass,” she said with not an ounce of sarcasm.

So, for about two minutes, Andrea and I sat there begging and pleading to God that he would grant us an A. I took the test, and it seemed like my prayer was answered because God had graciously blessed me with an A.

“Journee, what did you get?!” Andrea asked.

“A 93, what did you get?!” I practically yelled across the room.

“Same!"

She and I were practically dripping with so much happiness, I think it could’ve affected anyone within a 50 foot radius. Getting that A was like winning your first competitive game in a sport, and it felt exhilarating. It made me feel like I could actually pass Geometry for the first time all year. But, little did I know, the worst part of Geometry was coming to hit me harder than a bus.

A couple of days after the formative, I was sitting in class listening to the new lesson. I was starting to zone out because learning about the Pythagorean Theorem for the third time becomes a little repetitive. Anyways, as Mrs. Munsey was flipping through the slides, she started explaining that we would be starting proofs, and that we had to prove multiple ways triangles and other geometric figures were similar. My head started thumping, and my ears started making an obnoxious ringing noise that pulsated throughout my body. At that moment, I was seriously debating dropping the class.

The first quiz and test I had on proofs, I didn’t do too hot. I had absolutely no idea what theorems and postulates I was supposed to use, and as soon as I saw a proof with 16 steps on the quiz, I knew I was done for. I told myself that even though I didn’t well on the quiz, I would prevail to new heights on the test. I was right. I got a low A on the test, whereas on the quiz I had gotten a low B. When I saw my test grade that was the second to last time I was extremely proud of myself for prevailing against the odds.

My year in Geometry was slowly, but quickly coming to an end. Before I knew it, I had breezed through around five months of the highs and lows of my Geometric career. The end of the year was coming, which meant it was time for me to take the SOL. I had been counting down the days until Geometry was over, and this test was the last thing holding me back from that happening. My friends and I in my class had actually been dreading this test, but we knew that once we took it, all our endeavors would be over.

By the time the test date had snuck up on me, I was a nervous wreck. I had been preparing for this test for weeks, but it felt like my brain was being crumpled up into nothingness in my head. My friends kept assuring me that I would be fine, but it was the prayer that Andrea and I said before the test that almost calmed my nerves into no existence.

“Hey girlie, let’s pray before this. I think we need it,” Andrea urged.

I nodded my head and started with,” Dear God, please give us the strength and knowledge and endurance to pass this test. Even though I didn’t try on my other tests, I promise to try my hardest on this one.”

Andrea added to it,” Yes, God. Please just let us pass advanced and I will forever be grateful. Thank you, God. Amen.”

“Amen.”

After an exhausting two or three hours in the testing site, I was finished. It was over. All that was left was finding out if I passed or not. Andrea and I had decided to go together, but only because no one else wanted to go with us. I walked in after Andrea, feeling so anxious that I almost forgot how to walk. Mrs. Munsey showed us both our scores, and that was the third and final time I was proud of myself in that class. We had both passed advanced. We were so happy that we were both crying. That moment was the most satisfying moment I had felt in a long time.

Looking back a year later, the class wasn’t that bad. My grades may have been a result of me never paying attention, or I just wasn’t good in Geometry. My anxiety may have been a result of me being overdramatic. But, now I know that if you stick around long enough and keep trying, only good results can come from it.