A bead of sweat trickled across my neck like an ice-cold drop of rain running down a windowpane. I stood anxiously, juxtaposed to ten of my fifth grade classmates on a dusty six-inch high platform, each of us in our lint-free suits, as I stared forward to meet the unforgiving eyes of the students and teachers of Main Dunstable Elementary School. A steady stream of parents entered the gymnasium, and I heard chatter as parents and kids conversed noisily with each other. I felt my throat tighten and wished for the emcee, Mrs. Paradis, the principal of our school, to take up the microphone and begin the ceremony.
My friends and I, hand-chosen by our fourth grade teachers to work with a special math teacher for a period of four months, had been competing in an exclusive contest called Math Olympiad. The Math Olympiad contest consisted of five intensive five-problem tests, given over a period of four months. Among the participants in our school, a score of three or below on any test was considered “bad.” Throughout the four months, I had been working hard, aiming to receive perfect scores on the tests. As the pressure
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built up, each of us stood waiting for Mrs. Paradis to begin calling the names of those who qualified for the ultimate achievement - the national level contest. Mrs. Paradis, wearing her classic red lipstick and black knee-length skirt, slowly walked to the stage and introduced herself to the crowd, now over 400 people. As we stood on the stage it felt as if it took her thirty minutes to make her debut. Then, in her nasal voice, she started to call the names of each of us who had participated in the Math Olympiad contest at a painstakingly slow pace. I fidgeted irritably as I waited for her to finish her introduction of us. As she approached the end of the introductions, I waited anxiously for her to announce the names of the kids who qualified to attend the national event. Finally, formalities finished, Mrs. Paradis then began to read the names of the children who had qualified for the national event aloud in an alphabetical sequence by last name. Again, she called the names at a tortuous rate, glancing upward and smiling at both the crowd and us before peering down towards the list in front of her. Even as she went to read the names off the list, she started intently at the paper in front of her before pronouncing the subsequent name. As she approached the letter ‘K,’ I felt a jolt of fear and excitement run through me simultaneously. Knowing that they had high expectations, I saw my parents, who had left work for this ceremony, lean forward with uneasiness. I glanced upward and suddenly realized the massive quantity of people watching this ceremony. After bragging for many months to my friends about my mathematical ability, I stood apprehensively, waiting for Mrs. Paradis to get to my name. “I could not fail,” I thought to myself. “I could not fail.” “Higgins, Johnson, Moser,” I heard Mrs. Paradis call out. I realized that the last name “Moser” started with ‘M,’ and my name was not called. As I processed this, a lightning bolt of fear and uneasiness ran through me. My name had not been called. I stared with shock and an upset stomach towards Mrs. Paradis. I wondered what my peers and teachers would say when they also saw me after the ceremony. Would it be a “good job,” “good try,” or a laugh and dismissive push to the side? I also wondered what my parents would tell me when I returned home at the end of the day. Would they respect my efforts, or would they be disappointed in me for not living up to their expectations? After what felt like an hour, Mrs.
Paradis finished calling the names and I was ushered off stage by Mrs. Nagri, the very math teacher with whom I had been working with for months. I was no longer recognized as a smart child who had participated in a demanding contest, rather, I was regarded as a child who did not have the mathematical capability that our school looked for in its children. As I watched from the side, the other students received awards, the best of which was a gold medal and trophy for my neighbor Shrey Patel, who had placed first in the competition within our school. All the kids remaining on stage had also qualified for the national event - an achievement which no one was going to forget for a long time. I watched my parents silently walk out of the gym, heads hung down, and I knew that they had higher hopes for me walking into the
gym. That afternoon, I sat quietly on the bus, contemplating the day’s events. As I got off the bus to walk home, I realized that I didn’t deserve the right to go to the national event. The children who remained on the stage after Mrs. Paradis had called the names earlier in the day had put in great effort every day to become better at math and had done very well in the meets, some a score as high as twenty-three out of twenty-five. I had not put in an equal amount of work into this competition, and received a score of only eighteen out of twenty five. As I my outstretched fingers touched the doorknob of my house, I anticipated my parents’ reactions. I realized that no matter my parent’s reactions, life was going to go on, and that I would end up on a stage one day. I turned the doorknob and stepped confidently into the hallway, shutting the door, leaving behind my disappointments on the dusty stage which I stood on at 10:00 in the morning.
6th grade was not all that bad. That is before the incident however. Going to school was fun for the most part, the classes were difficult, friends were plenteous, and the food was good. Life at Lancaster Country Day School was swell, again, before the incident. Now, said issue somewhat killed my image at the school and saved it at the same time; it also made me question others. Were my friends really my friends? Or did they use me to as a sick and twisted way to formulate drama? I had a friend. I had many friends really, I was friends with the whole 50 people in my grade. But this friend, this friend was different. Her name Mady Gosselin. Yes, the Mady Gosselin from Kate Plus 8. We had been close, I talked to her almost every day. However,
I walked in and my stomach made a flip-flop like riding “The Scream” at Six Flags. Everyone was staring at me! With their curios eyes and anxious to know who I was. I froze like ice and felt the heat rise through my face. My parents talked to my teacher, Ms.Piansky. Then my mom whispered “It’s ti...
I, Brianna Felgoise have made it through these long and eventful three years of middle school. Throughout these years i've learned a lot of things about myself that I did not know before. Looking back from the day I first walked through the doors to this building to now, just about time for me to walk out. So much has changed and I am realizing my growth both physically and mentally. Throughout this long journey I have found myself testing my limits and lengthening my boundaries. Much has been achieved. So far I am very proud.
My middle school years were incredible. I went to three different schools during my middle school years. I attended McIntyre Middle School, Millbrook Middle School, and Brewbaker Middle School. All three of these schools were amazing and I did great things at each school. I would love to relive my middle school years. I believe middle school could make or break a child. Many children had problems in middle school but me on the other hand went through middle school with a breeze. I never had a problem with any class or subject in middle school. Many of the students adored me at each school I attended. It was never a problem for me to make new friends. If I could go back to middle school I would.
With ten minutes left on the clock, I check my answers once again. I look around the Baton Rouge High School canteen to see that most students have already handed in their tests. I flip through my answers one last time before handing the test paper to the Algebra-II test collector. My friend waves at me as I walk outside the canteen. I go over to her and ask her about the test. She says that she thinks she has done well. I am confident about most of my answers too, but I feel like I took too much time to complete the test. When we see students walking towards the theater, we head that way. We sit down with students from our school for the awards ceremony. When the announcers call out the names of Algebra-II winners, I am surprised and elated to hear my name in the first position. The weekend and the night before the
I was very attentive in primary school with my favourite subject being mathematics that I excelled greatly it. My fifth-grade teacher saw my potential and signed me up for a math competition in my region where our team placed second. This was my first chance competing at a national level and the success boost my confidence level to get involved in other activities. In grade six I was elected as the secretary for the school Builder’s Club and we entered a drama recital where our team won the competition. During this
I visited Findley Elementary School in Des Moines, Iowa on April eighth. Before attending Findley, I had never heard of the Turnaround Arts Program and how schools were using art and music as a way to help improve student learning and test scores. Findley Elementary school is considered a high-needs school because of their consistently low test scores. For this reason, they were eligible for the Turnaround Arts Program which provides art education resources to high-needs schools. At Findley and other Turnaround Arts Programs, teachers incorporate art, music, and drama to connect with students and provide them with an easier way to learn. There are many benefits of art and music education which include improvements in math and reading, reduction in suspensions, and increased attendance. Along with these general benefits, students claim it helps them concentrate more and control their behavior. Since Findley became a part of the Turnaround Arts Program in 2011, they have improved 11.40 percentage points in math proficiency, increased their reading proficiency score by 2.50
Most of the memories that I remember as a younger student took place in Monett Elementary School. The environment of the school made me feel at liberty. Around the 2000’s was when I was first introduced to this school. One afternoon during an Open House I looked around and read posters that read “Go Cubs.” At the time I didn’t know if I was more nervous than excited. The classroom walls were purple and gold. My class had around 27 students enrolled. This was the average class size at the time.
Sooner did I know, the days drew closer and the exam that tested our competence was due. Each and every individual had to be paid in his own coin. The exam started and my aspirations were high, for I knew the extent to which I was to perform. From a personal point of view, I thought I tackled each and every set of questions in those papers profoundly and expected nothing less than an “A”. Just like how it takes a while for a rocket to move from the earth to space so did the days of this exams week, and suddenly I realized that I was writing my final paper. What my colleagues and I had dreamt of some years back was to be experienced within a few hours. “Yes!” we were graduating out of basic school; the battle that we had to fight after several days of intensive teaching without leaving any stone unturned was over. And the question that engulfed my sub conscience mind was “had we all fought a good cause?” A q...
"Rafal, why don't you participate in the contest that I was talking about. I think you have a chance to win" my teacher proposed. When I was in fifth grade in elementary school I had my first chance to participate in an art contest. The name of the contest was "spring," so kids had to draw or paint a picture that represents the landscape in the spring season. In school there were many kids who could draw and paint well. My friend Marcin really made better pictures then I did, so when I went home from school I didn't have enough faith to even try. I didn’t do anything about that whole day.
For a time, I thought I had succeeded. I thought I had conquered my fear and hatred of math; however, the teaching exams involved math. As I sat for the Math Praxis on two occasions, I froze with every fraction problem I encountered. As a result, I failed both exams. I thought I had studied hard and conquered my math anxiety.
They often distinguish me as an exceptional teacher and one that they can count on when they need support. My students feel empowered to accept math challenges without fear of failure even if they do not always win the competition. I feel honored when my students refer to me as their favorite teacher and math as their favorite subject. I believe that my love of teaching, patience, words of encouragement, great sense of humor, and my compassion as a mentor has helped to shape the school and community’s perception of who I
Soon it was time for my speech. I was introduced, and as I walked to the podium, I couldn't help but smile at the audience. I had a feeling of complete exhilaration flowing through my veins. When I finished, I received a standing ovation, and Mrs. Dole surprised me by giving me a great hug and thanking me for my comments on the importance of education. But even after she finished speaking, the excitement was far from over.
It was in 2010, when I was still in Vietnam, and coming up was a very hard Transitional Exam from Secondary School to High School, which included a three-part exam: Math, English, and Literature, that all ninth graders, including myself, were very frustrated about. It was the key to open the door to a student’s dream. Because the better the high school you got into, the better education you would get, and the better preparation you would have to increase your chance to get into a great college. For that reason, every student needed to study for the exam with their best efforts.
My father is a mathematics teacher and everyone presumed that I also have a bright mind like my father. But the truth was quite bitter. Even though I was brought up with all the facilities a child could get, still I was an average student. This was my parents’ deepest despondency. I was a student with good knowledge and memory, but my indolence always dragged me to average standard.