Math Misfit

 

Digging through some papers, I happened across one of my illustrious report cards from high school.

Immediately my heart quickened & my stomach tightened, reliving those not-so stellar days of academia.

Math wasn’t my strong suit (Neither was any other subject for that matter) and this report card showed it.

 

 

Algebra 2 was the class.

I fared so well in Algebra 1, I deemed it neccessary to continue the bloody beat-down.

I still recall the sheer panic from day one.

Looking over my fellow school mates only to realize I was the dumbest kid in class.

My grades?  You wanna see’em?

Okay, shield the eyes of young children, I warn you…..

 

C…D…D-…C with the final grade of a D.

How does one get a D MINUS?  I was holding on from failing by the thickness of the paint on a Number Two pencil.

Mr. Bollenbacher was the teacher of Algebra 2.  He was my absolute favorite teacher in high school (and I have written to tell him so in recent years).

I think Mr. B recognized I was trying hard…doing the work, but just couldn’t grasp the ring.

 

But alas, I noticed Algebra 2 wasn’t my only Achilles’ heel that school year.

 

 

It appears a Writing Skills class was another feather in my dunce cap.

 

 

 

 

C-…D…C…for a final grade of (drum roll please)…C-.

Now THAT is some God-given writing talent.

It also explains what you the reader of this website have known for years…this guy can’t conjugate a verb for shit.

Phew.

All tolled, my classroom days were brutal.  I thought I was trying but success just didn’t show in grades.

 

It is apparent my talents were in other areas, as proven in the greeting written by a classmate in my fifth-grade memory album.

 

Yeah, I’m a good fart-cutter.  So I got that going for me.

Gee, thanks Jesse.