Chapter One

Algebra One and Algebra Two gave my life chaos.

An inkling of independence, a nudge from the sheltered nest of Pre-Algebra

To which I clung for dear life left with no support system

Algebra one Algebra two all at once

My mind works in words, not numbers.

Tripping over my own feet, stumbling and fumbling like the klutz he accused me of being;

Everything was structured. Guidelines presented to me. Rules. Theorems. 

But how should I, could I, would I, avoid Mistakes?

My confidence quivering     Wavering

I easily learned the Times Table in elementary school: 

Mistakes were multiplied but forgiveness divided the infuriation.

I knew how to add and subtract fractions to dodge parts of dicey topics 

I knew how y equalled m x plus b and gave a linear path

I knew how to Cross Multiply   set up a proportion the simple stuff!

But everything I seemed to be doing now was wrong. 

These new concepts spun like a snowstorm

Or a tornado

That I couldn’t escape: not in class, and certainly not at home.

What I saw on my papers

“1.) Given the quadratic equation, how would….” 

Did not match up with the mess of a mind I had

Given this formula, strategy, method,

How would I solve and how would I deal and how would I cope

How would I allow my brain (and the parabola)

A little stretch or breath! by reducing the coefficient by a sliver, a fraction

How to sneak respite in a day, tip-toeing around my eraser marks

Red X’s 

Staining snowflakes crimson 

As strawberries in the summertime 

Spitting words at my algebra two homework, and

Insults rotating around the Unit Circle quicker than ever before, one radian after the other, and

Going off on tangents about my flaws in character, and 

Connected to the one presently addressed by some inversely twisted sine function, and--

 

Something I once loved so, so dearly--math. 

I don’t like to hate things, but now I hated math.

I don’t know how I passed that class with an A.

I felt so, so small.

 

chapter two

 

Geometry gave my life shape;

I had structure; 

I had purpose; 

I had order; 

I had even spacing.

 

Line segments morphed into my breath of relief, my breath of fresh air:

Apothems connected midpoints to the sides of polygons

and friends, to my existence. A newfound support system.

I could fall back on the words I had now:

I had a voice!

Still trying to immerse myself in words and sentences when the numbers became too overbearing 

I’d Side Angle Side or Angle Angle Side check myself 

Don’t let me slip up again!

This should be easy!

 

Proving the congruence of two triangles when I couldn’t prove my confusion and innocence.

It didn’t matter to him anyway. 

A polygon with only three sides still had an infinitely greater number of excuses than I did…

It began to not matter to me, either. After all,

What was wrong with my admitting to being wrong, even if I wasn’t wrong? 

If nothing I did was right to him anyway, then was it really wrong to wonder Who cares?

Finally,

Three-quarters of the way through the year

Proofs were finally over.

 

We were told in Geometry

That our lowest quiz score would be dropped each quarter

But I never got below one hundred percent after that.

 

Chapter III

 

Precalculus gave my life an opening, through which light constantly passed.

 

With precalculus,

My love for math came gushing back.

 

Bright and clear, like the sunlight, like a spotlight! , illuminating the stage, a dance of numbers

The pas de deux of integrals and derivatives and integrals and derivatives and integrals and derivatives

The progression across the marley floor, Bourrée-ing toward h approaching zero

Or infinity

And Riemann Sums that now added up 

And made sense

And gave you an area

With which you could feasibly work.

 

I proudly stomped the stage

Called the curtains

Danced the domain

 

Words and numbers flowed back and forth: 

Start in B-plus, balancé, balancé, waltz, waltz, tombé pas de Bourrée--

And spun together: 

--prep fourth position, pirouette, land.

Clean.

Beautiful.

Meaningful.

 

For the first time since fifth grade, 

My eyes and lungs and heart exuded as much pure zeal for the numbers

As they did for the words.

 

chapter 4

 

AP Calculus is giving my life passion:

Vigor hidden in vectors, pointing to parametrics and giving me compass bearings

And fervor found in factorials, counting the endless array of possibilities and ways to arrange the outcome.

 

Sometimes, I found shadows of math peeking through crevices

Sometimes, it lay out for me in plain sight

Like breadcrumbs leading Hansel and Gretel back home. 

What a fairytale this is!

 

Once upon a time, I learned Continuity and Limits:

Life will go on, even if parent functions will more likely diverge than converge.

Once upon a time, I learned Implicit Differentiability:

The Chain Rule dictates that there are consequences for everything.

Once upon a time, I learned Intervals of Convergence:

Happenstance will allow a small window where things might actually work themselves out

--that is, if the endpoints are checked. Distance isn’t always a bad thing.

Once upon a time, I learned Related Rates:

With careful calculations, the velocity of change can surprisingly optimize the bigger picture.

Once upon a time, I learned Displacement:

Travelling a long length of distance doesn’t necessarily mean movement from the original position.

Once upon a time, I learned Improper Integrals:

Even infinity big problems can be downsized and pieced together.

Once upon a time, I learned L’Hopital’s Rule: 

Everything over everything and nothing over nothing may seem impossible until simplified.

Once upon a time, I learned Taylor Series:

It takes numerous steps and many puzzle pieces to find patterns in a crazy life,

And sometimes there is no pattern to be found.

Once upon a time, I learned Ratio Tests:

Gauge a situation by analyzing alternating series and frequently giving the benefit of the doubt;

The best option could potentially be to write chaotic terms until things cancel and cross themselves out

--in the separated numerators and denominators.

Not all the tests work for a given situation and not everything can be cured or remedied; there are more problems than answers and more sickness than medicine.

Once upon a time, I learned Polar Coordinates:

Not everyone makes it around the full Unit Circle.

Once upon a time, I (actually still haven’t really) learned Rotational Volumes:

Sometimes, you can give your full effort 

And try your best

And persist

And you still won’t be able to figure things out, even if it is the night before the exam.

 

I learned that I am not a variable to be operationally defined by someone else’s words.

“And they lived happily ever after.”