Poor Grades

I’m one of those persons that didn’t accomplish much in the classroom during high school. Instead, I majored in having fun. My report cards showed it. Had it not been for chorus, band, and P.E., my dreadful GPA would have been even lower than a underachieving 2.6. I just didn’t get some of the classes that I took.

During my sophomore year, I broke my left ankle during a football game. Saying it happened as I battle an opponent might sound heroic, but the truth is that I was knocked down carrying dry footballs onto the field. The following Monday our biology class had a test, and we were to draw the human heart. Mr. Lynch passed out sheets of paper on which students were to draw. I hadn’t cracked a book the entire weekend. Hey, I had been injured. At least that was the story to which I was sticking. I took the sheet of paper and drew a big valentine heart and pierced it with an arrow and wrote “I love you, Mr. Lynch.” The next day the tests were passed back, and the teacher had replied, “I love you too, but you still fail.” A large F was circled in red.

I can complete the four mathematical functions with little problem. However, when an X or Y is added, all understanding disappears. Algebra I was a pain, and I spent summer school taking it over. Geometry made no sense to me, and my mother grounded me for 26 straight weeks for making D’s in it. During my junior year, Algebra II was my cross to bear. The football coach gave 3 swats with the paddle for F’s on report cards, and I’d received my fair share. At the end of the semester, Mr. Graham took me into the hall. He told me that if I promised to NEVER take another math course that he would pass me with a D. Yes, I took the deal and never looked back.

I thought a typing class would be and easy course. The problem occurred when I couldn’t keep up with others during speed tests. Before long, I was cutting class and spending time in the band room. I did that for 13 days. When grade cards came out, an F was staring back at me. At the end of the school day, I walked to the typing classroom, rolled in the grade card, and typed a B over the F. It was close enough to keep me from being grounded for another long term.

In college, I became a dedicated student and maintained a B-plus average. I earned a Master’s Degree with only a couple of B’s and the rest A’s. I know how important doing well in classes and learning the skills taught in them are. My typing struggles to this day because I never increased my speed. Still, I probably wouldn’t change things if I went back. Sometimes experience is the best teacher.

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