The air was frigid; my nose, a shade of dull scarlet, could have chilled bones to the slightest touch. The grass was covered in a light mist that glistened off the cool morning haze. The sky painted my vision with the colors of orange and pink; they seemed to be dancing together. My eyes were squinted; the bright sun inched itself up to meet me. I found my arms clutched close to myself, the small jacket around me provided only minimal warmth. As I entered the car, I felt instant relief from the crisp air. I gently wiped off the fresh drops of dew from my black flats. My mind flashed to one idea. Today could change everything. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the loud revving of an engine.
“Are you buckled
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Even if you don’t place we will still be proud of you.” My dad’s words seemed to be sincere. I felt instant relief as I took a deep breath; my body received the much needed rush of oxygen. I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. As we pulled out, I was focused on only one thing, the Math Olympics. The Math Olympics, a competition where students grade three through twelve answer math questions and whoever had the most completed with the highest accuracy wins, was a nerd’s dream activity. Having been a math nerd, I was excited; but I was also terrified. My teacher, Mrs. Bricker, had been preparing me. Every night for two weeks prior to the competition she gave me twenty practice problems to solve. I would get them back, fifty percent or more incorrect. I made stupid mistakes; forgetting to carry the two when multiplying, not moving the decimal point when performing long division. Those mistakes were not acceptable. I knew that if I wanted to place, I had to concentrate and be …show more content…
I jerked my head up. My feet trudged across the floor until I arrived at my seat. I carefully sat down. Rough goosebumps surfaced on my skin almost immediately. Unsure if they were nerve related or not, I took a deep breath. Ten minutes later, the teacher passed out pencils and scratch paper as she explain the directions. “You have two hours to finish, good luck everybody,” she exclaimed with an encouraging smile on her face. I glanced at the clock, 8:57. After having took a mental note, my fingers grabbed for a pencil that laid vertical on my desk. I glanced at the page and observed the first equation. I tightly gripped the tough grooves of the pencil. I quietly began to solve the math problems; I was hoping for the
I have a great affection for math. I enjoy math, since it is challenging and requires a lot of thinking. There are always multiple ways to solve any type of math problems, and I always get a feeling of accomplishment when I find the correct solution. In sixth grade, when I first heard of the Math Club, I immediately registered. The teacher told me that I was the only one and she needed more members or the club would have to be cancelled. Worried, I recruited about ten of my friends to join the Math Club. Hence, she named me as the team leader. Participants in the Math Club competed in multiple math competitions. I was chosen one of the ten students that represented my school at the Torrance Regional Middle School Math Competition. That year, I received a certificate for the highest point total for the Math Olympiads competition at my school. In addition, I placed third in the AMC 8 and my score was among the top five percent of all participants. Participating in math competitions has given me the challenges that I am always looking for, taught me good study habits, and how to handle pressure.
I woke up feeling exhausted and wondering what the day has in store. The giant sun rose into the sky-high above and the sea shimmered in the sunlight as the first rays of morning sun tiptoed through the sand making its way towards me. The light ran furiously and parched my closed eyelids as it poured in a white image. The sounds pounded my head like a construction site. In between this time, I prised open my eyes and saw a bottle of VB lying on the carpet and next to it was an ash tray full of cigarette buds.
We all remember these grey gloomy days filled with a feeling of despair that saddens the heart from top to bottom. Even though, there may be joy in one’s heart, the atmosphere turns the soul cold and inert. Autumn is the nest of this particular type of days despite its hidden beauty. The sun seems foreign, and the nights are darker than usual enveloped by a thrill that generates chills to travel through the spine leaving you with a feeling of insecurity. Nevertheless, the thinnest of light will always shine through the deepest darkness; in fact, darkness amplifies the beauty and intensity of a sparkle. There I found myself trapped within the four walls of my house, all alone, surrounded by the viscosity of this type of day. I could hear some horrifying voices going through my mind led by unappealing suicidal thought. Boredom had me encaged, completely at its mercy. I needed to go far away, and escape from this morbid house which was wearing me down to the grave. Hope was purely what I was seeking in the middle of the city. Outside, the air was heavy. No beautifully rounded clouds, nor sunrays where available to be admired through the thick grey coat formed by the mist embedded in the streets. Though, I felt quite relieved to notice that I was not alone to feel that emptiness inside myself as I was trying to engage merchant who shown similar “symptoms” of my condition. The atmosphere definitely had a contagious effect spreading through the hearts of every pedestrian that day. Very quickly, what seemed to be comforting me at first, turned out to be deepening me in solitude. In the city park, walking ahead of me, I saw a little boy who had long hair attached with a black bandana.
I lived in a wonderland of games, toys and friends until a certain examination came my way. It was my first real math exam that changed everything. My father, recently returned from New York City, did all he possibly could to train me in the ways of addition and multiplication but to no success. I failed that exam. I added instead of multiplying. I got a grade of 74 in math so I missed my shot at becoming one of the Top Ten. I finished 14th in my class.
The sun trickled through the thick green leaves. I felt the grass tickling my bare arms and legs. I closed my eyes while I listened to the melodies of the birds. Their beautiful music lulled me close to sleep. A breeze blew across the yard.
It was amazing as just a few hours ago, it had been a blue day, with scorching heat that made you claw out your hair in frustration but now, it was tranquil and luring. It burned away the dreariness of the day; the monotonous robotic work performed by me was long forgotten and deep buried under the covers of obliviousness. It made me amend my decisions and just array everything out. The glittering clutters of the marvellous ètoiles beckoned me towards them.
As I stepped out into the gleaming sunlight, I had to shield my eyes from the sudden glare that came to rest upon my eyes as I moved out of the shadows of my family’s dimly-lit garage. After not seeing the sun for over two months, I paused to muse about how unusual it felt to finally be under the sun’s rays again, along with how strange it was to venture forth into the environs without anything related to winter wear protecting my sensitive skin from the biting cold. It was a Monday afternoon, and the weather app on my phone brightly informed me that we would enjoy a high of eighty-one, and the lowest temperature, barely falling below fifty seven. I had to stop and think back as to why I had ever complained about the weather here in Arizona, but I suppose experiencing what the other end of the meteorological spectrum has to offer really puts things into perspective. After I had my moment of adjustment, I climbed into the passenger seat of my mother’s Mazda and after she had finished her never-ending feud with the GPS system of the vehicle, we began the journey to our restaurant of choice, The Farm Kitchen.
The sun began to rise as I stepped onto a straight, wide road that needed repaving. I wasn't really sure why I was walking on it or where I was going. All I knew was I had gotten up this morning and decided to go for a run. My usual morning run started out normally. I was jamming out to my playlist as thoughts raced through my mind about how the day would play out, and then I felt this urge to change the direction I was going.
In middle school I struggled in math. I was put into the slower classes and mocked for it. In eighth grade I had a different teacher for math. I walked into her classroom confused and nervous. I was surprised to see that she taught in a way that didn’t degrade me. I went from fearing to ask questions to asking them every time I was the slightest confused. I started getting all A’s. Something had finally clicked in my brain. I was learning faster and easier. My freshman year I was in Math Foundations. I was still in the slower classes, but I didn’t mind because I was not too confident I was smart enough to change courses. I had all A’s on my assignments and quizzes. I talked to my parents, my math teacher and my guidance counselor
I felt a shock go through my body as I numbed up. “Wh wha what did she want?” My math teacher Mrs. Armstrong was worried about me and the fact that I do all the work in class and homework and when it comes time to take a test I fail. My teacher was willing to let me retake my test.
The three different activities I like is bicycling, camping, and hiking. I got interested in camping because, you get to see the outdoors, and see the stars, and eat burnt marshmallows. This is very fun. Also, because this is a group activity. I also got interested in hiking because, it keeps you in shape, and its just plain fun and it is a dual activity. I got interested in bicycling because, you get to travel around in it, and it keeps you in shape, and it is very fun. And, because it is an individual activity.
We had just come from the beach, walking carelessly on the road. My eyes glanced to my side to see Kacey with sand in her hair and droplets of water slithering down her forehead landing in her eyelashes with a flutter of her eyelids. The sun was beaming down on my back through my damp shirt, getting dryer and dryer by the second. The trees lining the road shaded us, relieving me from the blasting heat every few seconds. The wildlife and greenery around were unfamiliar as my eyes ran over every single leaf and every single flower.
It is a sunny morning. I am home with my stepfather and brothers. The clouds seem perfectly shaped as they swivel in the sky. The birds whistle a tune no morning has heard and the trees dance as the breeze whips. I am stuck indoors, and I am missing what seems to be the perfect day. My brother is leaving to head to basketball camp. My other brother is heading to work. Today was going to be a day with just my stepdad and me. He prepares breakfast for me, and the smell captivates my senses. I stop staring out the window and head to the bathroom and then to the table to eat. This is the perfect day.
I’ve also participated in several of the monthly California Mathematics League contests. These experiences have taught me that it’s not enough to simply learn a mathematical concept because there’s rarely a simple and direct approach to solving these problems. I have to utilize a variety of the concepts that I’ve learnt and creatively make use of them in order to solve a problem, which is has direct application in real life. For example, learning to solve for “x” isn’t just to find “x” because it’s only part of a step to solving an even more complex problem. At first, I only got one or two problems correct out of six, so I practiced the problems that I got wrong and reviewed the ones that I got right.
Immediately, I knew I had let my teacher down, because I literally did the exact opposite of what she had warned. My mind struggled to comprehend the seemingly endless stream of dots and lines on the papers. Throughout the song, I heard mistakes I had never made before. Again, my mind swirled with thoughts of, this time, pure embarrassment.