Being a part of advanced placement classes in middle school, I expected loads of difficult work to come my way once I entered Fenway High School. These advanced classes prepared me well to succeed in high school. Although I took these higher classes, I was never good at math. Math was my worst subject because I did not like dealing with numbers. I am a history and science type of student, I prefer learning these subjects rather than math. Although I struggled with math, my math grades were all around a B.
Growing up as an Asian-American, many people expected me to be highly successful in math. Stereotypically, Asians are well in math. Whenever I did not get correct answers on my math homework, people looked at me with weary eyes and a face full of disappointment. I tried my best to ignore these judgements but their facial expressions always replayed in my
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I was furious with my grade and tears were slowly streaming down my face, I despised my grade. Additionally, I had this pride of not wanting to ask for help because I felt that the teachers would judge me. I thought the teacher would think I was not advanced enough for the class and I did not belong in such an advanced class. The idea of requesting support often made me feel vulnerable and a sign of weakness. The thought of being rejected if I asked for help scared me, so I did not risk that chance by doing everything on my own. But I knew I could not survive high school math without requesting for assistance. I threw my pride out the window, stood up and slowly walked over to my teacher. She looked up from grading her papers, smiled at me and said “I’ve been waiting for you to come up to me to ask questions.” Seeing her reaction made delighted and not longer frightened to ask her for assistance with the math being taught. We briefly went over the test and for once, I finally understood Algebra