Slice of Life: March 26 -- Lessons Learned From Calculus

During the spring of my junior year of high school, I began the process of selecting the classes I wanted to take as a senior.  I was excited about preparing for my final year of high school and was planning on taking several advanced classes.  I had already accumulated enough math credits for graduation, and considering the numerous other difficult classes on my schedule, had not planned on taking a math course during my senior year.  It was then that I was approached by the high school calculus teacher.

She stopped me in the hall one day and asked me if I was going to take calculus.  I told her I hadn't planned to, and she literally begged me to take her class.   Well, maybe she didn't beg, exactly, but she did tell me that she had never had me in class and would love the opportunity to have me in calculus.  Looking back, I don't remember her having to do much to convince me.  I suppose I was impressed by her compliment, and despite my already difficult schedule, I enrolled in calculus.

I eagerly began my senior year of high school that fall.  Calculus was the last hour of the day.  Two of my friends were in the class with me, as well as ten other students, making calculus a class of thirteen.  My two friends and I stationed ourselves in the back corner of the classroom.  This was probably my first of many mistakes in calculus class, but nonetheless, I plowed ahead.  

The first two weeks I found myself comprehending what was being taught.  I was feeling pretty confident about my decision to take calculus.  Unfortunately, the main reason for my confidence was due to the fact that up to that point the class had mainly been a review of trigonometry, the math class I had taken my junior year.  I had no idea that my self-confidence was about to hit rock bottom.

I was lost the moment my teacher began introducing new calculus concepts.  While some of my classmates were asking questions about why the formulas worked, I was still trying to figure out what formula to use.  As a result, I made my second mistake in calculus.  I began to tune out my teacher as she went through these explanations, convinced they would only add to my confusion.  Adding to my difficulty was the fact that we had a homework assignment every day, however, none of the homework was due until the day of the test.  On a positive note, this meant I didn't have to worry if I couldn't complete that day's homework or if I didn't understand how to do it.  On the other hand, it also meant I never really knew how I was doing in class.

Feeling frustrated, I began seeking out opportunities to meet with my teacher for help with my homework.  I would arrive at school early to ask questions and work on problems.  I gave up my lunch hour to work with her.  I was playing volleyball, so I was unable to meet with her after school.  Unfortunately, the problems we were doing were so long and complex, I would only be able to complete one or maybe two problems each time I met with her.  Quickly, the homework began to pile up.

As our first test approached, I organized a "calculus party" with my classmates.  We all brought food and gathered at my house to study for our test.  Unfortunately, most of the time was spent completing homework rather than studying.  My classmates would try their best to explain the concepts to me and help me complete my homework in order to turn it in when we took the test.  

I don't remember what grade I got on my first test, but I vividly remember the grade I received on the last calculus test of the semester.  I had already decided to drop the class at semester, realizing that I had given it a try, but that calculus just wasn't for me.  It was the last day of school before Christmas break, and I remember my horror as my teacher laid my test on my desk.  Written in red at the top of the page was my score: 58%.  For the first time in my life, I had failed a test.  I was crushed.  

The truth is, I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw that score.  I honestly had no clue what I was doing in calculus.  My friends were my saving grace in the class.  They worked with me to help me complete my homework, doing their best to explain it to me and making sure I could complete the problems and get the right answer.  Unfortunately, I never really understood what they were explaining to me, and when it came test time, I was lost without their guidance.  I managed to get an A- in the class because I completed my homework (and because of some very generous extra credit).  

Little did I know that I would end up being a math teacher.  I used to tell this story to my sixth grade students to help encourage them and to let them know that even their teacher knew what it was like to struggle in math.  I also reminded my students that my choice to sit in the back of the classroom and my tendency to "check out" when I felt lost were poor choices that only added to my lack of understanding.  I've also used this story to help my teachers understand the importance of providing feedback to students.  Waiting to turn in all my homework on the day of the test gave me no chance to see if I understood the concepts we were supposed to be learning.  

I don't regret enrolling in calculus.  I learned a lot -- not about calculus, mind you -- but mostly about failure, how to deal with it, and realizing that it's okay if I'm not good at everything.  I think it made me a better teacher, too, and for that, I will forever be grateful.