Making the Grade

During the summer hiatus between middle school and high school, freshmen like myself heard terrifying tales about certain teachers. The most intimidating story of all was about the ninth grade math teacher whom every Smithtown High School student feared. It was Mr. F., harsh and austere, and, of course, the hardest teacher in Smithtown.

In homeroom, I sat nervously, totally unaware of the fate hanging over my head. I looked apprehensively at the teacher, who slowly but surely, handed out what would either mean freshmen ease, or freshman hardship. To my dismay, the big black letters of my schedule stared, mocking me. Right next to the course labeled "Math 9 Honors" glared the name, "Mr. Flynn." Partially in shock, partially in fear, and partially in disbelief, I closed my eyes. I prayed to the ischeduling g-ds,i pleading, wishing what I saw was just a joke. A cruel joke!

Sitting through math that year was the most incredible year of my life. Mr. F. taught in a way students like myself could only dream. I found myself frightened many times throughout the year, since Mr. F. expected near perfection from his students. But, he received it! He not only expected organization, but impeccable neatness. He even shook our binders out the second floor windows, and if anything fell out, it was our responsibility to fetch it, after his class.

Soon, math ignited my interest and curiosity. That year in math I learned to do something I had never done before- think. Mr. F. taught with such enthusiasm, and I could not help but get sucked into his words. I listened in class that year, the first time I had ever made an actual effort in school. I had always received good grades in the past; nonetheless, I never strove for perfection. Mr. F. made me try, and the funny thing is, I enjoyed the effort. I strove to perfection, and I would not halt myself until I reached that goal. A ninety-five percent no longer satisfied my expectations. I needed a one hundred percent for happiness.

Mr. F.'s class taught me to strive in not just math, but in all my classes. School became a top priority in my life, and I worked constantly toward my goals. I hold the values Mr. F. taught, and I use them as guidelines for academic flawlessness. As I look back on the past four years, I recognize my success in conquering academic challenges and achieving near perfection. Of all the academic endeavors I conquered throughout high school, Mr. F.'s class stands out the most.

After receiving a well earned "A" for a final grade in Mr. F.'s class, I realized an inevitable truth. Because of Mr. F.'s methods, my career goals are set. I plan on teaching high school math and becoming the most revered teacher in my district.

Years from now, when I can no longer mask the signs of aging, and when I have taught mathematics for twenty or thirty years, memories of the ninth grade math class will still linger in my mind. When I become the best teacher I can, I will not forget the hopeful adolescent striving for faultlessness in math nine honors. Most of all, I will not forget the admiration I possess for the man who gave me the most important academic experience of my life, Mr. F.

- Carrie I.