I remember sitting in a cold and overly bright classroom when I was a little girl. There was a math test in front of me, and I can vividly remember feeling the anxiety well up within me. It came from the pits of my stomach and slowly crept up towards the back of my throat. Just as it reached my throat, cutting the circulation of air and blood, it branched out toward my extremities. Before long, I was consumed with fear. My mind raced, and the math problems sitting in front of me seemed to melt together forming an incomprehensible fusion of numbers.
I remember feeling the panic surface in my face, right behind my eyes. Tears began to form within the boundaries of my eyelids, pressing up to the rims. But I would not let them go.
Weeks later my grandmother attempted to tutor me, attempted to teach me how to solve those impossible math problems. At the time, I was determined to avoid learning those numeric laws, but it was my grandmother who pulled me out and really taught me the mathematics that my schoolteacher could not. All it takes it some patience and a clear understanding of the students' needs; this is what it took to teach me the impossible.
-- Jennifer Sherman, Florida Atlantic University