Numbers do not define me! by Kushur

Numbers do not define me! by Kushur - September 2021 Scholarship Essay

"Elizabeth, Luke, Aidan, William, Audrey, Coleen, Jazlyn, and William, meet me in the halls when you finish the problem you are working on," said my seventh-grade math teacher. The most embarrassing moment of my middle school career started with a seventh-grade sticky note with few names. At that moment, I did not think much of it until a friend pointed out that only the "smartest" group of kids were called, and I was still in the classroom. I knew I preferred math over reading any day, and I could solve one hundred multiplication problems in less than three minutes, but I knew I was not exceptional. I felt like my seventh-grade math teacher had built an opposition towards me because I was of a different religion and race. She even created a name for me that I hate to this day, "kush," and there was nothing that I could do to fix that.
So as I got home, I started boiling pasta with rage, breaking the sticks as the hulk would; my mother stopped me as I was on the verge of tears. I explained to her, "I was not chosen to be in the higher math class, according to the stupid Diocese and my teacher!". My mother stated, "Calm down; I will meet with the teacher myself and find out exactly why."The following day, I woke up with a chill, putting on my uniform; I thought about all the new facial expressions the teacher would give me after meeting with my persuasive mother. Thankfully she did not make eye contact with me until I heard, "Kushur, can I talk to you in the hall, please. I spoke with your mom, and we decided that we will monitor your progress to determine your eligibility into the Pre-Algebra program if that is what you want." Accepting the challenge with a smile, I said, "thank you for the opportunity; I will do my best." Determined to earn my place, my mother bought the Pre- Algebra materials and taught me the basics herself, so I would be ready for the challenge of joining this prestigious group.
Weeks had passed until one day, as I was finishing up homework in class, my teacher called me over to sit with the Pre- Algebra group for a lesson. I could not sit still in my seat; I was so ecstatic! As I began doing the practice problems that my mother taught me, I truly believed that I could set my standards, not the higher authorities who do not personally know me and not the numbers on a piece of paper. I was genuinely excited to do math again and in a purple workbook this time!
我所愿sh I could say it was all rainbows and unicorns, and I finally learned my self-worth, but this was, in fact, the trial before the tribulation of my middle school career. Drafting the Pre-Algebra group for the local mathletes competition, we needed to designate a captain and backup captain. Amazed the next week, I was deemed captain, which led my teacher to smile towards me for the first time in a long time. Unfortunately, the moment of success did not last because I had also joined the softball team, whose first game would be the same day as the competition. Needless to say, I wanted to choose the softball game over the competition because of the chance to experience my first game and a home run.
I sat down with my teacher and backup the captain to discuss my decision, and before I knew it, my teacher looked me in the eyes and began screaming, "I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, JUST DISAPPOINTED!" All I remember is feeling a cold, scary chill throughout my body and becoming speechless to the point where I timidly said, “ok.” At first, sacrificing the game for the competition felt wrong, but after giving my fellow mathletes an ok pep talk, we competed without pressure. I do not regret my decision to have led a group of people who were just as discouraged, scared, and faithless as me at the time because we did our best despite coming second to last. If I did not fight for my spot on that team and step out of my comfort zone, I would not be where I am today.