You Can, If You Think You Can.

“You can, if you think you can,” her father said to her after she had been ranting for more than ten minutes about failing her end-of-year exam in mathematics. “You can do this. You aced your other subjects, you just need to believe in yourself. I believe in you. You have made me proud of what you have achieved so far. I know you can do this. I have been in situations where I have doubted my skills to do something and I think back to my father telling me, “You can, if you think you can,” and it spurred me on to overcome the problem. Whether it was learning a new skill or honing some skill I already had, but was not proficient enough. I now live by that mantra, and it has never let me down.”

“Yeh, but dad, it's so hard. I just can’t get my head around calculus. It is like a foreign language to me,” she whined.

“You learnt German, didn’t you? If it is like a foreign language, treat it the same way you tackled German,” he suggested.

“Okay, maybe not a foreign language in that sense, but like an alien from some far-flung planet arrives here that talked in clicks. It feels like that to me.” She said.

“Darling, I wish I had your brains when I was at school, but I didn’t. As you know, I left school at 13, just after my father died, unable to read, and because I couldn’t read, they thought the answer was to make me stand in front of the whole class and read a passage from a book. It didn’t work, and I left. Teachers didn’t understand dyslexia back then. I wish I had listened to his mantra at the time? I had to work a lot harder to catch up in the following years.”

“I do, and I know how your reading has hampered you. I also know you don’t wear it like a problem and more as a challenge, but I’m not you.” She said.

“Different problem, I know, but the solution is the same. Believe in yourself and you will get there.” He said. “You have the summer holidays. Think about taking extra summer studies. Is there a summer school you can take to help you?”

“Not in mathematics. There were not enough of us, so they are not doing one this year. I will study though over the hol’s. I am off to my room. There is no time like the present to start, I suppose. Thanks dad, catch you later.”

Janice knew what her father had told her made sense, but he didn’t understand how hard it was. She sat down at her desk and stared at the pile of mathematics textbooks in front of her. She was momentarily distracted by the storm outside her window, a different storm though to the storm brewing in her mind. She had always been top in her class in English and Computer Science, but mathematics was a different beast altogether. The basics were easy enough, but that calculus, algebra and trigonometry, she could not get her head around. This shadow loomed over her like a never-ending storm, threatening to derail her dream of a future in the computer science at university.

Her father’s words echoed in her brain: his mantra had become her mantra, but right now, it just felt more like a cruel joke. She sighed, “Guess I have to start somewhere,” she said to her polar bear sitting on the desk,” and flipping open her notebook to a page filled with half-finished equations and scribbled-out mistakes. Oh, why can’t I get this? she thought, frustration bubbling up inside her.

The doubts started in earnest in September as the new year began. She would be taking her ‘A-levels’ in under ten months. She felt as confident about passing as an elephant might feel at its chances of scaling Mount Everest.

Just walking through the entrance of the school was enough. Janice already felt the pressure of what the day would bring. Her teachers had high expectations for her, especially after her stellar performance in her other subjects. But just sitting down in the maths classroom or settling down at home at her desk to study, she felt it. That thought alone, that word, ‘mathematics,’ made her tremble inside, and her confidence crumbled into a million pieces. The numbers and symbols seemed to mock her, their logic elusive and unreachable. Why was it not like English, a set number of letters and punctuation that had an order to them?

“Janice, you’re overthinking it,” her best friend, Mandy, insisted one afternoon as they sat in the school library. “You’re brilliant at problem-solving in computer science. Mathematics is just another kind of problem to solve. You can do this. What is that saying of your fathers, You can, if you think you can. He is right, but first you need to believe you can do it. Hell… just believing it is possible will be a starting point. You believe your future is in computing, so now believe you can do what it takes to get you there.”

Janice nodded, but she wasn’t sure she did believe in herself. She still wasn’t convinced. She tried to study, but her attempts were half-hearted at best. She would open a textbook, only to find herself picking up her phone and scrolling through social media for hours, or aimlessly staring blankly at the page as if it was going to magically imprint its knowledge into her brain. You can, if you think you can, she repeated to herself, but they were just words. They felt so hollow.

The end-of-term mock exam that had been held in November seemed like it was just yesterday. The results were now in and they were a wake-up call. Janice stared at the paper in disbelief: a massive D almost jumped off the page at her as she stared it the result of the hard work she had put in, but she was not fooling herself. At best, it was a half-hearted attempt. But still, her heart sank at the result. She had never felt so defeated.

That evening, she sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. Her father, a quiet man with a gentle demeanour, placed a cup of tea in front of her as he always did when she was like this. After she just sat there saying not a word, he knew it was something that was affecting her deeply. He normally left it up to her to speak, ask a question, or for help, but he knew she needed a nudge this time. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

“I’m rubbish at math,” Janice muttered. “I’ll never get into university at this rate.”

Her father sat down beside her. “Yes, we know you are rubbish at maths, but one day you will tell me you ‘were’ rubbish at maths once,” he said quietly, and with feeling. “Janice, you’ve always been a fighter. Remember what I told you? You can, if you think you can. And you can. I know it with all my being. It’s not just about believing it; it is about you wanting to believe it, it’s also about proving it to yourself. That feeling of achieving what you set out to do. It’s not about proving it to me or other people. The greatest feeling you will ever have, is doing something for your own sake and knowing you have done it, even if no one ever knows. You will. You will feel that pride within yourself forever.”

Janice looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “But what if I can’t?”

“It's not the journey that counts; it’s the first step, no matter whether it is a mile or a million miles. If you don’t take that first step, you will get nowhere, still standing in the same spot, looking at the horizon. However, if you take that first step, it means you stand a good chance of getting to your goal,” he said. “You just have to take that first step toward believing you can do this.”

By January, there was a glimmer of hope. The new year had brought a renewed sense of determination. Janice was starting to believe in her father's words and those of her best friend, Mandy. She started to think she could turn things around in the six months she had left if she put her heart and soul into it. She began attending extra math tutorials after school, after asking her teacher, Mr Thompson, for help.

He was honoured to help any student who asked for his help. This was not only for the sake of the students but also, to show those teachers within the school too eager to write students off at the first opportunity. He enjoyed nothing, like showing those naysayers that every student had a talent, and that was the talent to learn if they wanted it bad enough. Mr Thompson was patient and encouraging, and his praise began to chip away at her self-doubt. He always believed that the first thing to teach is to get rid of doubt. It was like a tap to the brain that was turned off, so the answer was to get that tap turned back on and allow the knowledge to flow in.

“You’ve got a sharp mind, Janice. That is obvious to me, but you need to see it too,” he said one day after she finally solved a particularly tricky calculus problem. “I have every confidence you can crack this. You just need to trust yourself.”

Her next mock exam was a turning point. She was nervous when she went in, but then she thought about the people in her life that had confidence in her. Mandy with “You can do this.” Her teacher, Mr Thomas that said he had confidence in her. And of course, her father that always had her back and encouraged her at every stage, and not forgetting his mantra. “You can, if you think you can.”

She scored a ‘B’. It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly progress. And for the first time, the mantra felt real. And now, rather than the platitudes she had uttered, she really believed in those words. You can, if you think you can. She was starting to believe it.

March brought new meaning to knuckling down. Janice knew she had to make a lot more sacrifices than she had in the past, and this time, she meant it. She deleted her social media apps, muted her group chats, and put her social life on hold. She had taken away the temptation that had always got the better of her. Now the option to take a few minutes to answer messages was gone. Her days became a blur of studying, practicing with past papers Mr Thomas gave her, and attended every revision session that was offered. She even started waking up an hour earlier to squeeze in extra study time before school, though her father thought this excessive, but said nothing.

Her friends noticed the change. “You’ve become a machine,” Mandy joked. “Hell, you have become a recluse. Take one day off and come out with us to the lakes this weekend. We will have fun, I promise. It will get that brain of yours thinking of something else other than study. Michael is coming!”

It was a nice thought, especially with Michael there, but Janice didn’t mind missing out. She had a goal. She was focused now, driven by the belief that she could do this. And she was going to do this. She had the rest of her life ahead of her to spend with friends and, of course, boys.

May was upon her in what seemed like a blink in time. The Exam loomed. She spent the last few days and nights cramming as much in her brain as she could; she was exhausted. Two days before the exam, her father, as they sat down for breakfast together, something they did every morning, he informed her he was calling a halt to the late nights. “Darling, if you haven’t got it cracked by now, this weekend won’t make any difference at all. You can't walk into the exam and end up sleeping through it. You need a fresh head, with ample sleep to enter that room, and you know this. We are going out for the day, no arguments, we are going out and having some fun, like it or lump it.”

She was not happy about being dragged out to God knows where; she didn’t need this. There were just a few things she wanted to brush up on before Monday, the day of the exam. When they pulled into Leeds out-of-town shopping centre, her thoughts of being dragged around endless tool shops really did it for her. That was not her idea of fun.

How wrong she was.

Her father handed her a small red purse. “In there you will find two hundred pounds, spend it wherever you like, but save enough for a swimming costume, though, I am going to take you to the place I met your mother.”

She was speechless.

They walked in together and he pointed out a café saying, “you will find me in there when you have finished.” And walked into the café.

Stunned at what he had said, something that was totally out of character, she was at a loss as to what to do, and what she was going to spend the money on, even. In the end, she bought a pair of jeans, a top, and some underwear. In another shop she bought a swimsuit, something she surely needed, her existing one she had grown out of by last summer, plus it was a school navy blue. Yuck. This one was her choice.

Her father was still sitting at the café almost two hours later, sipping on a cup of tea. After an early lunch, they drove to Robin Hood Bay. “You see that coffee shop? Well, your mother was walking out of there as I descended those steps. I lost my footing, and I crashed into her. Hard. We ended up in a heap on the floor, tangled together. I helped her over to those benches, I say I, but several people helped.

The hotel owner brought us both out a glass of brandy and a cup of tea. We sat there talking for hours. I was in love, totally, hook, line and sinker. I didn’t stand a chance. I was hers, and she sensed it. We were facing each other over the table, but that didn’t stop her. She reached over, grabbed me by my shirt and lent in, kissing me like I had never been kissed before. The rest, you know.”

“Yes… I have heard about the skinny dipping at midnight, and mother proposing to you at four in the morning. But why is it we are here today?” she asked.

“It was twenty years ago, to the day, our lives crashed together. She died too young. It was not fair. She would be so proud of you. As proud as I am, then some. You have grown up into a beautiful girl with a sensible head on your shoulders, and I love you to bits. Come here, give your old man a hug before I start blubbering.”

They stood there in the street for an age, not caring one bit they were the centre of attention.

After sitting for a while in the same seats as those of twenty years ago, they changed into their costumes and went for a swim in the sea. Then took a leisurely stroll before sitting down to an evening meal at the hotel.

Returning home exhausted at almost midnight. They both went to bed. Janice spent the morning in bed the next day, taking her father's advice and having a lazy day watching Netflix together.

The day of the A-level mathematics exam arrived. Janice’s stomach roiled as she walked into the exam hall. She took her seat, her hands trembling as she opened the paper. For a moment, she sat there unmoving; she wanted to just leave. But then she heard her father’s voice in her head: You can if you think you can. That was all she needed. The time went in a blur, but she had answered all the questions.

It was August before she got her results. The wait had been excruciating. But now she was sitting on the wall outside the school with the envelope in her hand, unable to open it. She didn’t open it then, instead she walked home and sat at the kitchen table and waited for her father.

When he walked in and saw the envelope on the table, and Janice, looking a little worried, he asked. “How bad was it?”

“I don’t know yet. I thought it was only fair that my greater supporter was with me when I opened it.” She said.

A tear formed in his eye at her words. “Well, I guess we better get it done then. Are you ready?” he asked as he sat opposite her.

“NO.” she blurted out. “But here goes.” She opened the envelope, and with her eyes closed, she placed the results in front of her father.

“I think you need to open your eyes,” he said calmly. “You need to see this.”

Eventually, she did. She could not believe it. All that work she had put in had paid off. Not only had she passed the maths exam with flying colours; she had an A* for each and every one of her exams.

“Thank you, dad. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have never even tried. When I have children, the first lesson I will teach them, is your mantra, “You can, if you think you can.”