Math Miracles

Anyone can be a teacher, all you have to do is graduate college and get a job. Sounds simple; in reality passing the math praxis would prove daunting to this student who hated math and ponders why 3 X 2/3x + 4 = ? matters. I need to know the why, those silly terms meant nothing to me. I could not wrap my mind around the why. Every time I asked a teacher, mentor, classmate, tutor the why question, I would try to make it clear that I just need to know why I would ever need to learn this? They looked at me like I had 3 eyes in my head. I would always walk away sad that this was another defeated attempt to learn something I never would learn.

After taking a term off in college to reflect and refresh my brain, I re-enrolled and took the final classes in my educational endeavor. I was frustrated, I had taken my certification tests and passed them all, what I struggled with is the math portion, being a high enough score, the scores had to be high like your major and minor certification scores, they had to be a score of a "B" or better. Again the questions came- why do I have to know this? I am teaching history and english, why do I need to get a high score in math?

I signed up to take the test again, but this time I began thinking a little differently. I asked my tutor why I had to learn this? To my surprise this time the answer came: "You will be a critical thinker if you can figure out the formulas." Hmmm.... so if you are not a "mathy" person- you are not a critical thinker? That irritated my soul. but, I took the test and I waited for the results... they were again too low a score.

I left that day after the 6th attempt to pass the math praxis feeling defeated. I had a change of heart, but was still unable to change the score. I had to wait 30 days to take the test again, I was feeling really discouraged. I decided to take an art class- it had been a lot of years since I had taken an art class, I remember being pretty decent in art- at least creative. I took the class, there were many retired teachers in the class. I loved listening to their stories, one evening they asked me my story. I was a bit nervous- why was I here, it felt like an AA meeting of sorts. I relented to the question, telling them why I had decided to take art classes. I explained to them that I had become discouraged spending thousands of dollars this late in life to become a teacher- only to lose sight of the dream, because I could not pass the math praxis test. A test that I believed was a waste of time, when would I ever need to know the concepts in math to teach history? They listened; one teacher paid particular attention to my story. That week she went home and invited her husband to class the next week.

Thursday night came as I was setting in class he came in with his wife, canvas and paints. She introduced him and said that he was a retired math teacher. I became nervous- uncomfortable and quiet. The class was as usual, chit chat, then he asked me to hear my story; I reluctantly shared- his wife spoke up, and said she will be a great teacher- she can do it! He asked me if he could tutor me- I nervously said yes. We left that day and I felt a bit excited, he reminded me of my brother, a kind sole with a heart of gold- I could learn from him I was positive.

The next week he came in to the class walking past me he quizzed me verbally on math terms. I immediately turned beat red, my face got hot, my throat thickened, I began mumbling, about to faint, when he said relax Mary- this is not a test! I calmed down, he said you have too much anxiety. I explained that I had taken the test six times and never earned a high enough score to become certified. He said as a matter of factly- that is all about to change- and he threw a duffle bag up on the table and said you go home and read this, I will meet you at McDonalds on Saturday morning at 10:00.

I quickly replied OK! I was not about to disappoint my new friend, mentor, teacher- fatherly figure man who reminded me of my brother. I took the bag of curriculum home, and thought I would look at it in the morning. Curiosity got the best of me, when I arrived at home- I opened the bag and inside was curriculum from 5th grade. WHAT??? I could not believe he gave me 5th grade math! My stomach ached, my heart felt heavy palpitations, my throat swelled, I began to cry as a I opened the book. I was instantly transformed to my 5th grade class some 30 years prior.

I had missed a lot of school in 5th grade- my grandparents were sick and ailing, at the end of their life. Being in school was the last thing I wanted to do. I could not focus, I was sad, homesick- I just wanted to be with my mom. I remember having to go to school after pleading to stay home, as I walked into the class dragging my feet, the teacher said: "Hello Mary Mudd, that's what I am going to call you from now on- you've missed so much school, your going to be stuck in the mud!" I felt like I was on stage and the whole class was snickering. Opening that bag was a breakthrough- I realized that she was holding me back. I had no idea I was stuck in 5th grade math class. This mentor man- knew, he could tell by those uncomfortable math questions he asked me, they told him a story. A map of what I needed.

Saturday morning I shared with him my feelings and what memories they conjured in my mind. He said: "well, I have no doubt you can do this, we will work until you are comfortable enough to pass." He made me feel so comfortable, we worked for several hours to get this. He quizzed me a little while, explaining that he would meet with me again, but that he thought I had a breakthrough with the epiphany about the stuck in the mudd slogan the teacher had given me. He said schedule your test- I will help you until you take the test.

I scheduled the test. The day of the test arrived, I did all the things I needed to do to prepare, including eating oatmeal, peppermints, and water. I had prepared a long sleeve t-shirt to wear, full of graffiti, I added a few terms to my sleeve with my sharpie marker- in case I panicked. I thought they blended well with the artwork on the shirt, no one would ever know. I put the shirt on, when all of a sudden I felt a strong sense in my spirit- telling me NO. Put that shirt in the closet, trust me. Hmmm.... I felt a tinge of guilt, and a stirring in my heart and mind to hang the shirt up and put on my white blouse. I finished getting ready, drove about 30 minutes to my test spot, found a close parking spot in a lot full of cars, my first miracle. As I shut off the car, I prayed that I would be able to sit by a window- to help me relax a little better than being surrounded by people on both sides. After praying I pulled myself together with my pencil and ID; I walked into the building with such a confidence- it was amazing, after signing in, I realized the whole room was packed. It would be a miracle if I were to get a window seat. I walked in the room, the woman said your seat is on the end to the right- the last seat. I immediately began to smile. As I approached the seat, i pulled out the chair and could not believe the answer to prayer was more than I asked for. The seat had a personal fan as well. I felt so blessed, I knew I was going to do well.

I hot the check your score button and waited- PASS 170. I had passed with a higher score than my major or minor. Tenacity, mentors, miracles and godwinks flooding through my mind. I could not wait to share my miracle! I passed- and owed it all to the mentor with the patience of JOB, that teacher who showed me that I could do it! The teacher who cared.