Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight
I raised my hand to answer Dr. Allen’s query to the class regarding the products of the reaction potassium perchlorate combusted in an oxygen rich environment.
“NO (looks at me with disapproval), carbon dioxide.”
Shot down once again. I glanced down at the floor, my face red with shame, avoiding any eye contact while cursing myself for missing yet another question. Finished with the today’s lesson, Dr. Allen proceeded to pass out the quizzes that we took last Friday. I reached out and touched the blue paper and with trembling hands and sweaty palms, I slowly turned the paper over and revealed with bitter disappointment the quiz grade, a disgusting red “77”. As I received yet another disheartening quiz grade in AP Chemistry, I am once again reminded by the painful reality of how my life has changed so drastically in the short time span of just two short-lived months.
Long, long ago, as I set foot into the clean, near sanctuary like atmosphere of Bryan Lobby on Move in day, I knew from the bottom of my heart that NCSSM would shape and mold me to be the student that I have always wished to become. My brother, a member of the class of 2009, had always enthralled me with accounts describing how great this school was, explaining how these five little letters have changed his entire outlook on life, and definitely will do the same for me. I always listened with fascination about the outlandish freedoms and responsibilities of the residential life, the numerous and seemingly infinite eye-opening academic opportunities, and the creative athletic events and sports. When I visited Sunny every two weeks at NCSSM, the school never ceased to stun me as a place that held so much talent, intelligence, and friendly people. As I absorbed more and more information, the satisfaction that my old school provided dulled with every passing day in comparison to the light of which he described NCSSM. I yearned to be at...