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Sophia Cron

Professor Gilbert

English Composition 1101

19 June 2019

Essay 1

I heard my classmates flip their test papers over and sighs began to fill the room. My

stomach dropped; this one test could majorly affect my overall grade. It was the first assessment

of the year and I had no idea what to expect. Mrs. Berlean grinned eerily as she watched her

students pour their heart and soul into their work. “This is a high school class,” she threatened

her 8th graders.

I was warned by her past students that this was one of the most difficult classes I would

face, but I was not prepared for what was to come. Math came easily to me and I thought her

class would be a breeze, but it was the exact opposite. On the first day of school, she greeted her

students with a long-winded lecture about how her Algebra 1 course would determine our whole

career as a high school student. With this amount of pressure dwelling over me, I made it my

personal goal to do my absolute best in her class, but this mindset began to change when I got a

C on almost every pop quiz she gave us.

I wandered into her first period class and found my seat in the front of the class. I closed

my eyes, resting my head in my hands as thoughts raced through my mind, but I was brought

back to reality by a loud smack on my desk. I looked up and saw Mrs. Berlean, “You look a little

tired, what kept you up so late?”

I thought to myself, “Your homework assignment that you didn’t teach us yesterday,” but

I bit my tongue. I was only a few weeks into the school year and I had already lost my
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motivation. My overall grade was barely an A and I knew eventually it would drop, so why

should I try to maintain it?

Mrs. Berlean turned on the projector and pulled up the last lesson of the chapter. I blankly

stared at the front of the class as she began to teach. Her words went in one ear and out the other,

and it seemed impossible to understand what she was teaching us. At this point, math might as

well have been a foreign language. The lesson ended and the sound of books being slammed

closed filled the room, but she silenced us and pulled out her red marker. She slowly wrote on

the whiteboard that we had a chapter test the next day. I took a deep breath and looked down at

my agenda, already full of assignments from other classes. This test was just another task to add

onto my long list for that night after school.

The next day I trudged into school and slumped into my desk. I had reviewed the

material, but I knew the test would be rough. If her tests were similar to her quizzes, my grade

would soon be damaged beyond repair. She began to pass out papers on the opposite side of the

room and I watched my classmates sink in their seats. Finally, she gave me my test; I flipped it

over and glanced at the first half. I stared blankly at the page and searched for problems that I

knew how to do. My thoughts were interrupted with a faint sniffle. I turned to the person next to

me and saw tears rolling down my friend’s face and onto her paper. At least I knew I wasn’t the

only one who was struggling. The shrill sound of the bell pierced my ears and I looked at my half

completed test. Adrenaline rushed through my body and my pencil scribbled answers onto the

blank part of the test. I sighed and brought my paper to her desk, accepting my defeat.

I pulled myself out of bed the next morning and looked at my grades online. My heart

began to pound as I scrolled through all of my classes in search of math. Finally I found it and

saw that my grade had dropped drastically. I was too scared to look at my test grade, so I decided
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to wait until I got to school. I approached Mrs. Berlean’s room and glanced at my classmates

holding their tests covered in red ink, and I saw my test faced down on my desk. My test was

covered in Mrs. Berlean’s handwriting and my grade was marked at the top of the test. I got a

64% and it made me realize that I couldn’t let my grade slip in my most important class.

I became very diligent with all of my schoolwork, especially math, because it was my

biggest priority to improve my grade by the end of the semester. Every day, Mrs. Berlean would

start a new lesson, which I would review at home in preparation for any pop quizzes. Mrs.

Berlean was practically counting down the days until she could give us our next test, and I was

determined to do well on it. I began to go to tutoring with her during study hall if I needed help,

and I progressively saw myself improving.

Finally the dreaded day was upon me: test day. I had studied endlessly the night before

and I had never felt more prepared for an assessment. I sat in my seat and reviewed all of my

notes with some of my friends. I thought back to the first day of school when Mrs. Berlean told

us that this was a high school class, and it determined what path I would take in high school. The

pressure sunk in, but I knew I was prepared. Everyone stopped in their tracks as she approached

the front of the room with a stack full of papers. She walked around the room and placed a paper

on everyone’s desk. I flipped it over, recognizing all of the problems as I flew through it; I only

had difficulty with a few problems.

I waited until the next day to check my grades, and I noticed that my overall percentage

increased. I walked into class and headed straight to my desk to see my test; this time I was

excited to look at my grade, rather than feeling overwhelmed in regret. My test grade was an A,

and I realized all the hard work I put into the class was worth it. Throughout the year I continued
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to work just as hard to maintain my overall grade. Although some tests were harder than others

and I still found myself struggling at times, the end result showed that it all payed off.