Failing Seventh Grade Math: Atypical Thoughts of a 39-year-old

On this, my 39th birthday, you may be surprised to know what I am not thinking about.

I’m not thinking about aging.

I am not thinking about gray hair.

I am not thinking about creaking bones, obesity, 401Ks, buying a home, debt, stress, or anything else that a typical 39-year-old is supposed to be thinking about.

Do you want to know what I’m thinking about?

I’m thinking about flunking math in seventh grade.

I’m thinking about how that failure taught me to work so hard that succeeding is the only option, that determination and perseverance are verbs, not nouns….That you must do something to achieve anything.

I’m thinking…

Do we not fail and fall short and make mistakes and then come roaring back and obliterate all of those things that were once barriers?

Well, sort of.

When I was in seventh grade I couldn’t have been happier when I was told I’d be in pre-algebra. This would put me in class with all of the “gifted” kids. For years I thought I should be in honors classes, but my standardized test scores sucked. Anyhow, by the grace of something mighty, I scored well on my math placement test and would be among the brainier kids, where I thought I belonged.

Pre-algebra begged to differ.

I finished both semesters of the class with an F. An actual F x2!

I would be repeating the year of pre-algebra. Apparently I’d be right back where I was supposed to be.

Most of the summer, while I was swimming lap upon lap in the pool, I’d worry about pre-algebra. It didn’t matter much that I was trying to make junior nationals, or that I was spending time with my friends, or that life was so awesome…I worried. I studied my old tests from pre-algebra, which didn’t help much since I had failed all of them. I believed I’d come back and get an A. I knew I was worthy of it, I just had to study more.

When I got my schedule of classes, I saw that I’d have the same teacher. I almost vomited. I thought, “He already knows I’m a failure, how can I do better?” I then shifted my worry to his judgment. Maybe he’d fail me because he already knew I had failed before?

On the first day of class, my teacher had everyone introduce themselves and say something unique about their own character. When it finally came to my turn, I stood up and said, “Hey, I’m Jaala. I failed every test in this class last year because I was lazy. But this year I am going to get an A+ because I’m too smart to fail.” A few of my friends laughed. My teacher clapped; he knew I would do it.

That year, I got an A+ (x2).

Over the course of the year, the material didn’t change. In fact, it was exactly the same as the year before; what did change was my dedication. I decided to work harder, to get help, to study more, and to believe that I was smart. I became what I believed because I worked tirelessly for it. That year, when I was just 12 years old, I learned that nothing comes easily, and that to succeed, sometimes you first have to fail.

I think about this story, because here I am, at 39 years old, still making mistakes, still working on overcoming my weaknesses, still failing, still making comebacks.

Though much has changed, like, I’m an adult now with an incredible husband and a generally badass life, some things are the same.

Instead of pre-algebra, the thing that consumes me outside of regular life is GORUCK Selection.

Just like pre-algebra, the event hasn’t changed. In fact, it is pretty much the same as it was the first time I did it…48 hours of rolling around on the ground, water, screaming cadre, heavy weight, a ruck sack, lots of miles, a couple of sunrises and sunsets.

This time around, it isn’t coefficients and equations that float around in my head when I’m doing other things, it is rucking, and lunging, and running, and FINISHING.

To some people it may seem insane that I spend so much time trying to finish a silly athletic event. But to me, it is pre-algebra.

To me, this is my life arriving at the same place it has been many times, but seeing it, and attacking it, in a different way. It is the sum of all the challenges I have faced before, and a test for my character.  The only way to ace it, is with supreme dedication.

So today, on my 39th birthday, I guess I’m not thinking about typical things…

Today, I’m thinking about failing seventh grade math, and how that has helped me overcome every other challenge I’ve faced in life.

Today, I look at my life and feel gratitude for everything I have, all the people who love and support me, and all that I am able to do.

Today, I feel lucky to be able to harbor these atypical thoughts, and blessed to have lived, failed, and learned, for 39 years.