Forget the formula

A student’s struggle in mathematics does not reduce him. , Photo Credit: Getty Images

I Still remember that every time it is washed over me that the teacher of maths started calling the students on the blackboard. For a moment I was sure that my memoirs would appear in my memoirs, which was titled “The Annexity Chronicles”. My palms would get cold, my legs would become hard. I would sit quietly, sticking to the notebook, while praying that she would not call me. But somehow, it was always my name. And the moment he called it out, I woke up with trembling hands, moving towards the front of the classroom, and faced like a wall, which is long for me to climb anytime.

I was not bad in school. But I was not good in the right things.

Maths and science never came to me naturally. I could not solve an equation in 30 seconds, such as the girl sitting next to me. I did not enjoy having balanced chemical reactions or remembering formulas. My interest bends somewhere else-towards the coordination, towards the subjects that make me feel, and express. Nevertheless, every day in school was felt like a calm reminder that the things I was prepared for were not things that meant. What was the matter that speed with numbers, accuracy with logic, and high scores were always referred to as “main subjects”.

Those who could do this – my classmates ran through equations or recited the table from time to time – they were celebrated as intelligent, bright, promising. The teachers remembered their names. Parents compared us to them. And I, unable to see myself in that mold, quietly questioned my ability. I used to sit on my desk and wonder what was wrong with me. Why couldn’t I understand a mathematics problem like my friend? Why did I freeze in front of the board, while others used to shine? I was a mother’s daughter who teaches mathematics – of course, should I have been better on it? Genetics, it turns out, is a sense of humor. That pressure quietly sat on my shoulders, felt unexpected but deeply. It was never about disappointing her – it was about disappointing the idea of ​​what a “smart student” should have seen.

As I grew up, I realized that the school was not just teaching us the subjects-it was shaping our thoughts of intelligence, success and self-values. And somewhere, it told us a lie: that some talents are more valuable than others. Art, music and drama are often considered as “additional” or “alternative”, rarely defines excellence or takes the same importance to the report card. And yet, what if your strength is there? What if you are a student who writes poetry that stops people, or choreography with instinct and spirit, or leads teams with sympathy and creativity? The reality is that the school rarely makes a place for such brains. The damage is not only structural – it is depth individual. When schools prioritize certain abilities on others, they do not just shape education; They shape the identity. I have seen many students including myself, doubt our value because our talent did not fit the mold. We were designed to feel that we were almost enough, but not enough. But intelligence is not a shape-fit-all concept.

The principle of Howard Gardner of many intelligence argues that there are many ways to be smart-speech, spatial, music, mutual, physical-anthetic, and more. The irony is that the world we develop do not work in this way. The success of real life depends as much on creativity, cooperation, adaptability and emotional insight as it does on logic and analysis. Nevertheless, schools continue to prepare students for a world that does not exist outside their walls.

If I can now talk to my little myself – who stood moving on the blackboard – I will tell him: your struggle in mathematics did not reduce you. Your fear did not mean that you lack intelligence. Your interests were not side stories for anyone else’s success – they were your story. And they matter.

Today, I still believe in education. But I hope that the idea of ​​a “magnificent student” develops. Someday, the schools will not only reward what fits the answer key, but also that he feels us, thinks, thinks, thinks, and sees the world differently. Because in the end, talent is not a formula. If it were so, I would definitely forget it. It has the courage to be completely, unexpectedly, when the system cannot measure it enough.

Self