Dearest mathletes,
You did it. You passed the Algebra 2 end-of-course test to demonstrate mastery of the most accelerated mathematics course in high school. Yes, the scores arrived wicked late, but who cares? You passed. You must feel like you could run laps around the 100 building or conquer the world to spread your math knowledge to dutiful constituents. I mean, you must feel good. What comes next? Do you see yourself walking toward the stately Phillips Hall in beautiful Chapel Hill to attend a morning of differential equations, a class that will solidify your standing as a competent math major among humble peers? I hope so. Do you see yourself at Duke, plodding along among strange stone gargoyles? I hope not. But if that’s your thing, then that’s your thing. Seriously, what could possibly be more challenging than what you have just done?
Well, a lot of things. That’s not the point.
You have pushed yourself over a hump, and you might not realize it because you have only begun your descent from this achievement. I know it’s a hump because it was for me. Allow me to tell a true story.
Once upon a time, there was a high school boy named Mr. Hermann who wanted to drop out of his Algebra 2 Honors class just because he did not get it.
“Stay with it,” said his teacher, Mrs. Long. He dropped the class and enrolled in a standard section instead. Things worked out OK between math and Mr. Hermann, didn’t it? That one cowardly moment did not prevent him from earning a math degree, did it? No. Things turned out OK.
My point is that you are a step ahead of where I was at your age. You have walked through a heavy door of potential into a decorated room of success ahead of schedule. As you look around this room, you will notice three things: a beautiful cake, windows and more doors. Ignore the cake. Look through the windows. Do you see the adjacent rooms of success? Now look at the doors. They are big. They might be heavier than the one you just walked through. Don’t push on them. You are not strong enough yet. First you have to do a thousand pushups. Go!
Just kidding. Pull yourself together! Slow down. Enjoy the moment. You just did something great. Look at the cake. Now write this down: I will eat cake and celebrate my enormous accomplishment Friday, March 7, at 2:15 in room 103.
What is success if you can’t enjoy it? I will see you again soon.
Your truly grateful teacher,
Me
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
The bad news first
Written at 6 a.m.
Back in the good old days, we thought we handled everything. We were in bands of friends that sometimes numbered in the teens, and we were determined to succeed and help each other succeed. And we succeeded.
But I can tell a difference now. I drank white zin, ate chicken enchiladas laced with cinnamon and listened to Elliott Smith to understand that our place is now smaller and, strangely, less controllable. Someone released us from the factories of thought and privilege. Now the luckiest ones make it in a place that our friends might stumble through, and the certainty on which we unknowingly depended is gone.
Written at 10 a.m.
Now I feel better since discovering that Duke lost a second straight game. After the first, Coach K threw a sucker punch at Carolina to make himself feel better. In the words of Roy, K should worry about his own team. He didn't take the good advice and dropped another one last night. Too bad. I hope he takes it like a grown man and stops embarrassing himself. http://www.charlotte.com/129/story/501256.html.
Back in the good old days, we thought we handled everything. We were in bands of friends that sometimes numbered in the teens, and we were determined to succeed and help each other succeed. And we succeeded.
But I can tell a difference now. I drank white zin, ate chicken enchiladas laced with cinnamon and listened to Elliott Smith to understand that our place is now smaller and, strangely, less controllable. Someone released us from the factories of thought and privilege. Now the luckiest ones make it in a place that our friends might stumble through, and the certainty on which we unknowingly depended is gone.
Written at 10 a.m.
Now I feel better since discovering that Duke lost a second straight game. After the first, Coach K threw a sucker punch at Carolina to make himself feel better. In the words of Roy, K should worry about his own team. He didn't take the good advice and dropped another one last night. Too bad. I hope he takes it like a grown man and stops embarrassing himself. http://www.charlotte.com/129/story/501256.html.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
The difference between losing and being a loser
Losing sucks. The only thing that makes it suck this much is the ease of winning. I am not talking about the season. Yeah, right. The season does not matter in the days following a loss to those guys. I mean taking three games in a row from a self-righteous team that, ahem, is a little more righteous in victory than defeat.
"Walk off the court when the game is over," Coach K said loud enough so the mic could pick it up and spill it across the nation. What class. What poise. May I rewind for just a brief moment?
We could always talk about The Foul. I went for 11 months as undecided on Henderson's blight. I watched it before last night's game on YouTube. I have no more doubt. You want me to describe it? Watch this instead: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C04fSlYTGzI.
Rewind a month earlier to Josh McRoberts crying at home. Is it too much pressure to play in the greatest rivalry on Earth? I hesitate to offer the following link because it makes me cringe to think about it. Life gets tougher than getting nailed by the Heels, Josh. Pull yourself together. Next time punch yourself in the face to at least draw blood like Gerald would. Poor guy. http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=josh+mcroberts+cries&search_type.
Some would say this post is a sore loser's display. Hear this. We lost. We lost fairly. It doesn't matter that Ty wasn't there. It doesn't matter that Wayne and Danny struggled nor that Quentin continued to turn it over. Those aren't excuses. Those are mistakes, and mistakes cost us the win. We lost. And further, Duke won.
Tar Heel fans, remember this fact. A little less than half the country actually enjoyed the outcome of last night's game because Duke didn't embarrass themselves with a hissy-fit loss. For America, they are damn cute when they win. It takes a team that beats them more than anyone else to understand what they really are. Losers.
Duke, bring it on from now until forever. You won't see our lip quiver. We won't need consoling. We won't dish out any season-ending cheap shots because we are Carolina. We lose with class and win with class.
Deal with it.
"Walk off the court when the game is over," Coach K said loud enough so the mic could pick it up and spill it across the nation. What class. What poise. May I rewind for just a brief moment?
We could always talk about The Foul. I went for 11 months as undecided on Henderson's blight. I watched it before last night's game on YouTube. I have no more doubt. You want me to describe it? Watch this instead: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C04fSlYTGzI.
Rewind a month earlier to Josh McRoberts crying at home. Is it too much pressure to play in the greatest rivalry on Earth? I hesitate to offer the following link because it makes me cringe to think about it. Life gets tougher than getting nailed by the Heels, Josh. Pull yourself together. Next time punch yourself in the face to at least draw blood like Gerald would. Poor guy. http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=josh+mcroberts+cries&search_type.
Some would say this post is a sore loser's display. Hear this. We lost. We lost fairly. It doesn't matter that Ty wasn't there. It doesn't matter that Wayne and Danny struggled nor that Quentin continued to turn it over. Those aren't excuses. Those are mistakes, and mistakes cost us the win. We lost. And further, Duke won.
Tar Heel fans, remember this fact. A little less than half the country actually enjoyed the outcome of last night's game because Duke didn't embarrass themselves with a hissy-fit loss. For America, they are damn cute when they win. It takes a team that beats them more than anyone else to understand what they really are. Losers.
Duke, bring it on from now until forever. You won't see our lip quiver. We won't need consoling. We won't dish out any season-ending cheap shots because we are Carolina. We lose with class and win with class.
Deal with it.
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