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Ninth grade – Prealgebra again? Does this mean that I failed eight
grade math? I think it does – even
though no one really said that at the time. As I
recall, the decision for me to take Prealgebra
a third time was made during a
30 second meeting with a counselor who was
wearing bright magenta
polyester pants. (He wore them almost every
day.) Yes, I put my future in the
hands of a man who needed a fashion arrest.
This year went pretty well. The teacher was much better and I remember
getting some good grades. I really don’t
remember any of the math I learned
that year… But I do remember feeling pretty
good about being in the class, so
I must have been doing alright. Things were
looking up for me –
mathematically speaking.
Then came tenth grade – Algebra 1. The teacher was a funny little man –
the kind whose first and last names rhymed and
should have been the name
of a fancy Italian coffee. The main problem
was that, whenever we asked him
a math question, he’d tell us a World War II
submarine story. But, the real
entertainment was waiting for him to either
trip on his podium or spill his
coffee. Sometimes, we’d get lucky and he’d do
both simultaneously.
Continued on the
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