I remember that day, from the moment I entered until I left. I remember the feel of the paper, the sounds, the knot in my stomach, the rustling of the other kids. I knew my strength was in math. I feared I would not be able to read the problems. The timer went off and I started the test. Nothing existed but the test. Under stress I have always done my best. Probably because I had to track and concentrate. It was like playing Chinese Marbles with my Grandmother. It gave me a good feeling, it calmed me. She had prepared me well to focus and track. With the math I used logic, I could not remember formulas, even for fractions, I just thought through them as I had done in grade school, algebra, and geometry.
Then the hard part, the reading. I was tense and wound up. I was so intent on doing it that I went faster, I did not know that was the trick to reading for me until a year or so later. The passages were short, that really really helped. But I had no idea if I was passing the tests or not, the time was always up before I finished each one. By the time the testing was over I was exhausted, discouraged, and already made plans of retaking it if they would let me. I went home with my head down, my eyes glued to the ground, and quietly. When others the next school day chatted about the test I said nothing. I was not going to set myself up for embarrassment or self revelation. How do you tell others of your weaknesses when they are still trying to figure out their own lives and future. They chatted as if it was only a test, but to me it was the ultimate test, the pivot point of my life, I would be a failure trapped in the world of trivia that I could not handle or it would be the door of adventure and possibly finding my future and destiny.
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