Can you believe that there was once a time in my life when I enjoyed math? Sixth grade at W. A. Perry Middle School was a year of mathematical knowledge for me. I could remember that year I enjoyed math to the fullest because of my favorite teacher, Mr. Alexander, the most neurotic math teacher I ever known. His love for math was harmful―and that is not an understatement. For instance, Mr. Alexander was so thrilled a students’ newfound understanding of a problem that with a burst of excitement he punched his fist through his classroom window. His undying passion for math persuaded me to create the same amount of passion for it also―with less pain, but as time has passed this passion has faded along with my math smarts.

“Courtney, I wish I could marry your brain!” was a declaration spoken from the mouth of a genius of a math teacher, Mr. Alexander, that came charging back into my memory in the third quarter of my AP Geometry class as I sat dumbfounded by the lack of knowledge I was apprehending from my then teacher, Mrs. Shackelford. By this time math had become my worst enemy and I hated it with a passion. Sorry about the negative diction I am professing towards math, but the truth is that I lost my love for it year’s ago―with the help of horrible instructors. Geometry always fascinated me and it was more interesting than Algebra. When I failed AP Geometry I was not surprised, but rather hurt because when I looked over the year I actually came to the understanding that I did not learn much. The only important piece of information in AP Geometry I learned were how to associate the differences between each type of triangle, calculate supplementary and commentary angles. Through my ability to comprehend a few vital components of Geometry in my freshman year I knew that when I retook the course during my junior year many of the assignments would be familiar.

I dreaded taking Geometry again I glanced at my schedule and there in bold letters read the name of my...