越挫越勇

From+teenink.com

As the teacher's lips opened to pronounce my name， I knew what lay ahead. She called me to the whiteboard. My eyes quickly looked around the brightly colored room； my mind tried to strategically1） plan. I melted into my seat right then and there.

Sitting in that classroom was the absolute last place I wanted to be at that moment. My heart pounded， my stomach churned2） and my entire body quivered with fear.

I was being called to the board to perform a long division3） problem. Long division was my most dreaded subject. I repeatedly put the numbers in the incorrect places， or forgot to add in the zeros.

I tensely lifted myself out of my seat. With every slow， shuffled4） step I took， I grew more and more nervous. My palms started to sweat. I could feel everyone's eyes glued to me， judging me silently.

As I approached the whiteboard， its massiveness intimidated me. It was challenging me sarcastically， for we both knew it would declare victory in the end. I heard the blonde-haired girl next to me uncap5） her marker6）. I copied it and twisted the cap off my marker. The teacher announced the equation aloud. I tried desperately to scavenge7） my brain and translate the gibberish8） she was saying. I looked at the girl to my right， and tried to copy what she was writing， unsure of myself. Despite my efforts， she went faster than I could understand， writing down what seemed to be foreign hieroglyphics9）.

My gaze again focused on the chicken scratch10） I had attempted. My work looked like how a baby sounds when it's just learning to talk. Impossible to understand. Why me？ Why couldn't I wrap my mind around this strange concept that all the other kids—understood？ Why， even when I tried my hardest to process these equations， did they come out looking like a few awkward lines？ These questions swirled in my head like whispered questions in the dark. The word why echoed in my mind， tearing at my heart with wickedness.

Why？ Why？

I held back salty tears. My thoughts came back into focus as the other girl closed her marker and pranced11） back to her seat. Hysterical12） with fear， I wrote some arbitrary numbers on the board， and rushed back to mine. The teacher read over our work silently. A hint of frustration came over her face as she read mine.

"Now， class， Susie did this problem absolutely correctly."

I glanced at the little blonde-haired girl， and she was beaming with perfection.

"As for Tara，" the teacher proclaimed， rolling her eyes， "Gosh， I don't even know what she did."

The class burst into snickers13）， and I felt my face turned red as I tried to sink as low as possible into my seat， in hopes of preventing them from seeing me at all. I wanted to cry. I was engulfed14） in humiliation.

But this memory from middle school is one I remember， surprisingly， in a positive way. This experience made me feel unimportant and very dumb. Yet it made me stronger， and gave me persistence. When I get a horrific grade in school， or am put down by somebody， I think of that moment and every single one of those whys that I asked myself. The twisting sickness in my stomach comes back—and gives me the motivation to answer all of those whys and persist until perfection， or as close as I can get.

當(dāng)老師張嘴叫我名字的時候，我就知道接下來要發(fā)生什么了。她叫我去白板那兒。我的眼睛飛快地掃視了一下色彩亮麗的教室，大腦努力計劃著如何應(yīng)對。就在那一刻，我一下癱坐在我的座位上。

那間教室絕對是我在那個時候最不愿意待的地方。我的心怦怦跳著，我的胃里翻江倒海，整個身體害怕地發(fā)抖。

我當(dāng)時正被叫到白板前解答一道長除法題。長除法可是我最害怕的題目。我老是把數(shù)字放在錯誤的位置上，不然就是忘記加零。

我緊張地從座位上站起來，拖著緩慢的腳步，每走一步，就變得越發(fā)不安，手掌都開始出汗了。我能感覺到每個人的目光都膠著在我身上，無聲地評判著我。

我來到白板前，它的龐大令我感到害怕。它在嘲諷地向我發(fā)出挑釁，因為我和它都知道它最終會宣告勝利。我聽到旁邊那個金發(fā)女孩摘掉了馬克筆的筆帽。我模仿著這個動作，把筆帽從我的馬克筆上擰了下來。老師大聲地念出了方程式。我拼命在我的大腦中搜尋，努力去理解她快速說出的那些令人費解的話。我看著我右邊的那個女孩，試圖照著她寫的東西抄下來，因為我對自己沒有半點信心。盡管我努力地抄寫，但她寫的速度比我理解的還快，而且她寫出來的東西看起來好像是“天外飛書”。

我的視線再一次回到我努力寫出來的“鬼畫符”上。我的作品看起來就像是一個剛開始學(xué)說話的嬰兒發(fā)出的聲音一樣，無法理解。為什么是我？為什么我就是理解不了這個其他孩子都能理解的奇怪概念？為什么即便我盡最大努力來解答這些方程式，它們看起來卻像是幾行笨拙的字呢？這些問題如同黑暗中耳邊響起的低聲疑問在我的腦海里盤旋。“為什么”這個詞回蕩在我的腦海中，惡狠狠地撕扯我的心。

為什么？為什么？

我忍住苦澀的淚水。旁邊那個女孩蓋上馬克筆帽，昂首闊步地回到座位上，我這才從自己的思緒中回過神來。我害怕到情緒極度不安，在白板上胡亂地寫了一些數(shù)字，就快步回到了座位上。老師一言不發(fā)地檢查著我們的解題步驟，在看到我的時候，她的臉上浮現(xiàn)出一絲失望的表情。

“好，同學(xué)們，蘇茜的解答完全正確。”

我瞥了一眼那個金發(fā)小女孩，她的臉上洋溢著完美的笑容。

“至于塔拉，”老師翻了一下白眼，宣布說，“天哪，我甚至不知道她寫的是什么。”

全班同學(xué)都迸發(fā)出咯咯的竊笑聲。我一個勁兒地往座位里縮，希望同學(xué)們完全看不到我，在那一刻，我感覺我的臉都紅了。我想哭，我倍感屈辱。

但這件中學(xué)往事卻奇怪地以一種積極的方式留在了我的記憶中。這次經(jīng)歷讓我覺得自己微不足道、愚笨至極，卻也讓我變得更強大，讓我有了鍥而不舍的毅力。當(dāng)我在學(xué)校考砸了或是被別人奚落時，我就會想到那一刻，想到我問自己的那一個個為什么。那種胃里翻江倒海的感覺再次襲來，給予我回答所有那些為什么的動力，讓我堅持不懈，直至完美，或盡可能接近完美。