Anxiety Personification Report

AP: Anxiety Personified Americans spend thirteen years of their lives in public school. They are exposed to a variety of different ideas and subjects during these years. Some gravitate towards the realm of the humanities; while, others choose the world of math and science. I chose the latter. Science is a subject that builds upon itself the more you are exposed to it and it has captivated me for some time. It came easily to me. I barely had to try to achieve good grades. My passion for science had been unwavering, until one class caused me to question everything I felt about the subject. I decided to challenge myself and take Advanced Placement (AP) chemistry my junior year. I figured the class would be more of the same; I would not

Instead, she put every graded assignment into a bin on her desk. It was our responsibility to check and see when our tests were graded. I flipped through what felt like weeks’ worth of paper. When I found my equilibrium test in the middle of the pile, I immediately looked for the grade in the lower right portion of the paper. The sight of the big red sixty-five on my test dealt a crushing blow. It was far and away the worst grade I ever earned on an exam, and it did not help my feelings to realize that our tests were weighted to give each student at least a thirty percent. The realization that I really earned thirty-five points was met with the five stages of post-test stress. Denial: there was no way my grade was actually that low. Misplaced anger: it was my teacher’s fault for not preparing me well enough. In fact, it was science’s fault for letting me down. For throwing me into the deep end before I was ready, even if I told it to. Bargaining: I passed. I can still say I never failed a test in high school. Depression: how could science leave me stranded in a sea of failure, alone? I spent a lot of time alternating between anger and sadness, growing to dislike science with a burning passion. I had been good for so long, what changed? The answer to that question brought me to step five. Acceptance: it was my fault, and my fault alone, that I got that bad grade. It was then that I knew I needed to make a