Surviving Failure
My first year of college was probably one of the most difficult times in my life. As desperate as I was to leave my parents and find my own way in the world, I had some trouble adjusting to living away from home. I met a few really cool folks that first year, and they are still friendships I value today. However, I’ll be the first to admit that I was really lost academically.
Studying and I never really got along, and even though I always grasped concepts during lectures and understood them, my recall was terrible at test time. Over the course of those first two semesters I dropped an english composition class (twice) before I had a chance to fail it. I missed my health final, and despite convincing the instructor to let me take it anyway, I failed the course. The rest of my grades were unremarkable.
I knew very well that I would need to take summer classes to make up for my shortcomings in the first year. There was no way I would ask my parents to foot the bill for that since it was my mistake that caused me to be three classes behind. I was going to need a job.
