11:17 a.m.

Saturday, Aug. 05, 2006

Raw Slab

It's an easy test, just basic skills and competence. Won't take long, but you do get 45 minutes per section, though you probably won't need them. Some math and english and class skills. And so it was.

Still was a test though. A test that determined whether or not I could apply for a job. Failing any portion is a quick way to weed you out of applicant position for if you do not possess these skills now, how shall you be of assistant in the classroom? I passed them all, so the pressure is off and now it's time for the applying process, necessary paperwork and background, health checking. Stuff you gotta do to work with those who are pre-adult. I've been doing such work for about 2 full months now, so ability is not a personal question. How to figure out 1 3/4 - 2/5= is a personal question. Throughout my years of schooling I somehow was able to glaze over numerous teachings and exercises of fractions. I have some vague memory of processes that you should use like cross multiplying, having a common denominator, simplifying, however when to apply these is a much more fuzzy area. Fuzzy like a stuffed teddy bear. Cute and cuddly, all fuzz. Lots of fuzzy. My mind, when looking at a fraction problem, or problems, becomes fuzzy, churning out cute lil' fuzzy bears like a large scale factory making twenty bears for every child the world over. Except my fuzzy bears tend to be produced in a verbal fashion in the mind, something along the lines of "holy shit, crap, dammit, fuckity crap I don't like fractions." Some of these words silently slide out of my mouth, an almost unconscious utterance. I did this as I sketched out a fraction problem over and again on the glowing piece of orange paper, staring at me with so many number scribblings, the same problem spattered across the page, crossed out or incomplete as I would write down the problem, look away, and forget where I wrote the problem and what operation I was going to attempt. Frustration.

My teeth were close to being gritted, but I don't like the idea of swallowing my own shards. I wanted to pound on the desk, but I wanted to get a job. The more I tried to focus on the question the more my mind began to wander into thoughts of not passing this portion, mathematics, and feeling embarressed because I was given confident expressions by many others that this would be no problem. These give me confindence, yes, but me knowing me, I familiar with the academic experience of I, is fully aware of how often my mind would wander class after class. The math class I had where I would complete problems for homework however I felt like completing them and when checking the answers in the back of the book would find quite a discrepency, but not care. Sitting in another classroom going over fractions, waiting for the answers that I could quickly fill in, erasing whatever part of work I attempted toward an answer, but focused on how soon enough this will be over and I can look in my history book to look at the picture of raw chicken that gave me an odd hunger. I mean, this was a piece of raw chicken and I would stare at the picture and get hungry, thinking of eating it raw. Fractions were not nearly as enticing. Not then, not now.

So then, I passed all portions of the test. No problem. That was the reaction to my passing. No problem kiddo. Heh heh, did you notice my cussing rant and frustrated rubbing of forehead? Much to my own surprise I performed better, scored higher, on the math portion than english. While I have difficulties on certain portions of english, similar to fractions I glazed over much of the structure of sentences, but my confidence when being given an english test is a less of worry and more of, "no problem, can I look at pictures of raw chicken while I do this?" How did I not do as well on the english portion then? My guess is that there was more questions and I spent more time thinking over each question. Plus there were some questions that had to do with punctuation of a letter and none of the answers used the structure that I was familiar. English, as a writing structure, is a bit fucked with all the changes that happen in punctuation. Now you're suppose to do this and not this, the english covent has spoken. I remember when on a letter you would put a period after each capitalized letter of the state, then it changed to where the periods were deemed unnecessary but being told it didn't really matter. So I would still use periods because I could which made my mom angry. English is pretty stupid, so I keep to the structure I know because I care more that a message gets across rather than properly using a structure that is current.

And with that I say: Poetry in action!

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