I Can Solve Problems: The Bad Grade
The test had bright red letters on the top: “See Me.”
After class ended, I shuffled up to Mr. Moore’s desk with my eyes on my feet. I knew he would be disappointed that I didn’t do well on the test.
“Jacob,” he said as he saw me standing in front of him. “I was surprised to see you struggled with this one.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I knew I hadn’t studied as much as I should have. I was playing on two different baseball teams because my dad wanted me to improve my throw. One of them was a travel team which meant long drives in the car or on a bus and late nights of practicing. It was difficult to keep up with my schoolwork and still work hard on the team.
“If you’re interested, I can offer you some extra credit,” Mr. Moore said. My eyebrows lifted in surprise as I looked up at my history teacher. I didn’t expect him to help me out like this.
“Really?” I asked.
“You’re a good student,” Mr. Moore said. “And sometimes things happen. So, if you want to improve the grade, we can work on it.”
“Yes!” I said. “What do you need?”
“A three-page paper,” he said, pulling out a book. “On the Industrial Revolution. This book will have the information you need.”
I looked down at the book in my hands and my heart sank. The book must have been at least two hundred pages. It looked almost as big as a textbook. How would I ever have time to read this and write a paper with everything else I had going on?
“You don’t have to read all of it,” Mr. Moore said, as if he could sense my distress. “But you’ll need to read a good deal of it to understand what it was about. When you write your paper I’ll expect examples from the book, so read it carefully.”
“When is it due?” I asked, though I knew I would regret the answer.
“Two weeks,” he said.
Two weeks? In two weeks, we would be heading into playoff season for baseball. In two weeks, I would be traveling across state lines to compete in a tournament that was very important to my dad and my team.
“Do you want to do it?” Mr. Moore asked. I looked back down at the history test and my horrible grade. That test wasn’t like me, and I knew I could do better.
“I want to do it,” I said. My history teacher smiled at me, pleased I had chosen to challenge myself.
And challenge myself I did. It was hard to balance my schoolwork with my baseball schedule, and at first, I didn’t do well. I carried Mr. Moore’s book in my baseball bag, but I didn’t take it out. Instead, I chose to laugh with my friends on the bus or watch videos on my phone. But every day I didn’t open the book I felt worse and worse. And so finally, as I settled in for an hour-long bus ride, I pulled out Mr. Moore’s book.
I had chosen a seat in the back of the bus where I might have more quiet. I was surprised to see that some of my teammates were back here to do the same thing I came to do: work on schoolwork. Knowing that others on my team spent these long bus rides reading or quizzing each other on multiplication tables made me more comfortable, and I spent the next three away games finishing Mr. Moore’s book.
Three days before the deadline I marched up to his desk to turn in my paper.
“You finished?” He asked as I handed him my paper and his book.
“I did,” I answered. “I thought I didn’t have any time for schoolwork, but I figured out that I actually have a lot of it. I just had to use it correctly.”
I smiled as I walked out of Mr. Moore’s classroom, confident that I had lifted my grade and regained my reputation as a strong student.