by Robin Freeman-Alsoffi February 6, 2022
Most successful people will agree; failure or the fear of failure pushes us towards success. So, get up, brush yourself off, and move on.
– Easy to say, right?
In my 40s, my confidence hit an all-time low. I was restless and angry. I wanted more but had not found the inner courage to finish my higher education. Yes, I was a hard worker, reliable as the day is long, but my chosen jobs didn’t challenge me; they were safe. I enjoyed reading and learning new things, but fear and self-doubt were my biggest enemies.
Up until that point, I placed no value on myself; instead, I spent my life investing in everyone else. With self-improvement as my goal, I devised a plan:
- Start a journal of goals from the smallest to the largest
- Read success stories about people you admire
- Post snippets on the fridge—Benjamin Franklin’s 13 virtues of character-building, with #4 “Resolution” front and center
- Stop overthinking everything and just face what is in front of you
In 2012, my new journey began. I chose Vincennes University, a smaller Indiana institution. My immediate plan was to obtain an A.S. degree in Sociology with the highest GPA possible. By Summer 2015, I was right on task with one final semester to go. But an obstacle, one I had purposely evaded, was about to derail everything, the dreaded math course. I was terrified, and there was no way around it; I either passed college algebra or walked away from my degree.
Unfortunately, I only knew basic math and had forgotten how to devise fractions. Being stubborn and frugal, I would not pay for a non-credit remedial math class. Time was running out. So, the plan of action began:
Challenge #1: Learn math skills quickly.
Challenge #2: Pass the required placement exam to enroll in college algebra.
Challenge #3: Pass college algebra to graduate
Challenge #4: Overcome fear of not maintaining a 4.0 GPA.
First, I purchased a cheap, grid-based composition notebook. Second, I found a website, Khan Academy, which taught an enormous number of skills for free. Kudos to Khan Academy, their donors, and Salman Amin Khan, the founder known as Sal.
Khan Academy offered assessments to get you to the proper position in your learning path. Why learn what you already know? I think I placed at a third or fourth-grade math level. I know, not great for the psyche, but I carried on.
The learning method at Khan Academy was fantastic. The lessons were set up as challenges, like a game, with just a few questions per segment. They provided short lectures to explain each concept, and once answered correctly; you proceeded forward. I took notes and wrote every equation down in my composition book. Towards the end, about six weeks, three hours a day, seven days a week, I had filled my notebook so full I literally couldn’t add one more notation.
During math boot camp, I struggled with the Pythagorean theorem and spent days trying to comprehend it. I couldn’t wrap my head around the concept, felt dumb, and almost gave up. Thankfully, I had the foresight to look elsewhere and turned to YouTube. Guess what? I found a lecture I understood within minutes; it was just a different style of explaining the components, one my left-sided brain could understand.
The time for the placement test had come. I always hyperventilate when taking exams, and this occasion was no different, but I passed! Yes, I could now officially sign up for the required college algebra class.
Fast forward to the final college algebra exam. I spotted a seat in the back of the crowded university testing lab. I wanted to hide. My stomach was in knots, and tiny tears dripped down my cheeks. I nodded to the young woman beside me, of course, prayed to God, although I wasn’t hopeful for much deliverance, then proceeded on.
Midway through the exam, the woman sitting next to me went into an unfortunate epileptic episode and was having a seizure. I scanned the room for aid, but all eyes were glued to the computer screens, with no movement from anyone. I jumped up yelled for help, the staff responded, and within minutes, paramedics arrived and whisked her away.
I felt my graduation date slipping away. It appeared I was the only one who stopped taking the timed exam. I tearfully begged the testing staff to contact my professor and explain why I had stopped the test midway through. Fortunately, they agreed, and the next day my professor accommodated another exam.
A few more anxiety-ridden days passed, and the grade finally appeared on my transcript. I passed with a perfect score! Me! An older learner who couldn’t even add a fraction in May had passed college algebra in December with a perfect score! Hell yes!
For me, the driving force was finishing my degree and proving to myself that I wasn’t a failure. I made an important discovery: The people I thought were so smart were not more competent than me; they just mastered the skills needed for success.
In 2012, when I returned to academia, my grammar skills were poor, my math skills abysmal, and the scope of my literary knowledge limited. By 2018, I received an A.S. in Behavioral Science from Vincennes University, a B.A. in English from Indiana University, and a certification from The Prince’s School of Traditional Arts, based in London, England.
Walking on graduation day with a 3.9 GPA, the highest-distinction cord and silky sash laced over my shoulders signified there are no limits, only the ones I place on myself.
Most importantly, I stopped hiding. I hid my past from everyone around me. For the first time in my life, I am okay with growing up poor, fatherless, a high school drop-out, marriage, a baby, and then divorce as a very young woman. I learned resilience and each lesson became a character-building experience.
Eleanor Roosevelt, a remarkable 20th-century first lady, said it best, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
I no longer allow myself to feel inferior: If I don’t understand, I will ask. If I get it wrong, I will fix it; once, twice, as many times as it takes. Mistakes are necessary for improvement; being defeated by challenges — no.
American Kabsa 