It was time. I told myself I knew this stuff. I got it. I stuffed the inside of my Second Grade desk with the books and paper from our last subject. All that remained was my pencil, a sheet of paper with my fat-fonted name across the top and my fidgety hands as I waited for the teacher to slide the cassette into the top of the hand-held tape player and press down the button. I can do this.
The voice began. Math problems were slowly and robotically spoken to us. We had seconds to write the answer. There was no pause, stop or rewind. My palms sweated. My leg shook. I bounced in my seat like I had to go to the restroom. I blanked.
Speed math tests were painful for me. Pain. Full. It wasn’t that I didn’t know math. Me and math were cool. It’s just, when you add the element of time, well, I lost it. I used to study/train just for these tests. My friend, Eleni, would help me practice. Her mom had some speed math tapes and we would play school. I think I was actually being tutored but it was playing school, in my head.
I got through it all ok and actually forgot about the panic I’d feel until Nia started bringing home half sheets of paper with math problems and the words “speed test” on them. I worried for her. Would she stress out like I did?
I’m relieved to say, this picture sums it up:
No Speed Test Troubles
Phew. I can’t help but flashback each time I encounter one in her folder though. I think I’m already stressing for Nate’s.
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