Monday, April 4, 2011
my love affair with A&P: part 1
One of the things that always kept me from really trying is the fear of failure. I could be happy with getting A-'s and B's, and the occasional A, because I wasn't completely invested. But, what if I did try and I still couldn't pull it off? I mean, I was the athlete of the family. That was my role. My older sister carried the academic torch. Heck, even my other siblings had me beat. Looking back, I can see that I was the only one putting limits on myself, and I was definitely living up to my expectations, which were clearly not that high.
But now my expectations had shifted. When I started this whole process, I told myself that I would be in this 100%. No slacking.
Since I had taken most of the prerequisites during my undergrad, I only had 3 classes to take: Intro to OT, Statistics (barf), and Anatomy and Physiology. I squeezed into the A&P class and Intro to OT for the fall quarter, but I decided to wait until winter quarter to take Statistics. I filled the rest of my credits with a sign language class and a fitness class. Apart from the A&P, my schedule was cake.
On my first day of school, I got to my A&P class 45 minutes early. A little overzealous, perhaps? I paged through my giant elephant of a textbook and thought, what have I gotten myself into?
When the classroom was free I walked into the auditorium and sat myself in the center of the third row. I knew nobody. I jotted a few things in my planner trying to look studious and like I didn't mind not having anyone to talk to while I waited for Mr. Fillmore to start the class.
Now, I did my homework and looked up Mr. Fillmore on ratemyprofessors.com, and from what I could tell, he was pretty fantastic. It wasn't him I was worried about, but the subject matter. Biology and I had quite a history together. During my undergrad I took Human Biology, Microbiology, and Advanced Physiology.I skirted by with B's, but oh the torture. I spent ridiculous amounts of time memorizing facts and regurgitating them for tests, but I never understood it. And most of all, I hated lab. h-a-t-e-d it. I wanted nothing to do with decapitated frogs and sheep's eyes. Ugh.
After lecture that first day, I left class feeling hopeful. Hopeful that I could understand the concepts. Hopeful that I could pull off a 4.0. Hopeful that maybe I'd make some friends. Hopeful that I could get a letter of recommendation from Mr. Fillmore.
Hope was good, but it only got better.