My high school math teacher

I have received a ton of text messages from my sister today. And the last one I received, all it said was "Mr. Robinson says hi." I immediately dialed my sister and said "Where are you?" She tells me that she's at our old high school, looking for a job, and runs into my old high school math teacher.

"He's standing right here. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Tell her it's the man who always called her 'Gina' and did it purposely to bug her," I heard a man say through the phone. Which he did. He always called me 'Gina'. That's not my name.

But yeah, I wanted to talk to this guy.

So you may be wondering why I get excited at the thought of talking to my high school math teacher. I mean, I haven’t seen or spoken to the man in eight years.

But Mr. Robinson wasn’t just any teacher. And certainly not just any math teacher.

He was the algebra teacher who gave me the only "D" I had ever received in high school. And that was horrific, on so many levels. I was an AP and honors student. I had a 3.5 GPA and higher most semesters. And I was working towards graduating with the highest diploma-certificate available in Indiana. And you could not earn that certificate with a "D" on your report card. And what on earth would any college think of me with a "D" on my report card. Everything I had been working in high school for was shattered with that "D."

So Mr. Robinson sat me down, a girl in tears completely shattered that algebra was the one subject she could not understand and so much so that I got a "D" in his class. He told me, quite simply, that I needed to take the class again.

Technically, you don’t need to retake a class with a "D"--- it’s only if you fail the class that you have to retake it. But he said that I could still get my honors diploma if I retook the class, and passed it with a grade higher than a "C" And he said that he would work with me on an individual basis, any assignment, any time before or after school, to make sure that I got it.

My biggest fear for my children's generation is that there won’t be enough teachers like Mr. Robinson. 

 

I retook the class, and with his persistent help, I passed Mr. Robinson's advance algebra class with an A-. 

 

I left high school, and went on to take several math courses in college, most having to do with statistical probability, which led to me being very good at what I do now. Working with statistics. But, I don't think I ever would have gotten to where I am today without Mr. Robinson’s belief in my ability to succeed at advanced algebra. I think that "D" would have had a very negative impact on who I am and what I was capable of doing in the long term.

That "D" has certainly had an impact on my life, but in a more positive form. And I owe that to Mr. Robinson. So, I was grateful when my sister bumped into him today, (and by "bumped into him" I mean he chased her down the hallway to ask if she was my sister), and I got the chance to say thank you. It's been more than eight years since I was last in his class. But I'll never forget the impact his class had on me.

Thank you, Mr. Robinson.

Who's picking up YOUR phone at 3 a.m.?

Hot damn. The economy is in crisis, the United States Senate just failed to pass a large bailout package to save the American auto industry and five million or so jobs that go right along with it, I can’t find a job for myself in this post-Election economy (unless my holiday job in retail at the mall counts), gas prices shot up 40 cents today, Gov. Blagojevich is a corrupt Illinois politician, and I have less than two weeks to finish my Christmas shopping with all the money I’m not earning in my jobless, recessed economy.

But despite all of that, I just read something that made me very happy. After a long, drawn out (27 months) election cycle, as it turns out, when the phone rings at 3 a.m., Hillary Clinton will, in fact, be the one answering it.

Just to clarify, I didn’t just learn she was the Secretary of State-designate for the new Obama administration. But I was scanning blogs where someone else made reference to her 3 a.m. commercial, and I found it hilarious. And comforting. Because I, as a member of the Sisterhood of Travelling Pantsuits, always wanted her to be the one to answer the phone anyways. Good pick PE-BHO.

It made me stop to think for a moment that despite everything that’s going on. . . you know, the complete collapse of our financial system as we know it, days away from teetering into a full-on Great Depression where I show up at my, Bailey’s Savings and Loan, and ask to withdraw the $900 I have in my account immediately (which, sadly, is not so much a reference to the movie, and the time of $900 equally a decent savings as it is the actual the sum of my savings account). . . despite everything that’s going on, some jackass somewhere in the world is planning to do something horrific and terrorizing to us any day now, whether it’s an out with the old or in with the new tactic as we finally get rid of the Bush administration in a mere 39 days. Thinking about this jackass, his friends, and his plans, well. . . it’s keeping me up at 3 a.m. Really, it is. Just look at the time stamp on this puppy.

Less than two weeks away from Christmas, three weeks away from a new year, and a mere five weeks until we start fixing America, kids, and someone smarter than Barney is answering the phone at 3 a.m. Hot damn.