When asking for help
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When I was in Grade 10, I had a math teacher named Ms. Pathy.
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Ms. Pathy was actually a music teacher. But she’d somehow been saddled with teaching math.
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Not surprisingly, she was really bad at it.
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I was going through a difficult time personally in Grade 10. Bullied at school. Some complicated stuff at home. My grades were dropping.
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As someone who had always identified as a “good student”, this felt like the last straw. A crucial part of my identity slipping away.
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I had to do something.
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So one day, I knocked on Ms. Pathy’s office door. I remember it so clearly: The sun streaming through the windows. Other teachers milling about their desks. The surprised look on Ms. Pathy’s face.
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I explained that I was really struggling with the math work and concerned about my grade. I asked if I could come in occasionally for 15 minutes at a time. I thought the 1:1 explanation might help.
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“You’d have to be stupid not to get this stuff,” Ms. Pathy balked. “This is the easiest class in the school. I don’t know how you kids aren’t getting it.”
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I wanted to shrink into the floorboards.
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I never asked for help at school again.
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Today, as an adult, I have a clearer picture of what was happening:
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In reality, Ms. Pathy was exactly like me.
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Lost. Overwhelmed. In over her head.
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She needed help.
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Here’s where we differ though:
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I was brave enough to ask for it.
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Many of us avoid asking for help because we don’t want to be a burden. But imagine the burden we unwittingly place on those around us when we’re too proud to reach out for support.
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Imagine the ripples we can’t even see.
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Imagine how different things could be if we just gathered our courage and admitted our human limitations.
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I still don’t know how to divide fractions.
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I don’t care.
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But I am working on my willingness to ask for help.
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Life’s funny that way.
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Though that moment didn’t play out the way I intended, Ms. Pathy taught me a valuable lesson nonetheless.
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Whether she wanted to or not.