I speak Math, not Deustch

Hello world.  This is my second-ever blogpost.

Three days ago I had my first day of school at the esteemed Humboldt Gymnasium and, of course, having studied German for a few weeks on my computer, I understood almost nothing.  It was great though, I met lots of new people and everyone was friendly and welcoming.  This was surprising to me, and would be surprising to anyone in my situation, who for months had know they would be spending a year in Germany and for months had been told by Germans and non-Germans alike, that the people may not be the friendliest.  Regardless of the warm welcome I received, my German skills limited me from having any serious conversations or participating fully in class.  However -- I am a confident, or at least happy-go-lucky type with an optimistic view on things -- I thought that math class would be different.

I have taken math courses at an advanced level since I was in middle school (or the beginning of secondary school for my European friends) and I was confident that if all else failed, I would be able to shine in math class.   So when my new peers informed me that there would be a test I was excited with -- dare I say preoccupied by -- the idea of being able to outshine my new classmates.  My excitement was double when I glanced at someones notes and saw algebra two work that I was capable of doing in the 9th grade.

Now I must pause here and say that my intent is not to, in anyway, diminish the quality of the German education system.  Nothing is better or worse, it is different.  The German way of life, as far as I can tell from my 6 days here, is wonderful and exemplary in many ways.  And they kick our butts in soccer/ fußball.

I was prepared to ace this test (like I have been doing on tests for many years) and impress my new teacher and classmates.  But a magic thing happens when you don't practice math for 4 months.  Suffice to say I did not ace the test.  And it is not the mark on the test that I want my readers to note, it is the massive amount of frustration this caused me because -- I assure you I know how to do this math and given just 5 minutes with someone who speaks good english I could have killed it -- part of my identity for so long has relied on my academic proficiency.  Or at least my math proficiency.

So what am I to take from this?  Am I not as good at math as I have for so long believed?  No absolutely not, I had this same thought with IB Higher level math (please humor me and look up hitler takes IB HL math or perhaps any of the many memes about it or ask anyone who has taken it) and I passed...

Skipping all the rhetorical questions this is what I take from it:  I'm in a new country with new customs and new people and my self-identity will be challenged, it will me broken down and formed again and I will be better for it.  Until I can look back on this experience like I can now look back on IB HL math, I will be frustrated, I will be angry, I will be sad -- I will also be happy no! I will be exuberant when I win small battles -- and I will keep working as hard as I did on HL math.  In conclusion, it is the challenge, failures and successes that make this opportunity great and once I have completed them I will be better for it.  Who cares if I bomb one lousy test?