The Class Built to Filter Me Out

The following is adapted from F College by Joy Lane.

Monday morning. I’m usually a little anxious, but Mondays are the worst. It doesn’t help that I kick off my week with my most hated class, Calc III. We got last week’s quiz back today, and I all but failed it. So after grabbing a snack to console myself, I head to office hours to review my answers with Professor Progresso.

I climb five flights of a creepy closet of a stairwell into a hallway that feels like an actual maze. Behind one of these closed doors sits the professor who has already failed me once and could fail me again.

I count the doors until I’m standing in front of 521. The depressing part is that I’ve been trying really hard. I take detailed notes, do all the homework, and walk into every quiz thinking I understand the material. But Progresso’s quizzes are full of “gotchas,” and you have to know every detail: how and when to use each theorem. When he walks the class through the answers afterward, it always makes sense. In hindsight. His “look what you missed” excitement somehow makes you feel worse about yourself.

I knock three times, loud and firm. Confident, I tell myself.

He greets me with a big smile that oddly doesn’t make me feel better. When I mention I’ve taken his class before, his smile dims. There it is. He recognizes me. The quitter. I’d felt new and improved all semester.

“This is a tough class,” he says. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you.”

He brings up my D-minus, my late homework. I decide honesty is my only path forward. I tell him I go to the math lab every week, that I feel like I get it until one small misstep wrecks the problem, that these 3D shapes are hard to visualize on flat paper. I tell him I’m nervous about the midterm and the final.

He stays standing behind his desk. “This is an engineering-based calculus class,” he says. “These classes are not just about the direct application of calculus. They also act as a filter.”

That sentence hits hard. I’m getting sifted out.

Engineers build extraordinarily complex things, he explains. Airplanes need to stay in the sky. “It’s my job to make sure we sort out students who won’t make the cut out there, where it matters.”

I nod along. My backpack feels like it’s full of rocks. This isn’t just a class. It’s a filtration system, and it caught me.

I fumble for the doorknob and manage a “thank you.” Thank you for destroying the one reason I’ve given myself to move forward every day. Cells have mitochondria, and I’ve always had engineering.

As soon as his door closes, I run down that long corridor as fast as my book bag will let me.

…

For more on how Joy pushed through self-doubt and academic setbacks, you can find F College on Amazon.

Senior mechanical design engineer, college lecturer, and entrepreneur Joy Lane likes working closely with people and making new stuff. When not sketching out wild ideas or grading assignments for her students at Cal Poly, Joy can usually be found at the beach with her faithful dog, Boone, daydreaming about the next big venture (and, occasionally, landing a decent shot on the golf course).