The Butterfly Project© 2009
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved.
Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more
common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone
are omnipotent. –Calvin Coolidge
Nobody said it would be easy – mostly because they’d have been beaten to death by an angry mob.
Transforming your life takes time, determination and perseverance. You will be tried to the utmost breaking point, but if you refuse to give up, I promise you, it will happen.
In 1991, I was in college and one of my core classes was accounting. My entire life I struggled with math and tested out of it in high school. I was told I had a learning disability and could not do numbers. I believed it.
The first day of accounting class I sat in the back row, trying desperately to blend into the woodwork, terrified of having to take this class, knowing I would fail. The teacher, Mrs. Johnson, walked into the room and smiled at everyone as she put her books on the desk, announcing her name loudly with a huge belly laugh. She was perhaps one of the largest black women I had ever seen and her jolly disposition was contagious.
“Who here hates math?” she said, scanning the room, as I slumped even farther down into my chair. Her eyes lit on mine and she pointed at me directly. “Stand up, girl. I need to see your face.”
Horrified, I stood up, embarrassed and sweating, as the class looked on curiously. She eyed me thoughtfully. “You need to sit up here in the front row,” she said smiling. “Right up here by me.”
I was mortified. I moved up to the front and sat down as she began the class, and she always seemed to stop right in front of me when she paused. By the end of class I was near tears. As we were leaving, she put her hand on my shoulder and asked me to stay.
“I sense you are pretty uptight about this class,” she said softly. I tried to look away. “Is it my hair or my shoes?” she said, laughing.
I smiled nervously. “I’m really bad at numbers,” I explained. “Really bad.”
She regarded me seriously for a moment and said, “Tell you what. You trust me and forget everything you’ve ever been told about numbers and I promise you an A in this class. Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “You’ll have to earn it, but I know you can do it and I won’t let you fail.”
I left the class bewildered, having no idea what to think. No one had ever talked to me that way.
Over the next 12 weeks she worked with me every day, completely disregarding any hesitation on my part. She was a hilarious teacher and never made me feel stupid, even when I struggled with the most basic principles. Over and over she drilled into my head that I was more than capable and I found myself looking forward to her class as the highlight of the day. She was like a magnet. By the end of her class I had a 4.0 GPA and my entire perspective had been forever altered.
Why? Because she believed in me. She taught me something I was told I could never learn, but most of all, she taught me how to believe in myself.
Today, let me be your Mrs. Johnson.
Forget what you've been told before. Don’t give up. You can do it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not going to be easy, but if you refuse to be defeated -- I promise you --- at the end, you will get an A.
In life.
common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone
are omnipotent. –Calvin Coolidge
Nobody said it would be easy – mostly because they’d have been beaten to death by an angry mob.
Transforming your life takes time, determination and perseverance. You will be tried to the utmost breaking point, but if you refuse to give up, I promise you, it will happen.
In 1991, I was in college and one of my core classes was accounting. My entire life I struggled with math and tested out of it in high school. I was told I had a learning disability and could not do numbers. I believed it.
The first day of accounting class I sat in the back row, trying desperately to blend into the woodwork, terrified of having to take this class, knowing I would fail. The teacher, Mrs. Johnson, walked into the room and smiled at everyone as she put her books on the desk, announcing her name loudly with a huge belly laugh. She was perhaps one of the largest black women I had ever seen and her jolly disposition was contagious.
“Who here hates math?” she said, scanning the room, as I slumped even farther down into my chair. Her eyes lit on mine and she pointed at me directly. “Stand up, girl. I need to see your face.”
Horrified, I stood up, embarrassed and sweating, as the class looked on curiously. She eyed me thoughtfully. “You need to sit up here in the front row,” she said smiling. “Right up here by me.”
I was mortified. I moved up to the front and sat down as she began the class, and she always seemed to stop right in front of me when she paused. By the end of class I was near tears. As we were leaving, she put her hand on my shoulder and asked me to stay.
“I sense you are pretty uptight about this class,” she said softly. I tried to look away. “Is it my hair or my shoes?” she said, laughing.
I smiled nervously. “I’m really bad at numbers,” I explained. “Really bad.”
She regarded me seriously for a moment and said, “Tell you what. You trust me and forget everything you’ve ever been told about numbers and I promise you an A in this class. Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “You’ll have to earn it, but I know you can do it and I won’t let you fail.”
I left the class bewildered, having no idea what to think. No one had ever talked to me that way.
Over the next 12 weeks she worked with me every day, completely disregarding any hesitation on my part. She was a hilarious teacher and never made me feel stupid, even when I struggled with the most basic principles. Over and over she drilled into my head that I was more than capable and I found myself looking forward to her class as the highlight of the day. She was like a magnet. By the end of her class I had a 4.0 GPA and my entire perspective had been forever altered.
Why? Because she believed in me. She taught me something I was told I could never learn, but most of all, she taught me how to believe in myself.
Today, let me be your Mrs. Johnson.
Forget what you've been told before. Don’t give up. You can do it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not going to be easy, but if you refuse to be defeated -- I promise you --- at the end, you will get an A.
In life.
