Moment of Frustration



I picked up my assignment book and prepared for Mrs. Beckwith to begin announcing our daily homework. She stood up from her seat next to the desk and began making her way toward the center of the room. I noticed that she gave a sly smile. Directing the attention to herself, she stated, “We will be doing something different for homework today.” She paused to let everyone quiet down. As I rolled my eyes, assuming that no good would come from this assignment, she continued “You will not be getting any spelling or grammar homework for the next two weeks.” Joy came across everyone in the classroom “Instead, each one of you will begin a research paper about a famous person who has made an impact on our history.” This assignment made me want to hurl. I hated research papers. The last time I attempted a research paper, it took me twice as long as everyone else because I researched the importance of schoolwork. I did not care about schoolwork at all. Remembering how much difficulty this paper brought along for me, I immediately formed a negative attitude about the one my teacher presented to me now.


Mrs. Beckwith walked around the classroom handing all of us a note card with a number on it. My note card presented the number sixteen on the upper right hand corner. She read from a list that matched everyone’s number with the person they must research. When it came down to me, she proclaimed “number sixteen is Colin Powell.” I did not think that he was very interesting, but I figured I could find enough information on him to write a research paper. After we all knew the person we must research, Mrs. Beckwith finished by adding, “In order to keep up with the amount of research you will need to do, I am requiring you to make note cards listing facts about your person. You will need to complete sixty by the end of the week.” My heart sank. How was I supposed to complete sixty note cards by the end of the week? I stared at her in disbelief.


When I came home that day, still dreading, fearing, worrying about all the note cards I had to do, I immediately started working on the research. She did not specify how she wanted the note cards labeled, but I decided to split them up into categories: childhood, education, career, relationships, and accomplishments. I started by looking up an autobiography on Colin Powell online. Many results came up and I picked the first one listed. It contained a very detailed description of his childhood, sharing all of the struggles he faced as an African American growing up in the USA. As the autobiography continued, it discussed his education from grade school to college. Unfortunately, it gave very little detail and did not give enough information to complete the education section of the autobiography. After working for five hours straight, I decided to look back at my work. Out of all that time and work, I only finished fifteen note cards. The note cards seemed to look back and laugh at me with their empty lines. I became like an enraged bull and threw the rest of my homework on the ground. My mind raced with thoughts of worry and frustration. I decided to get some sleep and let go of the research paper until tomorrow.


When Friday came, I had fifty-two of the sixty note cards done. I did my best, and I just could not get to sixty. She collected everyone’s note cards first thing in the morning and told us she would take a completion grade. After recording them, she handed them back to us. I sighed, just glad that I did not need to do any more note cards. Mrs. Beckwith told us that our research papers would be due Friday of the next week. That weekend, I began to write my paper on Colin Powell. Since I did all those note cards, writing about Colin Powell came very easily. By Wednesday of the next week I had already finished the research paper. On Thursday, I proofread my work. Feeling confident that I had the best research paper in the class, I turned it in to Mrs. Beckwith the next day. After waiting a weekend that seemed to take forever, Monday came and so did my excitement. I hurried to my seat, waiting anxiously for Mrs. Beckwith to hand back our graded research papers. She walked around, handing each student their paper, and when she handed my paper back to me, my heart skipped a beat. I got a 98% and managed to score one of the highest grades in my class. I was ecstatic and could not believe it. All that frustration and time helped me to write a research paper that I will always remember and remain proud of for the rest of my life.