The Numbers Don't Add Up by Akiya

The Numbers Don't Add Up by Akiya - July 2025 Scholarship Essay

Akiya Colyar
The Numbers Don’t Add up

The ocean lives within me and is part of who I am no matter what I do or wherever I am. She’s the wet drops on my math homework, and she’s the pool of my tears as I cry out of frustration. But before I became the ocean, I was a seahorse. Seahorses are known to be small, unrecognized and slower than most sea animals. I was young, a burst of energy and I was filled with ingenuousness. Then, the first natural disaster happened. I remember in second grade, sitting in the back of the classroom, playing a count coin game with the other kids and the teacher. I remember reaching for the coins and pretending to know what I was doing, but in reality, I was just trying to keep up with everyone else. I vividly remember being placed into a remedial math class and sitting there with my peers. I already felt different, I pictured myself as a seahorse who couldn't keep up with her teachers' math lessons or with the other students in my class. Everyone else understood so effortlessly while I was stuck on the sidelines not comprehending a single thing. That was the first of many natural disasters.

As I grew up, I continued to isolate my emotions. Additional minutes and a slower pace were mandatory. As I got older, I became fully aware of my learning disability called dyscalculia. Dyscalculia is a learning disorder that affects a person's ability to understand number-based information and math. People who have dyscalculia struggle with numbers and math because their brains don’t process math-related concepts like a normal brain of people without a math disability. This explained why I struggled eminently with arithmetic growing up, being placed into smaller learning environments, took longer minutes on exams, had extra learning tools, and needed a quieter workspace. I remember being up late at night while my mother assisted with my math homework, and I would just cry for hours because I couldn't understand. If I could give one piece of advice to my past self, it would be this: Eventually, I reprogrammed my thinking:“You can either surf the waves or go under, but you cannot stop the waves.”I had to learn how to adjust with my dyscalculia and understand that it will never go away. I can either continue tackling math and continue to swim but no matter what my dyscalculia will always be a part of me. My guard was down and I was drowning in the ocean of reality, demolishing me and diving into the person I once was. Floating around on my back soaked. I glanced out onto the sky blue waves while the other sea creatures remained untouched and sailing by with ease and I was left with uncertainty. Why is this so unchallenging for them? Why can’t I just understand basic math? That confusion quickly turned into anger and then hostility. I watched everyone else spout the answers, something I wanted to experience.

Growing up I had two options: fight or drown and I wasn’t going to drown. I learned how to adjust with my learning disability and find resources that worked for me. The crashing waves eventually linked together and formed the person I am now. My anger turned into dedication and I continued to swim. So, don't fight with the waves, don't struggle, and don't wish for the waves to end.