The Turning Point in the Lecture Hall by Khushi

The Turning Point in the Lecture Hall by Khushi - January 2026 Scholarship Essay

My chest tightened as my chemistry professor laid out our sections’ graded exams across his front desk. It was the familiar heaviness I felt in high school whenever someone yelled that grades were out. Except now I was no longer in high school, and instead I walked down the somehow increasingly narrowing aisle of the lecture hall in the science building of my university. It felt as though I was walking for ages until I finally reached the desk. As I did, I began to scan the last four digits of the student IDs written on the upper right hand corner of every exam, which were scattered about by all of the other students. My hand felt unsteady as my eyes locked onto the familiar sequence of my student ID and I picked up the paper, slowly walking back to my seat. The lecture hall was dimly lit as I sat down and turned the exam over. The number at the top of the page seemed to blur everything around me.
I stared at my exam, frozen, as the voices of my friends and classmates faded. A familiar sense of dread began to set in, similar to that of when I got a mediocre score in high school. But now, I was staring at the lowest score I had ever received in my academics. When my friend leaned over to ask what I got, it snapped me back into reality. I forced a smile, told a small white lie, and nodded like everything was fine. Inside, it told a completely different story. I felt embarrassed and unsure of myself. I came into college hoping to start fresh and do better than I had ever done in high school. That single exam score made me question whether I belonged on the pre-med track and whether I was capable of handling a path that demanded so much more. This feeling followed me long after I left the lecture hall. The moment kept replacing in my head during lectures, while studying, and every night before bed. I compared myself to others and began to wonder how far behind I truly was. Although I had the rest of the semester ahead of me, the fear overpowered any sense of motivation I once had.
A few days later, one of my professors for an elective class asked my friends and me how our chemistry exam had gone. As I listened to them talk about how well they did, the weight in my chest grew heavier. I felt the self-doubt overwhelm me again and I forced yet another smile acting as though I understood their success. But then they mentioned a supplemental instructor, a free tutor available for our chemistry class section. I remember seeing an email about him, but regrettably overlooked it. Hearing about someone who could guide me without judgment sparked that motivation I had coming into this semester once again. I decided that I would go to him, even if it meant stepping out of my comfort zone and admitting that I needed help. Staying stuck in this self-doubt was doing more harm than good. I had to make one of two choices: let this one bad grade define the rest of my college career or use it as a way to turn things around. I took an honest look at my study habits and knew that I needed to adjust it for their rigorous course. Walking into my first supplemental instructor session, I expected to feel alone. Instead, I found students who were struggling in the same ways that I was. We gathered around tables filled with notes and asked questions without fear of judgment, working through our mistakes together. Over time, these sessions turned the initial isolation I felt during studying into something I looked forward to. Through study groups, I built friendships that pushed me to do my best and we supported each other whenever we reached our breaking points. Being surrounded by people in the same boat taught me consistency and the true meaning of trusting the process.
The next time I walked into that same lecture hall after a test, everything felt different. The room seemed to brighten as I walked down that same aisle, which was less constricting as before. This time when I picked up my exam and turned it over, I saw a score that I was proud of. There was no ringing in my ears. Instead, it was replaced by a sense of relief and clarity. That exam represented more than my academic improvement. It reflected how my hard work and changed mindset had paid off. With this consistent effort, my grades steadily improved, and by the end of the semester, I earned a high enough grade to be exempt from the final exam. What mattered more than the result was the growth that came along with it. That initial failure I felt reshaped how I handled challenges I faced. It taught me that my setbacks can become turning points in my character. Learning to ask for help, something that I struggled with before, allowed me to gain confidence in my abilities and become the best version of myself.