I walked into Foundation to Biology 1 feeling confident and sure of my willingness to gain knowledge on the interesting topic of biology, and to be honest the teacher wasnt too bad. She is really really old and seems to have a slight british accent. Her skin seems to have taken the full brunt of gravity as it sags from every possible point on her body degressing from deep wrinkles set so complex as the galaxies above. Her smile exposes the danger of not brushing quite enough for it is more yellow than the Carribean sun. She is an elderly woman still enticed and excited by the proposition of development and research in the medical field, and she passes that to her students in sudden impulses of energy. It was an interesting class but others had difficulty hearing her faint voice across the room. I sat in the front desk practically right on top of her laptop and projector stand and I still had to strain myself to hear her. She prides herself on her tests being vast and needing understanding beyond the reading, lecture, and notes. Lord how do I prepare for that? We will see.

Then our little envoy of first year premed students went late into general chemistry taught by a local black Caribbean lady with a thick accent. Imagine a chemistry lecture in a Jamaican accent with prolonged words that tickle laughter within, but due to the formality of university I had to fight it down. Look away, think of something serious, listen to the clock. Damn, a spurt of laughter so I shut my eyes and scold myself mentally. As I begin to open my eyes, the dramatic accent once again ignites a yearning to chuckle. After having fought that off, I realized that this was going to be the class that I would have to get down and dirty with. I was going to be forced to wrestle with equations, concepts, and applications regarding the dynamic world around me through the lens of chemistry unabridged by an easement of difficulty. This was going to be jagged and unpolished hard work and dedication. I was going to have to accept the challenge and move forth. A Swedish upper year was there retaking the class because he failed the previous year, and I did not want to be him. The accent and the humor disappeared as an urgency to begin studying and understanding set in. I will emerge myself in chemistry, struggle through problems, and find solutions through thinking beyond the surface if I was going to pass.

As I sit here typing this, I am proud to say that I finished reading and comprehending sixty odd pages of Chemistry today. What a feat, but I still am nowhere near done. The doom of furthur courses such as biochemistry and organic chemistry are inevitable and this is now my last chance to get the bare basic brunt of the subject that makes me shudder. I am motivated and that will give me my foundation to a solid grounding in all my medical science classes. This is a challenging journey, and that can only make the victory all that more enjoyable.