I was never good at Math, and much less Geometry. In high school they had to pull me out of Geometry class and put me in Baking/Home Economics in order to save me from failing the grade. Oddly enough, I could easily recognize patterns, symmetry, and angles. The real problem was when we had to apply formulas and numbers to the whole thing. My brain would come to a screeching halt and I would sit there with a confused look on my face as if I were staring at some hieroglyphs from some obscure civilization.
My Geometry teacher would poke fun at me, telling me to never become a carpenter because my house would end up with a mismatched roof and sloping, uneven walls. Yet, during his tests, when the paper would still be blank after half an hour, I would find myself staring at the beams in the classroom ceiling, admiring the shapes and intersections they created.
If he were still teaching, I would like to drop by his classroom one day and place this photo on his desk and ask if he could give me extra credit for it, even though I graduated 17 years ago. Chances are he’ll just wave me away and tell me to go bake a cake or something.