Eric Thomas - The Secret to Success

Got my G.E.D

At some point in life you have to face your fears, and head on even though you can’t be sure of the outcome. A great deal of people will never reach their dreams and it won’t have anything to do with their ability or skill set. They won’t reach their dreams because they were too afraid to try .

As I took my seat, my palms were sweaty and I could feel my legs shaking uncontrollably. “E, relax, calm down, take your time, everything is going to be fine.” But as soon as I closed my eyes to pray, thoughts of failure raced through my head. It was hard to ignore the negative voices screaming in my head, “It’s no way you are going to pass this test, you have never been good at taking tests, you are too dumb for college,” no matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the voices. Instead of panicking, I stopped and whispered a silent prayer. I remember my past experiences, that whenever I was in a crisis, if I closed my eyes, BAM! God would come through for me and I felt in my heart He could come through again. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for thou art with me, thy rod and staff shall protect me.” As soon as the words were leaving my lips I could feel a presence of calmness come over me, and I felt at ease. It was as if God himself came into the classroom and said in a still small voice, “Relax, take your time, everything is going to be fine son.” I was young, but I was wise enough to know that if God said it, that settled it. So I grabbed my pencil, filled out my name on the Scan-tron and went to work. I approached the G.E.D. test in a way I had never approached a test. This exam had major lifelong implications. It was much deeper than an alphabetic scale, A…B…C…D or F; this exam was for all the marbles. If I failed, I knew I would be broken. My entire future was riding on the results of this exam. For one, I could potentially lose my girl for life. Two, I would be trapped in Detroit for the rest of my life. I learned quickly that the hood is a dead end. I did not know one drug dealer that retired from the game. Even if the Feds did not catch up with them, some jealous snitch ratted them out, or some scorned female set them up. And worse than that, I did not want to be one of those cats sitting on the porch drinking a 40 oz. reminiscing about what I could have been like. On the other hand, if I passed, it was an automatic renewal on life. A renewal I so desperately needed.

The test was timed so I had to be strategic. I did not want to rush it and risk making stupid mistakes, but I could not afford to be too methodical and waste so much time focusing on one section. So my strategy was to skip all the questions I did not know immediately, and focus my energy on the questions I knew or thought I knew. The majority of the sections lasted about an hour and a half. That gave me enough time to nail the ones I knew and wrestle with the questions that were written in seemingly a foreign language. During my breaks, I was so nervous I did not speak to anyone. I did not even use the payphone to call De. I spent the entire break praying. I felt really good about my chances to pass the exam until the instructor handed out the writing portion. That’s when my heart dropped. In my mind the other sections of the test were easier because they only required deductive reasoning. I read a passage and based on the information provided, I selected one of four possible answers. The writing portion was just the opposite. It was a blank sheet of paper with nothing on it. To make matters even worse, they allotted the least amount of time to complete this section. I wasted the first 15 minutes trying to create a thesis. I began writing for what seemed like five minutes, and then I heard, “Please, place you pencils down and pass your exam to the front of the room.” The words pierced through my chest and I felt like I was having a massive heart attack. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I barely finished the conclusion and did not have time to edit my work. I vividly remember thinking “I got that close to having a fresh start.”

“Your results will be ready tomorrow afternoon. All you need to do is visit the administrative office tomorrow after 3:00 p.m., with a valid ID and your results will be provided. However, your written portion will be mailed to D.C. for review and the results should be available within two to three weeks.” “Two to three weeks!” I shouted rudely. “Yes, two to three weeks Mr. Thomas,” the instructor responded. The next day I woke up with a serious knot in my stomach and I was quiet the entire day. I did not have much of an appetite, and I did not feel like being sociable. The test results were the only thing on my mind. I was dressed, out of the house, and at the bus stop one hour early. I made it to the school by 2.30 p.m. and was the first person in the office. I walked up to the window and wrote down my name, time of arrival, and my ID number. About 27 minutes later the receptionist called my name and handed me a manila envelope with my name on the top left corner and said, “Good Luck.” I am generally cordial, but I was so nervous I just grabbed the manila envelope and walked out. I went outside to open the envelope so no one in the room would see my reaction to the scores. I must have walked at least a mile up the street before I opened the envelope thinking to myself, “My life is contained in this small envelope.” I finally opened it and browsed through the scores. Initially, the numbers did not make a lot of sense, but at the bottom of the G.E.D. document there was a section that said you needed at least a 410 in each section and a 450 average, which would equate to 2110 points. I took a deep breath, looked down at my scores and did the mental math. I did not score a 450 in every section but when I added up all the section, I realized I passed with flying colors. Unfortunately, I had mixed emotions. I wanted to run to the nearest payphone and call De, but the last thing I wanted to do was call her and celebrate prematurely only to later find out that I failed the writing portion. In fact, I was more terrified after realizing I passed the first phase than I was taking the test in the first place. I remember thinking I had more to lose now than ever. If I had never taken the test I could always say I would have passed it if I had I taken it, I just did not feel like taking it. That way I would never have to face my fears and I could create this illusion in my mind to prevent me from feeling like a failure. I was good at that. But the stakes were high and there was no turning back at that point. If I failed the written portion, Eric Thomas Is a Complete Failure, would be written in stone forever and my fate would be sealed. So when I finally spoke with De later that day I just told her I had to wait two weeks to get my results. It seemed like the longest two to three weeks of my life, but one random weekday I got a letter from the Department of Education. I remember sitting there looking at it for a while before I opened it. It was pouring rain outside and the wind was whipping against the window in a fierce manner. My eyes began to water and my neck began its infamous twitch. I opened the letter and read slowly. Dear Mr. Thomas the nature of this letter is to inform you that you have successfully completed the written portion of the G.E.D., congratulations. I dropped the letter and took off running down the street in the middle of the rain yelling and screaming uncontrollably. Whoo! Whoo! I ran back inside and grabbed the letter, stuck it in my pocket so it would not get wet, jumped on De’s Honda Spree motorcycle and headed to her to tell her the good news. Riding through the rain with the biggest grin on my face, the only thought on my mind was, “Lookout world, here comes your boy, ET!”