My unforgettable teacher is my high school math teacher, a male teacher of about 50 years old. He is ugly and wears a pair of old-fashioned big-rimmed glasses. He doesn't talk much, but his expression is grim. Lecture, concise and powerful, serious and firm.

He taught me mathematics for three years, but my memory of him is only senior three.

Because I am a math scum, in the first two years of senior one, I wandered in the class, and I couldn't even get the certificate of the whole grade in junior high school. The exam results are even more unsightly, and failing is common.

When I was in the third year of high school, I was enlightened and wanted to work hard to become stronger.

Active consultation is the first step to conquer mathematics.

Today, I still remember the nervousness when I raised my hand for the first time. Because I asked the basic questions, I was worried about being laughed at by the teacher; I'm more afraid that the image of scum will be despised by the teacher for a long time.

I remember that day, it was the self-study time after the topic was explained. The math teacher habitually stood in front of the platform and paced. Sitting in the last row, I tried several times and finally raised my uneasy hand. When he saw me, he adjusted his old-fashioned big-rimmed glasses and walked slowly with a sullen face.

I'm very nervous.

After he came, he didn't speak, leaned down and looked at the page I turned to. With a calm expression, I picked up my pen and started talking directly. From the explanation of basic concepts to the thinking of solving problems, it is clear and clear, in one go.

I confirm, I understand!