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I am super excited to participate in this #hive-reachout prompt 32. Thanks to the admin for an interesting topic: "one thing you wish to change about yourself"
I had always been a reserved person. As a mathematics teacher in Herald International Secondary School, Uyo, Akwa Ibom State, Nigeria, I was respected for my logical thinking, patience, and ability to make complex problems seem simple. I loved my job, loved the beauty of numbers, and found solace in the predictability of equations. But outside the classroom, I struggled with something that even mathematics couldn't solve—my hesitancy to express myself freely in social settings.
It wasn't that I lacked thoughts or opinions; in fact, my mind was always buzzing with ideas, observations, and questions. But whenever I found myself in a group conversation, especially with people outside my familiar circle, I would hold back. I feared saying something unnecessary, something that wouldn’t add value, or worse—something that might be misinterpreted.
At school, my students admired me for my clarity and engaging lessons, yet in the teachers' lounge, I rarely initiated discussions. During social gatherings, I often stood by the sidelines, listening more than speaking. People considered me thoughtful, even wise, but very few truly knew me beyond my profession.
One evening, I was invited to a photography exhibition by a colleague who knew about my passion for capturing the unique essence of places. Photography had always been my way of expressing myself silently—my camera spoke when my words did not. The exhibition featured works of amateur photographers, each telling a story through their lens.
As I walked through the gallery, I felt drawn to one particular photograph. It was a black-and-white image of a crowded street, where a lone musician played the violin, seemingly unnoticed by the rushing pedestrians. Something about that picture resonated with me. I saw myself in the musician—someone present but not truly seen, someone with a voice yet unheard.
At that moment, I made a decision. I wanted to change. I wanted to be more open, more vocal about my thoughts and feelings.
My first step was small but meaningful. The next day, during a staff meeting, instead of merely nodding along, I shared an idea about integrating visual mathematics into teaching—using photography to explain symmetry, patterns, and perspective. To my surprise, my colleagues were intrigued. Some even offered suggestions to build on my idea. The interaction left me feeling energized rather than anxious.
Encouraged, I pushed myself further. I started initiating conversations, even if just small talk, with fellow teachers. At the next photography event, I didn't just observe the photos—I engaged with the photographers, asking about their inspirations and techniques. It felt unnatural at first, but slowly, it became easier.
One evening, as I stood on a quiet street capturing the golden hues of sunset, a stranger approached me, curious about his camera settings. Instead of my usual brief response, I explained in detail, even sharing his perspective on how photography and mathematics intertwined.
For the first time, I felt the beauty of sharing not just through images but through words. And that, I realized, was the beginning of a transformation—one where I no longer stood unnoticed like the musician in the photograph but became part of the conversation, a voice finally heard.
