Disappointing Myself
In my first year of high school, I was felt striving and passionate. My friends and I had been enthusiastic to try different clubs and activities. One of my choices was robotics. The class seemed interesting and had caught my attention form the moment I had heard of it. But it required a lot of work by hand and passions.
The demonstration day which students represented the work they had done in each club. This was a very significant day for the entire school department. My teacher had randomly selected my robot to go first. I felt prominent and panicked, I had tired my robot and it worked but I also made a few changes to the light sensors and attached few more pieces for more precision. My robots purpose was to trace a black line in a white surface, this was possible due to he light sensors that just detects the light’s intensity at a point. I placed my robot on to the white board with a circular black line. While my teacher was lecturing about the mechanism of my robot, I attached the battery. Expectedly waiting for it to work, it displayed no indication of movement. Nervously I played with the battery a few more times. But apparently I had no luck and the robot did not start. The principle and a few teachers were watching and observing my project very attentively. I was trying my best to maintain a relaxed expression on my face, while hands were trembling. The gazes of others were taking away my ability to speak, my mouth turned dry and my muscles felt motionless and inert. Finally my teacher stepped in and suggested to try another robot. No