The Test that went South

The past two weeks have been particularly important because all my classes have had their first midterms. And thus, they have also been particularly stressful. It is especially important to do well on the first test so that you have a good foundation on which to build the rest of the semester. Last week, I had Accounting and German Exams. This week, I had Community Health, Management, and Healthcare Organization/Management exams. I managed to do well on last week’s exams—this week was a little different, shall we say.

I shall remind the reader that I am not particularly fond of my Community Health class. If you will recall, the professor originally scheduled for this class was called away the day before the semester began to tend to her husband who had fallen out of a second story window in Australia and was paralyzed. So this class was added on to another professor whose heart clearly hasn’t been into teaching it. We spend our days listening to her just read off Power Point slides with an occasional “What do y’all think about—” discussion, which—for all intents and purposes—is worthless. The textbook is two inches thick, and we were told to “make sure we read the book.” So in preparing for this test, I read my book, and I studied my notes. Dr. W told us if we read the book and know our Power Point slides, we’d be fine.

Now, I am one who—all things considered—has pretty decent study habits. I made myself a great study guide and put in a decent number of hours into reading and studying for the exam. In fact, I actually felt fairly confident going into the test. And I remained that way… until question number 2. I knew the answer for the first question, but it was downhill from there. Folks, this test was like no other test I have ever taken. I am now in my third year of college, and this was the worst one I have come across yet.

Let me just describe it to you: First of all, it was not even Dr. W’s test; we were tested off of the first professor’s test. That fact alone should’ve been the first sign of things to come. At any rate, the test was made up of 100 multiple choice and true/false questions. The questions themselves were absolutely ridiculous questions to be tested on. They were based on the smallest of details found in the textbook. Forget the main and important points. No! We were tested on the year of the first census (which has very little to do with community health), the year that UNICEF was founded, whether or not WHO is the oldest international health organization, whether or not the mosquito is the most important vector of all, what credentials the director of a health department must have, and on and on and on. None of these particular details were ever mentioned in class. If you didn’t manage to notice it enough to remember when reading the book—well, forget it. The questions were bad enough, but added to that was the fact that we had five options to choose from in the multiple choice questions with choices like: None of the above; All of the above; A and B; A, B, and C; Just A and C—and these were on almost every question!

For the first time, the things that I didn’t know equaled and maybe even exceeded the things that I did know—and that’s an AWFUL feeling. Adding to the stress was the classroom monitor the prof was kind enough to leave in charge while she skipped the class. The monitor strolled up and down the aisles—up and down, up and down, around and around. My nerves were absolutely FRAZZLED by the time I had filled in all 100 circles. I wanted to shout at the monitor to sit down!! But I didn’t. I left that classroom as upset as I have ever been at anything academic. The things on that test were totally unfair—and I was fairly confident that unless I had guessed correctly, I would be lucky to escape with a C. Yes, a C!!! Lucky!!!

I was so upset, in fact, that when I got home that night to pick up Cleo, I ranted and raved about it to Mom and Dad. They were of great comfort to a distressed bear. Mom was ready to fire the prof, I think. My dislike for this class since that test has greatly intensified, shall we say.

When I returned to the class on Thursday, I was braced and ready to receive my first flunked test, if necessary. I reminded myself time and again that my value is not based on my performance, nor lack thereof. But it felt pretty rotten, just the same. There were some students sitting outside the classroom when I got there, and we commenced a discussion of the test. I shall leave out the colorful language that was floating around the hall, but suffice it to say I found out that I was not the only student who felt we had been tested unfairly. And as we filed into the classroom, the discussion continued. I found out there are methods of handling tests of this nature such as the “Eeny Meeny Miney Moe” method or the “Choose the one that hasn’t been used in a while” method. Both of these methods weren’t ones I had utilized, but I would venture to say that my results couldn’t have been much worse if I had. One girl said she was so upset by the test that she couldn’t even go to her next class—she just went home. We all agreed that for this test, the teacher was absolutely irrelevant. We may as well have spent our class time at home, reading and memorizing the book.

To make matters worse, we didn’t even get our tests back that day because “another student hadn’t taken his test yet.” The prof did say, however, that before we have heart attacks, we should know that she curved our grades by 12 points. (Well, thank goodness for that!) One lady asked her what the class average was. It turns out that the class average was a 60% before the curve--well, no surprise here. Someone else asked if anyone had gotten an A. One person got an A—after the curve, she said. The highest grade was a 78 before the curve, a 90 after. Although we didn’t get our tests back, she said she had posted our grades on Blackboard. So after class, I headed for the library to check my grade.

I could have wept with relief when I saw the 90 posted under my name. I could hardly believe it, that as stupid as I felt while taking that test, I had actually managed to come out with the highest grade at a 78, mind you. I can’t imagine how much worse the others felt. I will just say that it is NO FUN to take a test when you feel like you literally don’t know any more than half the answers, at best. I know I got some lucky guesses—there was no way that I knew even 78 of those answers.

Since I probably will never be asked for my advice on what makes a good class and/or professor, I'll just seize this opportunity to share what I think about the topic in general:

Kris's List of Advice for Professors

1. There is absolutely no honor or merit in testing students on trivial details. It is impossible to memorize a textbook, and thus, the focus of both the teacher and the students should be on the IMPORTANT things of the class that will carry over to a life career. Trivial details belong on tests as bonus points only!

2. A test should not be comprised of anything that has not at least been mentioned in class. If there isn’t enough class time to mention the information, then it isn’t important enough to be tested on.

3. A teacher cannot teach effectively by merely reading Power Point slides to the class and telling the class to “read the textbook.” I am paying some pretty hefty tuition to be taught something. So teach me.

4. The textbook should be used as a resource for clarification or for more in-depth understanding. It should not be used as a substitute for obtaining information the teacher should be giving.

5. Do not threaten me with “pop quizzes.” It does nothing more than cause me undue stress, and stress is something I have plenty of without adding pop quizzes. Tell me what is expected of me and when. If you want to quiz me on something—fine. Just tell me in advance when it is going to be so that I can ration my time to appropriately prepare for it.

6. Keep in mind, Professor Dear, that your class is not my only class—nor is it the climax of my education. In most cases, it is merely a means to an end. Do not add “busy work” just because you lump me into a class of students that has nothing better to do than to drink and party. If your assignments do not contribute to my future career, don’t waste my valuable time with it.

7. Do not play on or exploit my weaknesses by asking tricky questions or giving options on tests such as “None of the above,” or “All of the above, etc.”

8. Remember that relationships with your students are important too. It does not hurt you to attempt, at the very least, to learn their names.

9. If I email you a question about something class-related, the least you can do is send me a prompt response.

10. I feel like I need ten things on my list to keep it tidy, but I haven’t come up with the tenth one yet. At any rate, someone who is merely skimming this list will never notice.

One Crummy Day

I can feel my life as a student with five classes beginning to crumble. Thursday, in particular, was one crummy day. And to think I was feeling sorry for poor Sharon who had started her day out by forgetting to get her parking permit out of Mom’s van. She had to park far, far away. We usually park in the parking garage on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but with no parking permit, she had to park where she wouldn’t get ticketed. I, on the other hand, headed to the parking garage as usual.

It was as I was preparing to leave my car and make the trek up the hill, that I realized with absolute horror that I had forgotten my flash drive at home. And today–yes, today–was the day that I had to give a presentation for my HCA340 class. And on that flash drive was my Power Point presentation. The flash drive was in Franklin, and I was about to head into class.

I knew my only hope was Jolene, who was still safely at home sleeping in her nice, warm bed. Now you must understand that Jolene is not very friendly in the mornings; indeed, she is one whom I prefer to avoid at that time of day. Nevertheless, there was no help for it, and so with much haste, I punched her cell number into my phone. (It’s a wonder I had my cell phone; I’ve been known to forget that on occasion too!)

Amazingly enough, Jolene answered on the second ring. She graciously agreed to help me out, but I could hear the sleep in her voice, and I pled with her to not go back to sleep. I knew if she did, further disasters would entail. She was very firm about still having “ten more minutes.” I told her I was going to call Mom and tell her to make SURE she was up in ten minutes. She didn’t go for the idea at all, but I did it anyway.

So I headed into my accounting class at 8:00. I am always on pins and needles going into that class because of the dreaded pop quiz. I am always certain that “today is the day,” and then the period comes and goes, and no quiz. If I am ever a professor, I shall neither threaten to nor actually give pop quizzes. Well anyway, I entered the classroom and began to take my layers off. I draped my coat across the back of the chair, but woe unto me, I somehow caught the coat on the chair’s arm, and RIIIPPP. I plumb ripped the seam of that coat from the armpit down to its ying yang. And it’s my favorite coat!!

One of the few bright spots of the day was when I went into the computer lab after accounting to finish my presentation. I sat down next to my little friend Jill without seeing who it was, and when we realized it, we had a joyful little reunion. I told her my dilemma, and she said she would quit talking and let me concentrate. Amazingly enough, Jolene had managed to send me the correct file, and I spent the next hour finishing my presentation. I had brought a spare flash drive in with me on which to save it, but it actually had a design malfunction and would not plug into the USB drive in the front of the computer. I had to pull the computer tower out and stick the flash drive into a USB port in the back–no small hassle.

When I got to my next class (Community Health) at 11:10, we got further details for our upcoming group project. Dr. W began talking about our methods of assessments in determining the problem for our community. As you will recall, my group has decided to do our project on STDs, and based on what Dr. W was saying, I certainly did not relish the thought of marching into all of the Bowling Green high schools and conducting a survey of the sexual habits of all Bowling Green teens and whether or not they had “hit the jackpot.” In fact, the mere thought almost sent me over the edge. My stomach immediately twisted into a terrible knot, and I began scheming how I would get out of it. I talked to the prof about it after class; it turns out, we won’t actually have to do it–we just have to SAY that’s what we’ve done...for the purposes of the presentation. But I’m more confused about it now than ever, particularly so because neither of the other two members of my group were in class to help me interpret the instructions. It turns out that one of the members, Sara, had been up at 4 a.m. and had subsequently overslept, missing her first two classes. She’s in my HCA class also, so she was telling me about it then. It seems she also was not having a good day.

After leaving my Community Health class with a feeling of dread firmly implanted in my stomach, I headed to my management class. I was still stewing about the prior class when I all of a sudden heard the prof telling the entire class of about fifty students that he had met “Kris Schmucker’s sister up on the fourth floor, and my gosh, they aren’t even twins!” I had a quick chuckle with him as we went over the usual amazement people express over there being two of us. Sharon told me later that he was so amazed it wasn’t me that he missed his elevator.

At any rate, it was on this very same day that we were briefed on an upcoming project called an “elevator pitch.” Now, I had never heard of an elevator pitch prior to this miserable day. So Professor “Scott” demonstrated it. From what I can remember, it is essentially a mini-speech where you have to come up with a catchy opening phrase followed by two reasons and supporting evidence, and finally, you end it with a closing statement that restates the first sentence. This all is supposed to happen within sixty seconds–start to finish. He asked the class to give him a topic–“any topic,” he said, and “not an easy one.” So someone tossed out abortion. He proceeded to turn his back to the class while he “prepared.” It took him all of ten seconds, after which he turned around and proceeded to give his elevator pitch. I could feel my vision begin to get spotty and then fade even as an ulcer began to form.

At least we got out of the class early. I headed over to the computer lab again to quickly stick something else into my presentation that I had thought of. I found one of my Economics friends from last semester in there, and I was grateful to see a friendly face. But I had no sooner sat down and pulled my presentation up when we were invaded by some class who wanted to take possession of all the computers. My friend just left, but I was in desperate straits by this time, and I told the instructor I would be out just as soon as I could, but that I had a presentation the next period, and I absolutely needed to finish it. I made haste, finished it up, and fled the lab.

I had not read the chapter for my HCA class–the one we were about to be quizzed over. Indeed, all my time had been taken up with preparing the presentation I was about to give. Because of the aforementioned design malfunction of my flash drive, I knew I had to figure out how to get the Power Point up on the computer without using the USB drive in the front. The bad thing about the computer in this classroom is that it is in a locked cabinet, and while the professor has a key, it is a bit of a hassle to get to it. When she arrived, I tried to explain to her that I needed to access the file before the class began and why; she could tell I was a bit harried, I think, because she told me in her Russian accent, “You’re going to be fine!” Hah!

The presentation at last came and went. We were timed on the thing, and blimey, if there wasn’t one student who kept raising his hand and interrupting me!! The presentation was on Medicare Part D and how it is supposed to work. We took the quiz. I don’t know how I did yet, but considering that I spent literally no time preparing for it–well, it could have been worse. The nice thing about her quizzes is that they are either Pass or Fail quizzes. You have to get at least 50% in order to pass (which means you can miss 50%). If you pass, one point is added to your final grade for the class. Soo... That is very nice!

It felt like a miracle when the day actually came to an end. I felt like I had run a marathon. Sharon and I went to Mom and Dad’s for supper and commiserated with Jolene about our respective terrible days. It turns out that the story behind Jolene’s emailing the file to me is another story in and of itself. It included the electricity going out just as she was going to send it, dropping her ID at school, having to be whistled at to draw her attention to it, and falling flat on her back after failing to interpret ice for what it was. But then, I shall leave that story to her as I have enough troubles of my own to keep up with.

I should just add that since that terrible day, I have received good news on both the elevator pitch and the presentation. I got a 100 on the presentation and critique of the article for the HCA class. As for the elevator pitch, I had emailed the Prof and told him to “Please tell me we will have more than ten seconds to prepare for this elevator thingy!” I had been having flashbacks of my impromptu speech when I was in high school–a total flop, it was. I also told him he should know that if we have to do it as he did it, i.e., “on the spot,” this would undoubtedly be the beginning of my first ulcer.

He wrote me back and said, “I certainly don't want to be the one responsible for everyone's ulcers, so no worries--you'll have plenty of time to prepare for the elevator pitch.”

And I’m going to bed singing the Hallelujah Chorus!