Someday, I will learn.

Someday, I will learn to stop writing exams that look like ransom notes writing by a monkey on speed. But in the meantime, I'm done. Done done. First semester of grad school 100% down, and I'm satisfied with my work and confident that coming here was the right decision. Bam.

In praise of the written exam

I am in one of the only Div School classes offering a written final (i.e. not a language exam), and my friends in other concentrations have reacted with disbelief: "What!? This is graduate school!" "So, you're supposed to memorize all the Bible stuff?" "Why can't he just have a paper, like everyone else?".  The kindest responses have sought some kind of professorial utility: "Well, it makes it hard to plagiarize" or "Must be easier to grade." 

Here's the thing: I love final exams. I think they're effective learning tools. Moreover, I think they're nifty. 

Why? Well, first of all, they force me to review the whole semester. An exam doesn't even have to be well-written to do this, just threatening. In studying for an exam, I make sure that I have at least a passing familiarity with all of the material. When writing a paper, by contrast, I focus on the few texts or theorists relevant to my research. In short, exams give me a better shot at remembering the course material.

But it's not just about "remembering all the Bible stuff." It's about considering all the Bible stuff. When we write, we choose what we think is interesting or good, and start from there. This is a useful skill--discernment--but only when used in conjunction with openness. I know that I am all too quick, as someone at the very start of my career, to reject work that I find inadequate, or flawed. The exam forces me to look at each scholar we've read this term, and ask myself seriously, "What does this contribute? Why is it important?"

While paper-writing helps me focus my thinking and make connections on the micro-level, exam writing requires a broad perspective. A good exam requires the student to make connections between ideas discussed separately in the class, to think about the construction of the course and the larger concepts behind it. A great exam requires the student to think about the implications of those connections in relation to the broader field of study. I had a teacher in 12th grade who famously said, as he passed out blue books, "Showing me that this exam is a doorway will earn you a B+. Stepping through that doorway is the only way to get an A." 

I like to think of that exam-doorway as the exit to the house we've been living in together all term. We've held discussion around the kitchen table, we've listened to lectures in the living room. We've had guest speakers and opened up the parlor, we've parsed some really tricky stuff in the home office. But now, it's time to leave, and the question is, what will we take with us? Do we know where we've been? Where do we go from here?

Time, Glorious Time!

I'm onto my final final, an open-book essay exam scheduled for next Monday. So my studying, thank heaven, has slowed to a reasonable rate. Actually, an absolutely luxurious one. A long weekend entirely dedicated to reviewing and synthesizing material from my most challenging course? Heck yeah, I'll take it!

The breakthrough moment

I say it, again and again, as I force myself to write out horrid drafts--"Trust the process. It'll get there in the end." But I don't really believe it.

Yesterday, I was sitting in the library with my cup of coffee and my giant pile of drafts/notes/professor comments (bless the man) and bemoaning having this one piece of evidence that didn't quite fit my thesis. I was trying to move things around and see where I could slip it in least noticeably, when it hit me. I'm actually dealing with two separate categories of Thing! My thesis, instead of being "This text does X with Y and Z" should actually be "This text does X with Y and Q with Z." Which is not only more true, but more interesting.

The process, it works.

These kids win.

So, this morning, I got up (damn) early and went and volunteered to judge a high school debate tournament. A friend of a friend works for the organization, and they really needed help, and I was seriously sleep-deprived when she asked, so I didn't really think about the fact that it's finals period. But it was totally, completely, 100% worth it.

These kids were amazing. They were passionate and competitive, yet completely sporting. Most of the debaters that I judged weren't native english speakers, and all of them had trouble with the "big words" in the material they were quoting to support their arguments, but they spoke confidently and argued well. They spotted logical flaws quickly, pointing out their opponents' and correcting their own. They were very gracious to me as a brand-new judge and even took some time after the bout to chat with me about how much they like debating and why.

I was an athlete in high school, and I've got plenty to say (another time) about how well that experience help me prepare for higher education. But I was really impressed by how well this program blended "educational" and "fun." The skills these students are practicing: friendly competition, evaluating evidence, formulating an argument, speaking publicly, teamwork...that's the stuff they're going to need every day, in college and beyond. 

1,2...6,7

I love that course evaluations (my school does them online) come out during the reading period, because they make a great study break. They take me about 20 minutes, keep me thinking and writing, and I'd even argue that taking time to reflect on the goals of the course is good preparation for the final. Here at Div School, they are quite extensive, which I don't remember being the case at Undergrad College--except when I had a professor come up for tenure and had to fill out the freaking SATs of course evaluation. Seriously, they had to use the high-volume stapler on that shit.

...Anyhow. These questions ask something like "How well did the professor facilitate class discussion?" and then give you a scale of 1-7, where 1 is supposed to mean "What class discussion?/It was psychological torture" and 7 is "I learned as much from my classmates as from him/It was all Socratic method up in there, all the time", and almost every class is somewhere in the 3-5 range. But I would love to see a distribution curve on student responses, because I almost never use most of the buttons, and suspect that I am not alone in this.


Visual aid:

	1	2	3	4	5	6	7
What it’s supposed to mean:	Worst ever.	Quite Bad.	Bad.	OK.	Good enough.	Excellent!	Best ever!
What I think it means:	I would file a formal complaint if I weren’t terrified of this bigoted asshole.	N/A	N/A	N/A	Bad to OK	Good enough.	Excellent to Best Ever!

I am immediately struck by how much this resembles the way that I interpret paper grades:

Visual Aid #2:

	F	D	C	B	B+	A-	A
What it’s supposed to mean:	Inadequate.	Bad.	OK.	Good.	Very good.	Excellent!	Best ever!
What I think it means:	Plagiarist/ Non-sentient life form.	N/A	N/A	Just go home already.	Warning: you’re kind of going off the rails here.	Nice try, kid. Better luck next time.	Great! You should do this as a job!

So maybe what we've got here is a case of course-evaluation inflation. I'd be curious if this happens on other rating scales. Do folks make use of the "middle buttons" in evaluating politicians or TV shows?  For that matter, is this just me and my tendency towards excessive positivity? Are other students out there using the full range? OTOH, I've been known to "round up" in a case where I know my classmates are "rounding down" for the wrong reasons--once, for example, someone straight-up told me that she was giving a female professor "a horrible evaluation" for being "too demanding and aggressive about her ideas." You better bet I gave all 7s and wrote a glowing review of the professor's "high standards", "commitment to student excellence" and "willingness to incorporate expertise from her own research." I did think she was a great professor, but the line between evaluation and polemic was a little blurred.

So what do you think? How do you use evaluations, particularly the quantitative measures?

How to (successfully) write a paper in one night

A classmate and midnight chat buddy asked me the other day for advice on writing a paper the night before the deadline, which I was pleased to offer, having done this once or twice. Or, you know, my entire first two years of college. Now, we all know this is a crap idea and that you really shouldn't do it...but sometimes you do. And here's how I'd make the best of it:

1) Take a little time to prepare. In my experience, you probably have notes and outlines already, because this is about the fact that you suffer from crippling self-doubt, not the fact that you're a slacker. In that case, take a few minutes to refresh your memory and make a plan for the paper. At this point, you don't have much time for revision, so it's all about choosing a structure and sticking to it.

2) And then start writing. The one good thing about last-minute writing is that it removes all options. It's too late for procrastination. Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead.

3) After an hour, get up and walk around the block/library/house. Do not skip this--it is what keeps your mind sharp and prevents you from going off the rails with one of those last-minute ideas that sounds great at 3am but is actually batshit crazy.

4) Take care of your body. I know this is counterintuitive when you're spending all night in front of a glowy screen, but there are some rules that will keep you going strong. Eat lots of high-protein snacks. Sugar is good, but only if you have a constant supply, or you'll crash. Caffeine is your friend, but go slow. If you up your intake too much, you'll probably lose your ability to focus, and might feel sick. Food without coffee is doable, coffee without food is a disaster. Drink plenty of water. Having to pee will keep you awake.

5) When you feel like you will never get it done and you're starting to doze, put on really loud sing-along music and do your bibliography. Print it out and feel successful.

6) If you're almost done in the wee hours of the morning, stop before the conclusion and take a quick nap. Yes, you will feel like crap when you wake up, but that's why God invented the caramel latte and lox spread. Leaving yourself the conclusion for tomorrow forces you to read through the paper, gives your fresh brain a chance to squeeze in a little more smart, and helps you catch the batshit crazy that may have snuck in, despite your best efforts.

7) Don't waste time beating yourself up about procrastinating. It is now too late. Channel Leo McGarry of  The West Wing- "Get it done."

8) Tomorrow, after you've turned it in, when you suddenly feel like crying and quitting school? Go to bed. Even if it's noon.

Next time, useful (not just preachy!) tips on how to avoid this situation.

With love,
Your correspondent.