About a week ago, I had a student come into my office after
her Property exam. She tearfully told me that she didn’t finish the exam
because she had only left herself twenty minutes for the last question (where
the exam had apportioned one hour). Nothing I said, or could have said (I
now realize) made her feel any better. She left my office weeping.
About thirty minutes later I left the building on my way home and saw an
ambulance out front. I was frantic–had my student succumbed to the
Property exam? I actually looked inside the ambulance to find out.
It wasn’t her and I was greatly relieved, but I still felt that I offered her
no comfort.
And that bothered me. I have both described and criticized as being very
maternal in my support style. Under rare and appropriate circumstances
(and with consent and all sorts signed waiver forms), I will hug. I
always have candy and tissues. I have helped students find bridesmaids
dresses and doctor referrals, but I could not help this student.
I told my tearful student that it was not the end of the world; but to her it
was. I told her that knowing her, the rest of the exam was great and what
she did manage to write for the last question would probably have been another
student’s best effort given all the time in the world. She wasn’t buying
it. She asked about having to repeat the class if she failed. I
truly do not believe that she failed, but I answered her questions after
prefacing them with my belief that the information provided would not be useful
for her. She stormed out of my office more upset than when she entered.
Basically, short of tap dancing (which would have been an ill-advised attempt
at humor); I had used up my repertoire of "it’s ok" tricks. My
firm belief in her intelligence and preparedness wasn’t enough and that is
okay. I was more worried that since this was the first exam for first
year students that her belief in herself was shot as well. I haven’t seen
her since and I don’t expect to. I doubt she realizes that I am still worried
about her or that I scared some lovely Boston paramedics by sticking my head in their ambulance because I thought she might
be that distraught.
Today, another student came to me and complained about the same exam. I
asked him if he finished it, and he said yes. His problem: the exam
was too hard. Why? Well, he said that he had been surprised that there
was a whole essay question on future interests on the test. He had
believed, based on his empirical analysis of prior exams that future interests
only appeared on the multiple choice part of the exam. I assured him that
if he had studied well for the multiple choice that he was also prepared for an
essay. He disagreed. So, I told him, in contrast to the first
student, that the singer they voted off of American Idol on Wednesday was far
more surprising than a future interests question on a property exam (in fact it
was downright shocking, I thought the guy was a shoe-in, but that is another
story for another blog).
In the end he wanted to know if I thought he should ask the professor if was
going to fail. I told him that the professor had probably not graded the
exams yet and that his answer was likely to be, "I can’t tell you
yet;" and that would not provide any comfort at all and might, in fact,
be more upsetting. Again, I doubt I’ll see him again.
In the end, I think I my reactions to these two students indicate that I have
achieved complete ASP motherhood. And in that vain, I wish myself and all
the rest of the ASP mothers out there, a Happy Mother’s Day. (ezs)
