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This is Only a Test: Keeping College Exams in Perspective

Featured Author:

Lisa Hardman

My name is Lisa Hardman and I am a thirty-eight-year-old, full-time mother returning to college after an eighteen year break. I live in Highlands Ranch, Colorado with my husband and five children ranging in age from six months to sixteen years. I was raised in Thornton, Colorado and attended the University of Colorado for two years as a Music Performance major on the bassoon. Playing such a unique instrument allowed me the opportunity to perform in such exciting places as New York City and Venice, Italy. It also helped pay my way through college when I was awarded the Wallace F. Fiske Performance Award – the most prestigious award offered by the School of Music at C.U. In addition to my musical achievements, I received a Regent Scholarship, the Dean’s Honor Award, and the Colorado Scholars Award. In 1988, my husband and I married and moved to Utah. Later, my husband’s jobs took us to Washington, California, Arizona and back to Colorado where we have been for the past ten years. Although I postponed completing my degree to raise a family, I have never regretted that decision. Motherhood is by far the greatest education on the planet and I am thoroughly dedicated to raising a strong family in partnership with my husband. This fall, I am enrolled as a part-time student at Arapahoe Community College in Littleton, Colorado. After I complete my general education courses, I will transfer to the University of Colorado and pursue a B.A. in English Composition. I think my life experiences will transfer well into the classroom and I am looking forward to being a serious student again. I welcome the opportunity to mesh my love of writing and my academic experiences with my new job as a columnist for FastWeb.

More articles from this author:

• Mother Load: Surviving the Holidays and the End of the Semester Crunch
• The Courage to Fail
• Accelerated Hybrid Class: A Saner Option

Glancing up from my exam, I noticed two of my classmates handing in their blue books to the professor and leaving the classroom. We were only fifteen minutes into the testing period. Were they already giving up without a struggle? I was amazed that at least a third of the class hadn’t even bothered to show up. Several tardy students were promptly dismissed and told to reschedule the test with the instructor.

Dismayed by my peers’ seeming indifference towards our first examination of the semester, I forced myself to refocus on the task ahead of me—to appropriate enough time to complete eighteen essay questions within a seventy-five minute class period. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even taken a test like this. Was it twenty years ago in a high school English class?

For a “slow cooker” thinker like me, trying to generate a well-thought-out response to each essay question under a time constraint presented a real challenge. Knowing that I would not have the luxury of going back and revising, I struggled with the permanency of writing my answers in pen. I realized just how dependent I had become on my word processing program. Thinking on my feet without the benefit of cutting and pasting or using a spell checker was definitely stretching my brain cells in a new and uncomfortable way. Ultimately, I had to force myself to override my perfectionist tendencies and keep my hand and thoughts moving or I wouldn’t finish the test in time.

Utilizing slow-paced breathing techniques picked up in childbirth classes, I forced myself to relax. I cheered myself on mentally with phrases such as: You know the material, You can do this, and Just keep going. Watching the clock carefully, I allowed myself only a certain number of minutes per question and then moved on.

At last, the torture over, I closed the examination booklet and handed it to my professor. Trembling and a little bit dizzy, I headed to my car reflecting on the unpleasantness of examinations. In my estimation, it ranked right up there with having your teeth drilled at the dentist, getting pulled over by a cop, or getting stung by a wasp.

Several weeks later, as my professor was handing back our exams, she stated that there were a wide range of scores—from high As to low Fs. When I turned over my test booklet and saw my grade, 95 points out of 100, I secretly wanted to perform a little victory dance. Instead, I restrained myself until I got to my car, and then downed a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies on my way home to celebrate the occasion.

I don’t know if the anxiety that accompanies performing under pressure ever entirely goes away, but I know that my ability to cope with stress has improved over the years through continual exposure and practice. Frankly, I’ve done a lot harder things in my life than taking a timed essay exam. Like potholes on the highway of life, tests are a minor annoyance that can be dealt with. You can’t always avoid them, but if you’re prepared to straddle them, they won’t ruin your alignment.