I Knew Fear
Some professors ask questions like a Gatling gun. Quick, unceasing, and hitting a lot of students. That's really not so bad. You get called on, you don't know the answer, after a brief 3 seconds, the prof moves on and asks your classmate to help you out.
But some professors ask questions like a medieval torture device. It's long, laborious, and it's only you on the hot seat. That's what happened to me today. To compound the general devastation one would feel due to just public anxiety itself, the questioning happened to be about a case I had not fully prepped for. Oh sure, I had skimmed it before class time, but legal briefs can NOT just be skimmed. It's not like girly magazines (unfortuneately for me, all I've known).
So there I was, cold sweat dampening my palms. My voice dropped to a low throaty alto and I knew fear. It must be like blood in the water, profs can just smell an unprepared student that they can readily devour.
As Prof S. continued with his questions it was as if time had stopped. Like a movie in slow motion, I could see myself in an out-of-body-experience kind of way. I saw my future flash before me. I imagined what my classmates must be thinking to themselves. "I knew that legally blonde chick was dumb." "How did she ever get in?"
I would never get into a study group. Who would want to study with me if they felt like they would just be pulling my weight? And when I graduated on the bottom of my class, my professional reputation would be ruined because all my classmates would shun me forever.
"Ms. Chung, why did the court not argue the defendant's constitutional rights?"
"Um. The...court...felt that the state law would better protect the workers' human, uh humane rights?" Humane rights? What the heck was I saying?! Humane rights are for dogs and cats!
"Ms. Chung, why did the court feel that way?"
"Uh, the...court...uh...didn't really elaborate on that point." (sheepish smile).
"Ms. Chung, it's on page 110, paragraph 2, read it to the class."
Read it to the class?! Not only am I so deficient that I can't be trusted to do analysis, but now I can't even read what it plainly states in the book! I tried to read the passage with as much dignity as I could salvage, slowly, deliberately, with emphatic pauses. But I fear it was too late.
After this final humiliation, the questions ceased and the prof moved on to his next target. I slumped in my chair and felt faint.
When class was over I went to the restroom to find a long line of my female classmates waiting to use the stalls. None of them would talk to me. None of them even acknowledged my presence, though they happily gabbed with each other. I turned to look in the bathroom mirror. The image that peered back had dishevelled hair, blotchy skin, and puffy, sleep-deprived eyes.
But thank God for my friend Antonio*. When I left the bathroom feeling like I had just been flushed down the toilet, Antonio came up to me and said, "Good job in class."
*All names have been changed to protect student's identities.
But some professors ask questions like a medieval torture device. It's long, laborious, and it's only you on the hot seat. That's what happened to me today. To compound the general devastation one would feel due to just public anxiety itself, the questioning happened to be about a case I had not fully prepped for. Oh sure, I had skimmed it before class time, but legal briefs can NOT just be skimmed. It's not like girly magazines (unfortuneately for me, all I've known).
So there I was, cold sweat dampening my palms. My voice dropped to a low throaty alto and I knew fear. It must be like blood in the water, profs can just smell an unprepared student that they can readily devour.
As Prof S. continued with his questions it was as if time had stopped. Like a movie in slow motion, I could see myself in an out-of-body-experience kind of way. I saw my future flash before me. I imagined what my classmates must be thinking to themselves. "I knew that legally blonde chick was dumb." "How did she ever get in?"
I would never get into a study group. Who would want to study with me if they felt like they would just be pulling my weight? And when I graduated on the bottom of my class, my professional reputation would be ruined because all my classmates would shun me forever.
"Ms. Chung, why did the court not argue the defendant's constitutional rights?"
"Um. The...court...felt that the state law would better protect the workers' human, uh humane rights?" Humane rights? What the heck was I saying?! Humane rights are for dogs and cats!
"Ms. Chung, why did the court feel that way?"
"Uh, the...court...uh...didn't really elaborate on that point." (sheepish smile).
"Ms. Chung, it's on page 110, paragraph 2, read it to the class."
Read it to the class?! Not only am I so deficient that I can't be trusted to do analysis, but now I can't even read what it plainly states in the book! I tried to read the passage with as much dignity as I could salvage, slowly, deliberately, with emphatic pauses. But I fear it was too late.
After this final humiliation, the questions ceased and the prof moved on to his next target. I slumped in my chair and felt faint.
When class was over I went to the restroom to find a long line of my female classmates waiting to use the stalls. None of them would talk to me. None of them even acknowledged my presence, though they happily gabbed with each other. I turned to look in the bathroom mirror. The image that peered back had dishevelled hair, blotchy skin, and puffy, sleep-deprived eyes.
But thank God for my friend Antonio*. When I left the bathroom feeling like I had just been flushed down the toilet, Antonio came up to me and said, "Good job in class."
*All names have been changed to protect student's identities.
posted by Alice in Wonderland at 5:15 PM
2 Comments:
well, sister, being one who also rarely appears in class fully prepared, i have but one word of advice: next time you should look down contritely and say, i'm afraid i don't know. there's only one thing professors sense better than fear, and that's fudging.
aish... that sucks... gotta prepare like crazy next time! sophia (park) said there were people in her class who would memorize all the minutiae of briefs. some would overachievers. but i surmise they've all had experiences quite similar to yours. hang in there!
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