October 4, 2006 @ 7:01 am | Filed under: School Stuff

"There is nothing to fear except the persistent refusal to find out the truth, the persistent refusal to analyze the causes of happenings." – Dorothy Thompson

___________________________

The day of truth had dawned.

The clock struck ten o’clock and, again, Dr. J strode into the room with every bit as much purpose as she had on the previous Thursday. In her arms she carried what was most obviously our exams, which she plunked down on her desk and then fixed us with a steely gaze.

"I have to tell you that out of all my classes, THIS class had the lowest exam average." She didn’t even wait for that little bit of cheery news to digest. "The average in here was…a 63."

I don’t know what I feared the most: the results of my own exam or the tone in her voice and the expression on her face. The material I had committed to memory still hovered in my consciousness, names, events, places of importance. Despite my earlier doubts, I knew I had done my best. Still, you know I have that need to do well…uh, in everything.

"Here’s the results of the exam." Dr. J walked to the whiteboard and proceeded to list the following: 5 A’s, 7 B’s, 6 C’s, 1 D, and <gulp> 18 F’s."

I quickly glanced around, trying to mentally calculate where I might fall in this group. I’d certainly make it into the top twelve, right? A guaranteed A or B, surely.

Still…

Dr. J leaned over her desk, anchored her hands on the edge, and gave the most…awful…speech.

"Some of you seem to be operating under some kind of misguided preconception that community college is ‘play college.’ But it’s not. This is the real thing, and if you want any of your credits to transfer to a four-year university then – "

She broke off and, really, basically glared at us.

" – YOU’D BETTER LEARN TO STUDY!!!"

Ouch. Can you say panic attack, part deaux?

Finally the moment of truth approached. She began to call out names and I watched with compassion as one kid after another went up and snatched their fate from her hands. Their faces were transparent, and it was easy to tell the ones who’d managed to pass and the ones who fell into the F category. My mother’s heart went out to them, and I temporarily forgot about my own trepidation.

"Ms. Wilder."

I eased from my chair and moved up the aisle. Taking the paper from her, I held it to my side until I’d reached my desk. Even then I was…scared. Slowly, I turned it over, careful to keep the result hidden from any inquiring eyes around me.

My heart pounded and, again, I felt a few twinges of actual pain. It was the kind of pounding that you feel in your ears, you know?

The red numbers looked huge to my eyes and I stared a few seconds, making sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

Then I breathed. Deeply.

96.