Grades.
I find it terrible that a post intended to break a 7-month long hiatus from the blogging scene is unfortunately devoted to something as unpalatable as test scores. In a very twisted sort of way, though, it merely proves my point -- that something as insignificant and minute as a blood-red scribble at the top of your Mathematics paper, for instance, can crush your hopes and dreams and mire your ravished soul in insurmountable emotional turmoil.
This infamously dictatorial grip that grades have on an individual's emotions are painfully obvious in the reputedly elitist establishment that I purport to hail from. The contrast between the obnoxious arrogance that accompanies massive expectations in this melting pot of wannabe-elite dickheads and the forcible humility and anguish that characterizes those defeated by their grades is disgusting, repulsive, and pitiful (if only because it looks so pathetic). A case in point is a friend of mine who was so recently vanquished by his English grades. His dejection was possibly quite understandable -- after all, English was something he could "always count on" for good scores. Still, it didn't quite explain his abrupt change in disposition, where he instantly dropped all (pretensions of) pleasant good humor, and suddenly descended into a sort of self-deprecating brooding. Indeed, the only time where he decided to make even the slightest whimper was to snap back sarcastically at me when I tried (obviously to no avail) to cheer him up.
Instantly, the intelligent reader (of whom I doubt there will be very many) will catch that my reason for only just starting to detest the concept of testing is very personal. And I wouldn't argue otherwise. It is clear that what initiated deep reflection about the establishment of testing is the fact that a certain someone went all ballistic towards me because he was mad about English. And yet, however self-indulgent and subjective the entirety of the following exposition will seem, there is undoubtedly going to be an element of truth hidden somewhere inside. Maybe.
After all, if you think about it, it must mean something that tests can provoke such a massive, if unintentional, revision in attitude. Often, that revision is negative. As evidenced by the aforementioned example, tests only serve to exacerbate tensions and generate altercations. Fundamentally, tests play on our inherent, and possibly inevitable, fear of failure. Nobody, not least the supercilious sons-of-bitches that walk the halls of our sacred institution, likes to fail. Indeed, half of us don't even believe that we are capable of failing. Being housed in an ivory tower, shielded from the cold realities of... reality, instills in the average RI boy a sense of invulnerability. It lends itself very well to the whole idea of invincibility, then, that we are known as the "hope of a better age" -- as if we deserve to be assured of a future in various positions of leadership simply because we are categorized as being uniquely Rafflesian.
Tests, then, are seemingly intended, at least in a chronic-overachiever sort of context, to further solidify and ground us in the impression that we are better than all the mere mortals who maraud outside the sacrosanct halls of RI. We are thus subject to test upon test, assessment after assessment, because testing is apparently an important step in "gauging progress" and to prove beyond doubt that we are smart people.
The crushing truth of believing in such a misguided delusion, however, is that we tie our fates to tests. To prove that you are worthy of a H3 in literature, for instance, you need at least a 3.2 GPA. If you somehow scrape a 2.4, but manage a 100% for literature, I hardly think that RJC will consent to let you take advanced literature in JC, because you "cannot cope with the coursework". Does it mean you stink at literature? Hardly. Will you take it to mean that way? Certainly. And why is that so? Because the establishment's idea of grading is that it is a sort of litmus test -- are we suited for the vast depths of academia, or should we consign ourselves to mediocrity?
The point is that grades are not indicative of ability. This is particularly true for subjects where grading is ostensibly subject to personal preference (hello, Aruna!). And yet, people trust grades, mostly because of an innate inferiority complex that betrays an outward portrayal of confidence. We never trust our own judgment -- numbers are infinitely more reliable than us. And thus that red scribble on the top of an English paper is allowed to reign supreme over simple common sense, and govern our emotional well-being. The boy whose English grade so disturbed his fragile mental equilibrium, then, is allowing an injudicious measurement of "metacognition" overrule his claim to the throne of God of the English Department.
The reader ought to beware, of course, of the implications of agreeing wholeheartedly with this blog post. I am not advocating the complete abolition of testing. That is patently ridiculous, because of various (and very obvious) practical issues, and because it is not my place to comment on something I have been similarly consumed by. I fear just as much as the next person of failing my Mathematics test (although that is a foregone conclusion at this point in time), and doing badly for Social Studies, and acknowledge that a failure to achieve a scholarship of some form because of poor grades is testament to my failure in life.
Perhaps, if anything, this is a testament to the fact that we must all come to embrace the inequalities extended to us by an unequivocal conformity to that regrettably draconian process known as test grading.
This infamously dictatorial grip that grades have on an individual's emotions are painfully obvious in the reputedly elitist establishment that I purport to hail from. The contrast between the obnoxious arrogance that accompanies massive expectations in this melting pot of wannabe-elite dickheads and the forcible humility and anguish that characterizes those defeated by their grades is disgusting, repulsive, and pitiful (if only because it looks so pathetic). A case in point is a friend of mine who was so recently vanquished by his English grades. His dejection was possibly quite understandable -- after all, English was something he could "always count on" for good scores. Still, it didn't quite explain his abrupt change in disposition, where he instantly dropped all (pretensions of) pleasant good humor, and suddenly descended into a sort of self-deprecating brooding. Indeed, the only time where he decided to make even the slightest whimper was to snap back sarcastically at me when I tried (obviously to no avail) to cheer him up.
Instantly, the intelligent reader (of whom I doubt there will be very many) will catch that my reason for only just starting to detest the concept of testing is very personal. And I wouldn't argue otherwise. It is clear that what initiated deep reflection about the establishment of testing is the fact that a certain someone went all ballistic towards me because he was mad about English. And yet, however self-indulgent and subjective the entirety of the following exposition will seem, there is undoubtedly going to be an element of truth hidden somewhere inside. Maybe.
After all, if you think about it, it must mean something that tests can provoke such a massive, if unintentional, revision in attitude. Often, that revision is negative. As evidenced by the aforementioned example, tests only serve to exacerbate tensions and generate altercations. Fundamentally, tests play on our inherent, and possibly inevitable, fear of failure. Nobody, not least the supercilious sons-of-bitches that walk the halls of our sacred institution, likes to fail. Indeed, half of us don't even believe that we are capable of failing. Being housed in an ivory tower, shielded from the cold realities of... reality, instills in the average RI boy a sense of invulnerability. It lends itself very well to the whole idea of invincibility, then, that we are known as the "hope of a better age" -- as if we deserve to be assured of a future in various positions of leadership simply because we are categorized as being uniquely Rafflesian.
Tests, then, are seemingly intended, at least in a chronic-overachiever sort of context, to further solidify and ground us in the impression that we are better than all the mere mortals who maraud outside the sacrosanct halls of RI. We are thus subject to test upon test, assessment after assessment, because testing is apparently an important step in "gauging progress" and to prove beyond doubt that we are smart people.
The crushing truth of believing in such a misguided delusion, however, is that we tie our fates to tests. To prove that you are worthy of a H3 in literature, for instance, you need at least a 3.2 GPA. If you somehow scrape a 2.4, but manage a 100% for literature, I hardly think that RJC will consent to let you take advanced literature in JC, because you "cannot cope with the coursework". Does it mean you stink at literature? Hardly. Will you take it to mean that way? Certainly. And why is that so? Because the establishment's idea of grading is that it is a sort of litmus test -- are we suited for the vast depths of academia, or should we consign ourselves to mediocrity?
The point is that grades are not indicative of ability. This is particularly true for subjects where grading is ostensibly subject to personal preference (hello, Aruna!). And yet, people trust grades, mostly because of an innate inferiority complex that betrays an outward portrayal of confidence. We never trust our own judgment -- numbers are infinitely more reliable than us. And thus that red scribble on the top of an English paper is allowed to reign supreme over simple common sense, and govern our emotional well-being. The boy whose English grade so disturbed his fragile mental equilibrium, then, is allowing an injudicious measurement of "metacognition" overrule his claim to the throne of God of the English Department.
The reader ought to beware, of course, of the implications of agreeing wholeheartedly with this blog post. I am not advocating the complete abolition of testing. That is patently ridiculous, because of various (and very obvious) practical issues, and because it is not my place to comment on something I have been similarly consumed by. I fear just as much as the next person of failing my Mathematics test (although that is a foregone conclusion at this point in time), and doing badly for Social Studies, and acknowledge that a failure to achieve a scholarship of some form because of poor grades is testament to my failure in life.
Perhaps, if anything, this is a testament to the fact that we must all come to embrace the inequalities extended to us by an unequivocal conformity to that regrettably draconian process known as test grading.
posted by Jumbiez at
4:35 AM
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