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Your Best Exam Stories?
KevlarGorilla asks: "I'm sure Slashdot users have done their fair share of university exams. A good portion may be going through the process right now. Many tales have been floating around the internet about cheating (successful and not), cram stories, and tales of post-test celebration, most often in the testing room itself. Recall any first-hand experiences and write them down in a few short paragraphs. If you've been waiting to clear your conscience, or share your experiences, now is the time."
It sucked. I didn't really get it. I hated the prof, he was an idiot who didn't teach. Okay, it's quite possible that he wasn't an idiot, but he sure as heck couldn't teach. When I can't respect a teacher, I don't learn. So it's the final, and I've spend hours upon hours cramming for the test. I'm waiting with friends outside the room and the whole thing totally comes down on me. I'm smart but doing poorly in college, I'm 1000+ miles from home and I most don't want to admit defeat, or be convinced to go back home. At best I can get a B in the class, but I'm totally scared that I don't know enough to pass the final. I'd not gotten a B in a science class since 8th grade (and it's because I had no respect for the teacher then either). So, being a girl, start to cry. I hate the fact that it's so easy to be forced to tears, but there they are, dripping and slipping down my face. My friends (both guys) attempt to comfort me, and I manage to pull myself together and walk into the room dry-eyed.
Then the professor hands out the test.
Page 1, damn.
Page 2, shit.
Page 3, WTF? I hardly recognize anything!
Page 4, tears.
I sniff and snurffle my way through the exam. It's multiple choice, but the way they do the exams, if you don't answer the question you 0 points and if you answer it wrong you get negative points (so guessing is not going to work, even educated guesses are a risk), and the answers are all plausible (which is the most frustrating part.)
I finish, and dry my eyes long enough to turn the test in, the professor totally oblivoius.
A week later when they post the scores, I scroll to my ID, and I got 69%. SIXTY NINE PERCENT? I run to the top of the page to see the average (they grade on a bell curve). 31%. THIRTY ONE PERCENT??
Holy Mother of Physics, I friggin' doubled the AVERAGE? Only three people score higher. Sweet. (Of course, I probably didn't think "sweet" back then, it was over a decade ago.)
Oh, and I cheated on 4th grade spelling tests by sitting on the spelling book and looking at the words between my legs. I can't spell too well these days, so I suffer from that. And I told one person at the time, and somehow she managed to nearly fall out of her chair with the book while attempting to do the same thing. I stopped after that.
In Soviet Russia, asses suck this joke.
I loved being the girl in the programming courses doing the same thing. It was usually 10:1 guys to gals in them, and I'd wear my shortest skirt and sit the furthest from the door so that when I got done first, I'd have to meander through the tables and chairs to turn in my test.
In Soviet Russia, asses suck this joke.
My neighbor showed me this back in 8th grade - he swore by this method. Take a wooden #2 pencil, and use a razor blade to slice it in half. Tape the two halves together on one side, so the pencil can be flipped open and closed. Write out whatever kind of crib sheet you need on mailing labels (in the smallest type you can). Then stick the label inside the pencil, and use the blade to trim off any excess label margins. Bring the pencil to your exam, and when the teacher isn't looking - flip it open to consult your notes. He claims he was never busted using this method...
One particular question was the atomic mass of a particular ion, something involving a few carbon atoms. I gave him the answer, minus about 6. Another question, another ion, I think it was a dichromate, which IIRC has 7 oxygen atoms. You get the wrong answer if you think it only has 4.
In the end, I got 95%, and he scored in the high 50's. I doubt he ever figured out that I had given him deliberately bad answers.
In the end, the coach pressured the teacher to pass him anyway, so he wouldn't lose his academic eligibility. I take great comfort in seeing him now on a Megan's List website for my home state, and his address is listed as "Incarcerated."
-paul
Pistol caliber is like religion: everyone has their favourite, and theirs is the only right choice.
My last final of my first quarter of college was calculus. I was doing ok in the class and went out about a half hour before the test started to unlock my bicycle and ride to the test. I got to the bike rack and my bike wasn't there. I ran around for a bit looking for other places I might have placed it until I saw a bit of the lock on the ground where I had actually left it. I then ran in sandals to the final and got there 30 minutes late. Between the running, being upset about being late, and being upset about the bike being stolen I completely bombed it. I got a B- in the class.
It was a year before I took another math class. A friend came by the night before the test and asked me if I would go over the whole course with him since he hadn't gone to class. Teaching someone else really is the best review. I finished a three hour final in 20 minutes. As I walked to the front with my test someone asked, "Are you just giving up?" "I sure am!" I replied. I got a 97.
Later still I had two Portuguese classes on the same day. One was a Phd level course that I was the only undergrad in and I had a presentation to give for a full hour. I spent the entire day preparing for it and skipped my other classes. Two days later I show up in my other Portuguese class which was mostly full of jocks. A girl from the volleyball team asked me if I was dropping the class. I asked why she would think that. "Well, you didn't show up for the mid-term on Tuesday..." I suddenly realized what had happened. I went up to the prof after class and he was very nice about it. He said I could take an oral exam on the spot in place of the midterm. Halfway through my first response he stopped me, told me it was clear that I was the only person in the class that had read the material, and offered me a scholarship to study in Lisbon that summer. I should have skipped more mid-terms...
Lasers Controlled Games!
C++ Final. The bulk of the grade was actually the programming. The final was only worth 20% of the grade, but failing the final was an automatic failure of the class (threat, prof actually handed out incompletes). Anyway, we're allowed one page of notes for the test. I decide to type the code listing of the last program of the text since it used every aspect of C++ covered in the textbook.
The final exam is the exact program and several pages of questions about it. I finished in record time with a perfect score. I even corrected unintentional typos on the exam. Unfortunately, I think I've used my lifetime store of luck for that one test.
I'm one of those bastards with the near photographic memory, so I would never study, and just show up to a test like any other day, and ace the tests. (Usually 90%+)
But the last final I ever took in college was my scariest. I hadn't attended the class since the mid-term, the teacher was just so horrible, I was convinced I could learn better from the book. So, I avoided my STAT class, and forgot entirely to read the book. End of the year came around, and I realized, that this was the only class I wasn't sure about passing and I needed it to graduate.
I teamed up with another guy in the same boat as me (we both had good mid-term scores, but then neglected the rest of the class.) We both ended up studying till all hours of the night.
I walked into class after this rigerous night of studying and took the test, I ended up with an almost perfect score, and what with the curve, I actually ended up with an A in the course.
Afterwards, I walked out of the building to walk home, and to my surprise my car was parked there in the teachers' lot. I had driven it in during the night when it was allowed to park there, and entirely forgot about it.
I am unamerican, and proud of it!