17 December 2003 ~ Sweet sixteen...

I had my evaluation conference yesterday with my professors... Initially, I was so nervous that I actually found myself shaking.

Evergreen doesn't give out normal "grades" like other schools. But they do give you "credits." As in, if you sign up for a four-credit class, you automatically either pass it or you fail it, without getting a letter grade or a number grade. But, if you don't do well, or don't try very hard, you might only get three of your four credits.

This is lousy for a couple of reasons. First of all, you pay for each credit you attempt, so if you lose one, you've paid up to $400 for something you do not have. Second, while your transcript doesn't report things like how you fared on final exams (beats the shit out of me why professors want to give finals, when they can't put the grades in the transcripts...), the transcript DOES say how many credits you attempted, AND how many you got. So, if you're trying for sixteen, and you only get four, your future employers, and your future grad schools know about it.

The thing is, I REALLY did not deserve sixteen credits this quarter. I got lazy. I was a shitty student this quarter. I didn't even BUY half of the books, much less READ them. I mean this literally; there were eight books, and I bought four of them. I wrote my essays on books I hadn't read. Yeah, seriously. Some of them were really quite good, as essays go. Very convincing. But I still hadn't read the books. I was absent for THREE classes (approximately 10% of the class time), and every single day, I walked in at least five or ten minutes late. I stopped writing things for workshops, and just started reading off things I'd written months earlier. I didn't attend workshops, I didn't attend readings, I stopped taking notes after Week 3... I really was a piss-poor student this quarter. On top of all of this, I really didn't LIKE the program.

*sigh*

The really sad thing was, I hadn't lost ONE credit since I started at Evergreen. Generally, this is the equivalent of having a straight-A average. Really, all it means is that I did all of the required work, and generally tried really hard at stuff. But I was raised in public schools, and I'm too damaged to really comprehend the idea that I'm REALLY not getting normal grades. To me, getting sixteen credits out of sixteen attempted credits, is like getting an "A." And it sure as hell would be a shame to lose credits NOW... I've got two quarters left before graduation! I REALLY want my transcript to sparkle. Really.

I'm not outwardly a perfectionist. As a matter of fact, a good number of friends and acquaintances probably think of me as a slacker. I never write back to people on time. I never join community groups, or call people to go out to Denny's or whatever. By all appearances, I mostly just sit around on my ass doing nothing. The only area of my life that doesn't make me look like a slacker is my book. It's about 150 pages now, give or take. Admittedly, that's 150 pages over the course of, like, six months, which REALLY isn't all THAT impressive... It's the equivalent of less than a page per day. But I like to carry that binder around, so that people will ask what I've got, and I can show them I'm not REALLY a slacker... Not really...

And the truth is, I'm NOT a slacker. Quite the opposite. The truth is, I'm such a fucking perfectionist -- I mean, compulsively -- that I'm often paralyzed by my own standards. As in, I'm a very all-or-nothing person. I can't do it unless it's going to be perfect. I can't even do the damned laundry unless I also have time to sweep the bedroom floor, clean the bathroom, and take a shower afterwards. Consequently, I rarely do laundry. I can't put my books on the shelf unless I put them in order: subject, author's nationality, author, year of original publication... Consequently, there are books lying all over the house that I simply cannot just put on the shelf out of order. I MEAN it; I'm REALLY like this. I know I sound like I have a stick up my ass, and it's true, but I also look like a total freaking slob. Also, in school, I'm constantly waiting until the last moment, and reading a 200-page book in one day, and then writing a five-page paper two hours before it's due.

Anyway, I was unbearably sad about not having done anything all quarter for this class. It wasn't so much that I would have enjoyed the class more than I did, because the class really did suck, and I'm assured I would have hated it no matter what. But I was disappointed in myself for not making that transcript perfect... There was NO WAY my professors were going to grant me full credit for the shitty work I did. For the shitty work I DIDN'T do, also...

I've heard a million horror stories about losing credits. Once, I took a mini-survey of my co-workers at the Writing Center: "Have you ever lost credit?" Only one person, out of maybe ten, had not... And the Writing Center people are some of the best and the brightest, or at least the hardest working. I SOOOOOO badly want to stay among the few, the proud, the students who haven't lost credits.........

Oh well, I thought.

It really was my own fault.

Not that THAT knowledge really does me much good.

Anyway...

So, I went to my evaluation conference, ready for the worst. Well, not quite THE worst... The worst would be receiving fewer than twelve credits. If I dropped below twelve, I'd lose my financial aid, and wouldn't be able to continue school. I was sort of hoping for fourteen, at least...

"So," asked my professor, "How do you think you've done this quarter?"

It was all I could do not to get on my knees and beg: "Puh-LEEEEEEAAAAASE give me all my credits! PLEEEEEEEEASE!"

I didn't do that. Very calmly, I said: "Well, I think I've done my best... I guess sometimes my best got turned in a little bit late, but I did always do my best."

OH, what a lie!

What a nasty, nasty LIE!

I was so ashamed.

So, I started pouring out the truth... Well, some of the truth... I didn't mention all of the books I hadn't read, or the papers I hadn't written, etc. I said: "Yeah, I had a lot of frustration in this class... It was really very challenging for me... I really didn't like a lot of the stuff I read [see that? artfully neglecting to mention the stuff I didn't read!], and some of the guest speakers were very difficult for me to listen to... Also, I got so frustrated with my workshop group that it was hard to go home every week and write something to share with them... [see that? artfully neglecting to mention that I STOPPED writing workshop things ages and ages ago...]"

My professor said, "Well, I'm actually REALLY surprised to hear that out of YOU..."

Me: "Really? Why?"

Him: "Well, because you always seemed so on top of things! And your poetry is really the work of a very experienced writer..."

HAH!!!

He went on: "As a matter of fact, your poem, 'The Sound of No Planes Flying' was one of the high points of the quarter."

I couldn't believe it. There were fifty freaking people in this class, and everyone turned in at least 10 poems... And my professor remembered the title of MY poem, out of 500+ pieces? What the hell? I almost shit myself. Dude didn't even remember my NAME throughout most of the quarter, but he remembered my poem? That piece of shit I assembled out of prose journal entries about September 11th?

I scrambled to recover myself. "Well, see, I had a lot of problems, really, but I started to get better at dealing with them over the last two or three weeks of the quarter..."

My professor said: "Your problem is, you're a perfectionist. You've got this personality that won't allow you to break grammatical and syntactical rules in your writing. This is what's holding you back from writing more of the quality work we've seen from you this quarter."

I said: "Yeah, I wasn't as prolific as I should have been."

He said: "You think in 'shoulds' and 'oughts.'"

"Well, I guess you're right; I do."

"One thing you might consider, is going into teaching. You're a very advanced writer, and with a grasp on the rules of the language, you'd be an excellent choice for a composition teacher."

I said: "Yeah, and also, I'm a well-known Grammar Nazi."

He said: "Perfect. Have you ever considered that option? Teaching composition? It's actually a great field to go into right now. Every college that's hiring is sending out desperate notices for composition teachers..."

Me: "REALLY??? That's what I'm going to be! I mean... wait... I'm the only one who wants to be a composition teacher?"

Him: "Looks like it! Oh, one more thing... we haven't talked about the matter of your credits... Do you want them distributed differently? So far, I've just got them like so..."

He turned his computer screen toward me...

I sort of gulped.

For a second, I was too scared to look....

...

...but...

He had given me sixteen credits. Probably two or three of which I didn't deserve. But he gave them to me...

I'll be damned.

What the fuck do you have to do at this school to REALLY be a bad student?

So... Helena Thomas is still, sort of, a straight-A student.

I'm going to give myself a freaking ulcer...

~Helena*