Mid-terms. Fear driven by panic. Students run by clutching coffee and books with papers sticking out haphazardly. Pens stuck behind ears, hair that's clearly unwashed and in terrible disarray. Some hole themselves in their rooms with study guides, books spread out, empty bottles of energy drinks tossed about. Some board themselves up in the libraries with the same scene, but joining other desperate souls in neighboring cubicles. Some scream and cry, tear at their hair, and sob uncontrollably at the fate that awaits them. While others roam the campus with blank, wide-eyed stares, muttering to themselves in an incomprehensible language. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, the students wade through the pit of despair that accompanies exam week. If one falls behind, no one will stop to help. Every student for himself. It's not pretty.
That's how I remember mid-term week. That's what my students look like now. I watch their faces crumble and grow pale(er) as I hand them the six page, 75 multiple choice, fill in the blank, short answer, and essay question mid-term. My ears perk at the cries, gasps, and swear words (today it was shit. The kids can't say "strange" correctly, but the swear words they've got down to an art.). A slow grin spreads across my face as they file out after they've finished, faces aghast at the horror of my mid-term. They go to join the others, muttering, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.
I prop my feet on my desk, and with a latte in one hand and a red pen in the other, I start to decide their fate...I mean grade their tests. The grass really is greener on the other side.
This gif reminded me of your blogpost. If your students only knew the depths of your Schadenfreude: http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/49341217760/when-my-teacher-wishes-us-good-luck-before-the-test
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