nerves

i probably had one of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life yesterday. no, i didn't have to give a speech but i might as well have. yesterday we got back our modern England papers. everyone wrote on the samething which was basically as follows:

which of the changes was most important in the late 18^th and early 19^th century in britain: politics, economics, familial, or cultural? which of these changes would have the most effect on people's lives? which, if any, of these changes was revolutionary? [hint: be sure to consider class and gender in your answer.]

ok, i can deal. not the worst thing she could possibly assign though at the moment of writing the thing i thought i was going to die. anyway, last week she announces how disappointed she is in our writing and reading comprehension and that the grades aren't what she was hoping for, etc. monday she stated that she would give the papers back at the end of class and then she kind of shakes her head and continues with the lesson. finally, paper hand-out time comes and she stands up and makes this huge long speech:

"now i don't know whether everyone is not understanding the readings or if everyone is just not reading. i'm hoping it's the former.we're going to talk about this paper now since it's the first paper and you always have to talk about the first paper. i told you what i wanted. i stood up here and explained exactly what i wanted. i told you not to begin sentences with 'it is' or 'it was'. have the courage of your convictions! if i told you i wanted page numbers in the bottom center of the page, that's where i wanted them. if i told you i wanted one inch margins all the way around, there had better be one inch margins all the way around. follow instructions people.

"your grades... like i said, they weren't what i was hoping. i lay awake all weekend dreading monday when i'd have to tell you how you did. i don't like giving bad grades. i know everyone says 'oh, she doesn't like me. she always gives bad grades.' but i really don't like giving bad grades. makes me feel bad. i won't give a grade you don't deserve though.

"now, the range of grades is this: there was one a-, there were 4 b's, and the rest were c's or c-'s. i almost never give people f's. the only way you can get an f is if you don't do it or you turn it in really late. on that note, i'm going to hand back your papers and then you may go. oh, and i have a manditory 48 hour wait before you can ask me questions so go back, calm down, and read my remarks."

if that isn't nail-biting, hair-pulling, nerve-wracking i don't know what is. i'm not sure about anyone else but i was practically dying in my seat right there. i was so sure i got this horrible grade and i'd never be able to look my prof in the face again. i get mine back and the first thing i see is pencil mark all over it (she doesn't like red ink). there's hardly a white spot to be seen on the paper. at this point i'm sure i'm one of those c's. there are 14 people in my class and having only 5 get above a c my chances weren't good. it takes me a while to actually find my grade among the scribbles and at first glance i slam it back down on the desk and stare at it. a soft, nervous giggle escapes me and i peek at it again. there, on the back of the last page is a small "84". hallelujah! i'm a b!