I’m grading summer midterms today, with an eye to passing them back Monday. I gave all three of my summer classes their midterms on Tuesday. In each class, including my women’s history course, the midterm was designed to take ninety minutes. Within that time, students were to answer two out of three essay questions within their blue books.
Yesterday, after my 25B (Women in American Society) class, two of my students asked to meet with me briefly. Both young women were very concerned that they each had done poorly on the exam for the same reason, namely that they had spent too much time answering the first question leaving themselves little time for the second. I gave them my standard spiel about the importance of time management, and reminded them that no matter how poorly they had done on the midterm, a strong final exam could go a long way towards lifting their course grade.
But we also talked briefly about perfectionism. For years, I’ve given the same classic exams: “blue book” essays, with students required to complete two prompts within a given period of time. Each essay is worth 50 points. And I’ve noted that my female students, particularly the very bright ones, often have a great deal of trouble managing their time effectively. Part of the trick of doing well on these exams is learning to let go of the perfectionist desire to write one flawless essay. Spending the full class period crafting one beautiful, elegant paper will earn the student a poor grade. One “50″ (a perfect score) and one “0″ is an F grade; two “35s” will earn a C.
There’s a method to this madness, and its rooted in more than a desire to inflict upon my students the same testing techniques that were inflicted on me. Learning how to write well under time pressure is an important, even vital academic skill. From a pedagogical standpoint, we can debate whether or not that’s as useful a skill as some academics imagine it to be. But there’s little doubt that my students, as they transfer on to four-year institutions, will continue to be exposed to tests that evaluate their competence at writing effectively under time pressure. And as long as these tests are given at places like UCLA, I have an obligation to prepare my students for those exams.
But there’s another purpose too, one that ties in to feminist work. I’ve written a lot about the “Martha Complex”: the relentless pressure that so many young women feel to be “perfect” in every area of their lives. This perfectionism shows up in disordered eating of course, but it also shows up in the tendency of many of the best and brightest to overload themselves with work, volunteer activities, and family obligations. Classic symptoms of the Martha Complex include near-constant anxiety and exhaustion. Not surprisingly, those with the Martha Complex feel a huge pressure to do well on exams. So knowing this, why do I offer the particular sort of tests that I do?
I know that it is impossible to write two complete, perfect answers to two questions in ninety minutes. By asking students to do two questions rather than one, I’m challenging them to think in terms of “good enough” rather than in terms of “the best.” Doing well on these sorts of exams requires that a student stop writing their first answer after forty-five minutes, and then move on to the second. For those with the Martha Complex, it is often especially agonizing to move on from an essay response that they know isn’t yet perfect. “If I only had more time”, the Marthas say, “I could have said so much more!” I always tell them that that’s the point: the lesson is learning to prioritize, to make difficult decisions, and to not let the best become the enemy of the good enough. As with my exams, so too with life; it is axiomatic that the sooner we accept the reality of our own imperfection, the more content we will be with ourselves and the more genuinely useful we can be to the world at large.
Invariably, the majority of students who finish my exams early are male. The ones who are writing up to the last possible second, the sort from whose perspiring hands I almost have to rip their blue books, are nearly always female. This doesn’t mean that my best students are always women, though the majority of my top students generally are. What it does mean is that regardless of class or ethnic background, young women in contemporary society are much more likely to be concerned with “getting it right” than their male peers. And while I want my students to work very hard and do very well, I want them to learn more than just good test-taking skills. I want them to learn to use time to their advantage, and to learn how to walk away from a task when the allotted time is up, regardless of whether or not that task has been done perfectly. And I want to show them strategies for success that don’t involve the relentless, heartbreaking, invariably unsuccessful pursuit of perfection.
And as I told the two women in my class yesterday, a great many students start to learn this lesson between the midterm and the final. And if they learn nothing else, I’m happy.
Hey Hugo! It’s been a while, I know. I hope you remember me. I was one of your students back in 2001 – 2002. Well, I did it! I graduated from a 4 year university. I’ve been following your blog for some time now, and I’ve never felt more obligated to respond to one of your blogs until now. I’ll be honest, I used to hate your tests. I mean really really hate them. I was terrible at managing my time for those tests. I realize now how essential it is to master your time and use it wisely. There are several reasons why you need this skill in a 4 year university. I don’t know if any of your students know this, but the Cal State system requires you to pass an exam called “the GWPE” (Graduating Writing Proficiency Exam) typically taken in your junior or senior year. It consists of two essays (personal & analytical) and they give you about 45 minutes for each one. I did well on mine because by the time I graduated from PCC and taken a few classes at Humboldt State I had perfected my essay writing skills under pressure. I learned what to keep and not to keep in my essays. Anyway, I graduated this May with my BA in Psychology, and looking back your tests were there to help me. I appreciate the fact that you care so much about your students, and I hope they realize eventually that you are not trying to torture them. By the way, if your students are interested in grad school (like I am), they will have to take the GRE at some point which will also require essay writing skills under pressure. I passed the GRE with a decent score and I have been accepted into the School of Social Work at Cal State LA this Fall. I very much enjoy your blogs. They offer so much inspiration for discovering well-written literature, arguments, and political perspectives. You rock! =)
Being pretty cherry myself out the UC, I can definitely attest to the need for writing under pressure (and ditto being on the way to law school). I’ve often been one of those “use every last minute” types on essay questions too.
Just thought I’d throw something in, just my two cents worth. I often find that spending the first few minutes, no more than 5 minutes per question or so, to outline and scratch out some quick notes, basically to come up with a plan of attack to the question, does absolute wonders (maybe 5 minutes each at most for 2 questions with 90 minutes total, remember that’s 80 minutes on “Berkeley time”). Not only does it allow a student to make sure that they get in all the important points that they want to express, it forces one to see right at the outset everything that one has to do in the alloted time, rather than waste time in any one area. It forces one to look at the entire question, and to look at both (or all) questions in concert holistically, which helps prevent duplication and repetition (if they’ve said it well once, even in a previous question, they might be able to abbreviate on a second mention). It also builds confidence. Knowing at the outset everything you want to and need to say saves time thinking about it as well as relieving doubt about whether you’ve got it all in there.
This is my typical essay question drill: skim the entire test on a first read quickly; close my eyes for a minute or less to breathe, clear my head and organize my thoughts; select which questions I’m going to answer (assuming multiple options); outline and note-take, quickly but comprehensively, aiming for a complete plan of attack to the entire test. All of this takes 15 minutes at the absolute longest, and that’s stretching it. Then blaze away at the answers.
A valuable lesson, to be sure, though I wish there were an academic way of instilling it that didn’t involve essays. One of the reasons I became so enamored with computers was because it allowed me to largely stop bothering with (my comically awful at best) handwriting. Then there’s the hand cramps…
“I could have said so much more!†I always tell them that that’s the point:…to not let the best become the enemy of the good enough.
This could be more a personality quirk than a feminist issue. Some people, after all, simply have no concept of “too much information” and automatically think “good enough” means “every iota of pertinent data.”
Cari, how wonderful to hear from you! I’ll email you for more of an update soon.
Craig, a fair point about “every iota of pertinent data” being perceived as necessary. I still note a clear gender distinction in terms of how my students stress about these exams, and I sense — based on anecdotal evidence, of course — that there’s a tie to a broader perfectionism that has a distinctly female face in our culture.
Tom, good tips. As an Old Blue, I would expect nothing less from a Cal Bear.
I can absolutely attest to the value of writing under time pressure in the professional world. I work in politics, and although my main job duties are not writing, I am a speechwriter for an elected official. And it’s not unheard of for me to have 30 minutes notice for a speech he’s going to give. Now, usually, those are brief–he’s only expected to speak for 3 to 5 minutes. But that almost doesn’t matter–the skill that matters is the ability to select a message and *organize* your evidence in under 5 minutes, and then just sit down and pound it out.
If I could make a suggestion, it would be for college professors to require *short* writing assignments with a word limit, not word floor. In grad school, much of my writing was 500 word memos on very complicated subjects. In the working world, I’m rarely asked to fill time or space in a writing assignment. Instead, I have to explain complex policy issues clearly and to a non-expert audience in about 200 words. It’s really, really hard, harder than BS-ing to get to 1500 words on an essay, but I almost never had to do it in college.
Roadrunner, you’d be happy to know that in my Humanities and summer classes, I often give “two page response paper” assignments — and two pages is the maximum as well as the minimum.
Oh Bless your sweet heart, Hugo. As the older gal who went back to finish the degree, and invariably the first one out of the room with the easy one liner pop quizzes and MC/T-F tests, and last one out with the essay tests …you could be any one of my patient profs…
A philosophy prof finally asked me why I had no faith in myself, when it came to writing under time constraints. Had I not mastered the material? My other papers proved I had indeed learned the material. What was my problem…?
Hugo, I was trying to pad my test “essays” because I thought they were too short, abrupt, and for lack of a better word…clinical, lacking style, originality and flow.
I initially didn’t get that my profs didn’t want to read another research paper at midterm and finals.
You bring back bittersweet memories.