I'm going to see how much of a blog post I can create in less than an hour, because let me tell you: the way I write these things, it generally takes longer than that. But it's already very late, and I have old episodes of Community that I like to watch before I go to bed. My sleeping (and waking) habits haven't exactly been healthy since my classes ending in late March (I still get a kick out of saying that). Either I'm traveling around Europe, getting up at absurb hours and running on fumes in order to catch a bus to take a plane et cetera ad nauseum, or I'm staying here in my flat, and behaving much the same way that I would at home on a break from school, staying up so late it's early and sleeping in past noon. Sometimes it's a habit that suits me and I'm comfortable with it; other times I feel pathetic for it. I feel better knowing that it can't last forever, especially because I have a summer job lined up. So I'm just taking advantage of this "unstructured time" (there's a term left over from high school) while I still have it. And apparently the best use of my time is avoiding daylight and watching NBC sitcom reruns.
None of that is completely true. My time isn't totally unstructured. Many of my peers at the University of Glasgow are spending long hours at the library, diligently preparing for their upcoming final exams. I see Facebook statuses about it everyday, posted by the very small handful of friends I've made since I've been here. And I can't help but think, Why am I not at the library? Should I be hard at work? As we've discussed recently, I have two exams coming up as well, one on Monday and the other on Wednesday, also known as all too soon. Have I been studying? In my own way, yes, but not to the extent that my classmates are, if Facebook is to be believed. But how does one study for a literature exam? It's not something that I've been asked to do since high school. The most I've done so far is take stock of all that I read for each class this past semester, and I've taken some notes on character names to remember and key quotes from certain novels. So far this process really hasn't taken up much of my time. I've spent far more energy and effort writing new blog entries and editing videos. (Speaking of which, I just posted a new travel vlog, so please check it out.) Thus certain questions plague me: Am I doing too little to prepare for these tests? Or am I studying to the proper extent for someone who only needs to pass with a C- or above and his real GPA at home won't be affected at all? (It doesn't help that the grading system isn't the same here as it is in the states. I got a B3 on my last paper. I've been here four months and I still don't know what that means.)
When I think of the fine line between preparing and underpreparing, I'm reminded of the two presentations that I had to do this semester, both for Irish Literature Since the 1880's. Of my two classes (still tickled by that), this one was generally more enjoyable to read for but more stressful to attend. The professor in charge of my seminar group is a much older gentleman, who had a nasty cold at the beginning of the semester, which didn't help his mood, I believe. It also didn't help that one of his biggest pet peeves concerns students who don't show up to the first meeting of the seminars, because they miss so much organizational business stuff. He made this very clear by email in the days prior, so of course I was there to receive all the necessary information and the intimidating first impression that the man himself left on me. Unfortunately, the first meeting was not perfectly attended. The following week, more students showed up, and the professor asked them each why they missed the previous class. One girl said that she was stuck in Cuba because she'd been vacationing there and her flight back was canceled or some such thing. Now, as excuses for absenteeism go, I think that "stranded in country under communist rule" is a pretty good one, but not everyone shares my opinion. The professor's immediate response was exclamatory and NSFW, as we say on this 'net. You can see why I was a little frightened, especially at the idea of presenting in this class.
But it was unavoidable, of course. Each student had to take part in not one but two group presentations. For the first round, I signed up for the last possible presentation date, like a true chicken. (Or was it second to last? I think perhaps it was, but it's not as funny that way.) I tried to learn from the presenters who went before me, all of whom were subjected to a good deal of questioning from the professor, yet they always seemed to gain his favor generally. Based on what I gathered in class and from overheard conversations outside it, they all seemed to share the same experience: they felt unprepared, they were slightly baffled by the professor's questions, and in the end it all worked out. After seeing this pattern repeated two or three times, I was pretty confident that my group's presentation would yield the same result. I'd like to tell you what happened, but I can't. I was utterly perplexed as the presentation was happening, and afterwards my brain blocked out the details out of shame. (That's how repression works, right?) After a group presentation, each student in said group is expected to submit a short "aftermath report" to the professor, explaining what you learned from the experience. Although I managed to write a page or so, I think my response basically amounted to: "Uh, um, erm, what? Sorry." Thankfully, the professor actually writes back when you send in these reports, and his message made me feel a little better about the whole experience, because I sensed an understanding that I wasn't to blame.
My memories of leaving class that day remain in tact, as local peers sympathized and told me it seemed harsh. Outside the building, as one of my group members lit up a fag (cigarette, remember), he suggested we should intentionally sign up for the next round of presentations together, keeping the group in tact, in an effort to redeem ourselves. Sure, I thought, what a great idea. We had worked well enough together in the time leading up to the class. What happened today was just a fluke. Cut to our classroom the following week and my old fag-smoking acquaintance hasn't even shown up, so it's his loss when I sign up for my own presentation date with two new group members. Let me tell you, what a difference. This story has a happy ending, in the form of my second presentation, which goes swimmingly. Our presentation went so well that, the next day, that same professor is teaching a lecture, and he does something I've never seen another lecturer here do: he mentions his seminar group and tells us about an insight made during our presentation, a point which he says he has never seen in any of the books on the subject, an idea which was my idea. Sure, he didn't call me by name or point me out in the lecture hall or anything, but it was great to hear him say it in front of a big group of my peers. And of course it wouldn't have happened without my other group members, for whom I would go to several more classes just to have continued literary conversations with them. (But I don't have to, beceause my classes have been over for a long time.)
A certain level of preparation made a huge difference between those two presentations, but so did the people I was working with and the reading material we had to discuss. So how much preparation should I be doing for my exams now? I'll continue taking notes and studying quotes, but generally I'm going to take it easy this time. Besides, if I can't b.s. my way through a couple of essay questions on a literature exam by now, then the education system has totally failed me.
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