I remember that one exam I bombed.

Sauntering into the huge lecture room with confidence, I grabbed myself a blue book and 15-page questionnaire and found a seat. I had only spent a few hours studying the night before, but it was fine, because I was taking the class Pass/Fail, and had already secured enough good grades to keep me in the Pass range, no matter how I did on the final. Plus, it was Ancient Greek. Who does well on the final exam (which reviewed the entire year) in Ancient Greek? The coolness factor of learning a dead language wore off after the first couple of weeks, and by this exam, I was happy if I never say another Gamma or Delta in my life.

I proceeded to fail the final for three hours, and when finally satisfied with my poor memory and congregation skills, I passed the test in and walked out of the door. Who cares? I thought, practically skipping back to my dorm. No more Greek for the rest of my life!

The numbers came back, and I did indeed fail. Miserably. But as soon as I looked at my final grade, my nonchalance immediately disappeared. The Registrar didn’t have me down as P/F in Ancient Greek, they had me with a letter grade! A very horrible letter grade.

I was pissed, I was embarrassed, and most importantly, my workaholic status had been blemished. But what could I do? I had been an idiot. Twice. Once for never checking if the Registrar had my records in order, and twice for sitting in the back of the library and laughing with a friend instead of reviewing “Kronos and His Family”.

Little did I know, I could have sued. Read More »