Yesterday was doomsday for every student in my class, yes; you’re right, the marks scored by each student in the half yearly examinations were announced. My class was buzzed with excitement as the first period bell rang; however, as the periods passed so did their happiness. But, this wasn’t the case for everybody. Some of my classmates were overjoyed by their marks.
My
partner, who understood science pretty well, scored ‘fairly low’ and was
forlorn. He sat all by himself and barely talked to anyone that day. He passed
around fake smiles when his classmates teased him, for he tried to hide his
depressed countenance.
I
was shook; he was one of my dearest friends and seeing him unhappy, bothered
me. I tried to make him smile, whispered all the inside jokes in his ears, I
even tickled him, but nothing was greater than the grief of the test scores.
I
grew even more bothered; ultimately I had no choice left but to ask him what
made him score so low. He replied with a sigh, “I don’t know what I was
thinking. The day before the paper, I memorized everything, but the moment I
was handed the question sheet, I froze.” I hugged him and told him panic
attacks were common and that marks don’t define intelligence, knowledge and
imagination do.
That
is essentially what I want to portray through this write-up. Even though he was
the first one to raise his hand in the class and answer the questions being
shot his way, he missed the hoop in the final game. But does the finale cover
up for the tenacity of the player throughout the game? I beg to differ.
In
my opinion, one test grade cannot measure how smart an individual is. It is
beyond the abilities of 35 measly questions to determine if a child is bright
or not. ‘Grading’ someone’s potential is
anything but sensible.
screamingmywords 