Testing Darwinism

I recently gave an English requirement test. I gave it because it was required, not just for kicks. Although if high stress activities like gun fights and making million dollar boardroom deals are your thing, you should probably try it . What’s my problem eh ? My problem is that all of these tests are filled with tedious procedural elements that overshadow everything it tries to achieve. The test isn’t about how much you know anymore, it’s about how much pressure you can handle in two hours. The weak don’t survive.

When I was leaving for the test and feverishly making sure all my documents were in place, without which I would officially be deemed a terrorist, my mom told me to just take whatever I have and if they ask for something I’m not carrying in my bulging folder, tell them where to stick it and come home. Well okay, she didn’t say it exactly like that, but that was the gist of it.

You couldn’t go unaccompanied to the “whaa-sh-room” during the test. They want us to think its cause they’re worried we’re going to meet up with the exam Mafia in there but really I think they want to make sure we wash our hands before we touch the sacred test sheets. There were places you weren’t supposed to write in pen, there were places you ONLY had to fill in with pen. You couldn’t carry in a mobile phone. Fill in your answers on the right side of the sheet, underline your last name, fill in your passport number correctly, write your candidate number on the back of the photograph. Folks were getting jittery, I could tell. Some of them had pens wobbling in their hands inches from the paper, seriously pondering whether they were supposed to tick “M” or “F”. One guy’s knee was bouncing around off its socket the whole two hours we were there.

For the listening bit of the test we had to wear infrared headphones. (For one wild moment I was imagining everyone’s had antlers attached to them. I guess the stress was getting to me too.) The girl besides me started to wave hysterically in the direction of the moderators. She could hear a bit of buzzing in the back of hers. My guess is either she hasn't been able to sleep ever since she saw White Noise or she was just plain jumpy like a rabbit. The same girl went on to read the essay aloud. (High hopes for this one. High hopes.) I’d shoot practiced glares at her every ten seconds. Then I tried looking pointedly at her while a moderator passed. Still nothing. I guess reading aloud isn’t against any of the multiple rules. I let it pass then cause she was obviously having a harder time than I was which made me wonder if anyone noticed this cool, calm BAMF in the third seat from the front wearing the Muhammad Ali T-shirt.

One thing that has to be mentioned however was that the moderators were the kindest ladies .They may have adopted the voice you use to talk to the very sick when you asked them a question, but still, very kind. It’s probably to avoid cardiac failure amongst the students and all those messy insurance queries.

When my mom asked me how it went and I replied fine I didn’t mean I knew all the right answers, I meant I filled in all those little boxes with pencil right and checked my details about twenty times over. She said she knew it would be fine and asked me if I’d like takeout for dinner. This is where I get it from.