Hey Everyone: I Got an 88 On My Midterm!

            I approached the counter at Golan Heights and asked the person stationed on the other side to (please) get me a shwarma - in a pita, chummus chips - and make it quick.  As the order was passed back into the dark, inner recesses of the kitchen, I marched over to the refrigerator and rummaged through the cans and bottles on display.  Vitamin Water?  Not so much.  Poland Spring? Not a chance.  Catching sight of a 20 oz Diet Dr. Pepper, I grabbed it and hastily rotated the bottle in my hands, scanning the plastic label for that essential ingredient…there! 

            Diet Dr. Pepper does have caffeine.  I thought so.  But you can never be too sure.  Especially on a night like this.

            As my pita emerged from the back, I instructed the man with my food to top it off with some techina and garlic-mayo, paid, and sat down to eat with my study buddy, Josh.    It was already two in the morning, so I knew I had to wolf it down quickly.  Tomorrow was my first mid-term – Fundamentals of Political Science – and I wouldn’t go to sleep until I knew the material cold.

            Well-fed and amply caffeinated, we returned to Josh’s room in Morg and jumped right back into the thick of it.  More facts.  More definitions.  More material.

All of this for one reason.  One goal. One thing, the only thing that kept me going this late into the night:

The A.

            It was the A that I wanted.  The 99.  Or the 94.  Or the 96.  Any of those would do.  But nothing less.  This was the first mid-term of my college career.  The first grade that might actually count for something!  The grade that would make me or, Heaven forbid, break me.  I needed this A.  I needed it bad.

            And so when I sauntered into the testing room the following day, with dark circles straddling my reddened eyes, I felt, somehow, relaxed.  I was ready to go.  As soon as Professor Luders dropped the test booklet onto my desk, I gripped my pencil tightly and rapidly vomited all of the information that I had recently accumulated onto the little exam booklet.  I missed nothing.  I handed in my mid-term with a few minutes to spare, and couldn’t help give a little smile in the process, knowing for certain that I had rocked it.

            A week later, when I logged into Angel to check my grade, that smirk was gone.

            There it was, right there on the screen.

            I rubbed my eyes a few times after a first glance.  Was I reading that number right?  The panic was beginning to set in. This must be the class average; where did he post the individual grades?  Was I logged into someone else’s account?  What was going on here?

            But I realized that my eyesight was perfectly fine.  And, believe it or not, I had logged into my own account.  And the number displayed on the screen was the score that I had received on my first mid-term, the one that would find itself plastered on my personal transcript:

            88.

            With this frightful realization, my heart sank.  Oh, the horror of it!  The shame!  How did this happen?  How had I allowed this to happen? 

            For days, I couldn’t put that horrid number - 88 - out of my mind.  I thought about it as I tried to fall asleep at night.  It irked me in the daytime too.  Maybe Professor Luders had made a mistake?  Maybe he didn’t count up the points right?  Unlikely.  Maybe he hated me?  I grew paranoid with the myriad possibilities as to why I had been cursed with the scholastic tragedy that is a B.  I was angry.  I was upset.   I wanted answers.  Sure it was a B+.  Some might even call that a “good grade”.  But in my eyes, it was still just a B. 

            Why me?

            I looked around YU at my fellow students, and many of them seemed to be equally mired in their own grade-induced hysteria.  One of my good friends, after receiving a C on his English paper, related to me with utmost sincerity that “his life was over,” and that he’d “never get into law school now.”  I felt for him.  I could tell he meant it.  But he sounded ridiculous.  And I realized how ridiculous I too had sounded and acted in the aftermath of that 88.

            And so, with the benefit of a little hindsight and some much-needed perspective, I arrived at the following conclusion:

            Everyone needs to chill out about his grades.

***

            I want to assure you that I understand that students need to do well in their classes.  Many, if not most of us, are extremely ambitious, and that is surely a good thing.  For the YU student with dreams of Harvard Law, or hopes of getting into any medical school, good grades are a must.  The average GPA for Einstein applicants that gain admission is 3.77.  It isn’t wrong to want to do your best. It’s fantastic to dream big – no one should strive for mediocrity.   And even if you aren’t planning on attending some fancy-pants graduate school, wanting to get good grades is no sin.  Everyone wants to phone home to mom with news of an A, even if they’re past the put-the-test-on-the-refrigerator stage of middle and high school.  But I don’t think someone should throw a fit with a B.  Or lose sleep with a bad mark.  Or let grades mess with their heads.

            So I’ve come up with the following rationales as to why people should take a “chill-pill”:

• There really isn’t so much you can do about a bad grade.  Sure, you can try to argue points with an instructor.  But how far does that ever get you, seriously?  I know in my (limited) experience, it usually doesn’t do much.  Most professors – perhaps contrary to popular assumption – are not diabolic monsters determined on finding ways to punish you.  They probably don’t care that much.  What will most likely happen is that they will show you exactly where you went wrong and you will probably feel like an idiot for barging into their office in a rage, demanding answers.  And you’re probably only hurting yourself in the long run – because if your professor hadn’t noticed you until now, they sure do now.  You’re that pesky, rude student that held your professor around after class and kept them from their family, or took away from something else they were going to do, so that you could try to piece together an excuse for why you thought the professor was asking something totally different with that ambiguous, poorly-worded question.  Of course, if you answered that 3 + 6 = 9 and there was a red X on your answer sheet, you should tell the professor.  But if it’s a little more subjective than that, best let it go.
• One lousy grade is probably not as bad as you think it is.  GPAs are extremely important, but they aren’t the only thing determining your future.  You can walk out of school with a 4.0, but if you bomb your LSAT’s, you probably aren’t going to law school.  And you can graduate with a 3.2, but if you ace your LSATs, you’ll be in good shape.  There are many factors that come into play here.  Extra-curricular activities, recommendations, interviews, etc. And after all, most of the time, we aren’t talking C’s and D’s.  Students are getting worked up about B's, and B+'s, and, believe it or not, A-'s.  While registering for this past semester, someone told me not to take a certain class (that I had a particular interest in) because the teacher was known to dole out A-'s.  And as utterly ridiculous as that sounds – I listened to him.
• If you know you will lose your mind if you get a B, you’ll do more to ensure an A than you might otherwise.  Sure, that probably means paying attention in class, or more late-night study groups before test time.  But often times, unfortunately, that also means cheating. 
• Ask yourself: is it worth the stress?  I know someone who, before coming to YU, was one of the happiest, most easygoing people I knew.  Always a smile.  Always cheery.  Always in a good mood.  Since college – he’s a different person.  He’s always stressed.  He’s often frantic about some class or some grade he got.   Is the physical toll that fretting about grades takes on our body and our minds worth it?  Is it worth it to become a miserable, paranoid person for three or four years of your life?
• This sort of GPA-centric mentality is detrimental to the learning experience. If students are totally focused on the grade, they don’t learn for the sake of learning, they don’t take the time to interpret and digest and appreciate what they learn.  They just want to know that they have the ability to get it on paper come test-time and get that A.  No more, no less. I know a lot of people will take the 3.8 and run.  And I understand that.  But for me, I think the guilt of  spending three $42,000 years at YU and not once treading into unsafe, potential “B” waters would be more unbearable than having to go to a lower level grad school because of my slightly lower GPA (assuming it would even make that much of a difference).  I know that sounds outright foolish to most people.  But it’s how I feel.
• I hate to get frum and preachy, but I think this discussion ties into a much larger discussion of hishtadlus and bitachon.  Although the exact nature of the relationship of these two ideas is a matter of debate, the general idea is agreed upon: we are required to do our hishtadlus, to do the best we can.  We must study well.  We must put ourselves in positions to get good grades.  We must do what we can to make sure we will be successful in life, and for most of us, that means good grades so that we can go further in our professional careers.  But our hishtadlus only goes so far.  By definition, there is a limit.  And when we get to that point, it becomes a matter of bitachon.  We must trust that it is then in Hashem’s hands.  He will, ultimately, determine our fates.  Whatever happens is for the best. 

To let a bad grade get under your skin may constitute a lack in bitachon, if even only minimally so.  You did the best you could.  You didn’t cheat.  You didn’t cut corners.  And you got a B.  Or a C.  Or a D.  Our obligation to have bitachon means that we must accept that this was the Will of God.

I know this sounds very mussar-y.  So it is.  But I think that the realization and implementation of this idea in our daily lives is  something that will ultimately empower us to get through it all – not just to get over a bad grade, but to get through any ordeal that presents itself in our lives.  We do the best we can do.  We try to put ourselves in the best situation.  And at some point - it’s out of our hands. 

***

Last week I got back an English paper.  I worked really hard on it.  I discussed the thesis multiple times with my professor.  I wrote many revisions.  I made sure to get a first draft in to my teacher so she could make comments.  I saw those comments, worked with them, and made my paper even better.

I thought it was solid.

When the professor handed it back, I tried something different from the usual routine.  I calmly folded it away in my backpack.  Later on in my room, I took it out again.  I didn’t jump to the back to check the grade.  I went through some of the comments first.  I looked to see where I went wrong, and where I could have been better.  And then, I looked at my grade.

An 88.

I couldn’t help but smile.

And that night, I slept like a baby.