"Twenty Questions"

     We have now had our first quiz in Psych of Aging. (That kind of sounds like Rock of Ages, don’t you think?)  I suffered from my usual first quiz jitters, and self confidence was as elusive as a new moon hovering behind a clouded horizon. 

     Prior to the test, Professor was discussing the detriments of cheating, explaining some tactics she had witnessed in a couple of her students.  For instance, one student had written answers on the palm of his hand.  During the test, he attracted the Professor’s attention as he repeatedly flipped his hand over, absent- mindedly sending her signals as obvious as those of a Morse Lamp on midnight seas.  One of the female students wrote answers on her thigh, and kept hiking her skirt up to peak during the course of the test. (The boys seated around her flunked!) These tactics sounded vaguely familiar to me.  I had tried both once or twice-in grammar school. At that time I was too dumb to realize that the transcription probably took longer than actually studying would have.  Plus-had I studied, I would have learned something!  I found it amusing, and also appalling, that college students would resort to these tactics.  My theory now is, if you are going to cheat, why even bother attending?            

    The test consisted of twenty questions.  Did I bother to count?  Noooo….  Did I look at both sides of the two papers that were stapled together?  Noooo… I completed the test quickly, after which I made a quick trip to the powder room, as I had about fifteen minutes to myself before the subsequent start of class.  Upon my return, I couldn’t help but notice Professor perusing the tests, except she was grading more pages than I had completed.  I missed an entire page!  Horror stricken, I timidly explained my dilemma to Professor, and requested that she return my paper so I could complete it.  Thankfully, she complied, and I was able to complete the test.

     Technically, my Professor was not in any way compelled to return that paper to me, especially since I had physically removed myself from the classroom.  I can only imagine that my advancing age was to my benefit.  Let’s face it.  I am flirting with sixty.  There is absolutely no reason for me to cheat on an exam.  I am attending school so that I can learn something, for intellectual stimulation, and for the sense of accomplishment I have when I earn good grades.  Perhaps Professor sensed these motivations in me, and was therefore, trusting. 

     After class, I made a point of apologizing for the mix up, as I felt I owed her that, plus an additional thank you.  Lesson learned. My gratitude, earned.