Literature, Class 14: Period 3, Thursday, December 18
"Welcome to our last class together," Miss Bennet said, smiling around the room at her students. "This semester has been an enlightening experience for me, and also a rewarding one, and so I must thank you for that. I confess, I shall miss our discussions, although I assure you, I will not be hurt if that sentiment is not as widely shared."
"This week is set aside for final exams. I would like to discuss that, for a moment. To have the important detail dispensed with, first: you will not be having a final exam, at least not in the traditional sense. There is a paper on which I've asked you a few questions; they are not aimed towards ascertaining what you know and what you do not, so much as inquiring as to your experience with this class. Answer them as honestly and as freely as you like. The only question which will affect your grade is the first, and all that is required of you, in order to pass this class, is that you tell me one thing that you have learned this semester.
"You may be wondering why I have chosen this method for your final -- and I would imagine that many of you are relieved, and I will hope quite earnestly that none of you exhausted yourselves studying. You have my apologies for not making it clearer, last time, that we would not be having a conventional final, except that I did not decide until a few days ago not to have one. I believe I was concerned that I was falling short of my obligations, in some regard, if I declined the option.
"Therefore, I should like to share why I did not, if you will indulge me." Her eyes were dancing in a quite playful manner. "It may be your last class with me, but I do hope that listening to me blather on about my thought processes still falls short of having to take an extensive final exam.
"Each of you took this class for a reason -- whether that reason was as simple as a paperwork mishap, or a desire to understand literature further, or perhaps a belief that this class would be less arduous than one focusing on science. Whatever your reason, you came to this class to participate in the process, and to learn about literature. Asking you to prove that in some manner seems ..." Elizabeth frowned. "Rude, I suppose. I trust that each of you came here, attentive, and willing to learn. If you have not learned, I suppose that is as much a black mark against myself as any of you.
"Further, each of you had a different background when starting this class. Some of you read frequently, in your spare time, and some of you may never have lifted a work of fiction before this class. If I should test you on intricate details, knowledge of esteemed authors and classic works, then those of you who were already familiar with such works would have a clear advantage. I would not be testing you on what you learned here, but what it is that you learned without my assistance.
"Lastly, literature is highly subjective. It seems, then, that I would have to ask you either flat questions of rote memorization -- the name of a poem we discussed, or the particular year that a playwright was born -- or to do some form of detailed analysis on a specific work. The former holds no interest to me, and only tests your memory. For the latter, I would need to expect as many varied responses as there were each of you. Perhaps the works I selected would not speak to some of you; should you then receive worse grades than your classmates? The whole process is far too involved, at that point.
"Instead, you will find two pieces of paper on your desk. One has a few questions that you must answer; that is your final exam. The other is optional, and contains its own instructions. When that is finished, I should like to talk with you, about literature and this class, but only if you are interested in staying. There is no penalty for leaving once you have finished with your exam. The choice is yours."
"One last concern: your research papers are on a table by the door. Do please find yours when you leave, if you would like to see it."
"This week is set aside for final exams. I would like to discuss that, for a moment. To have the important detail dispensed with, first: you will not be having a final exam, at least not in the traditional sense. There is a paper on which I've asked you a few questions; they are not aimed towards ascertaining what you know and what you do not, so much as inquiring as to your experience with this class. Answer them as honestly and as freely as you like. The only question which will affect your grade is the first, and all that is required of you, in order to pass this class, is that you tell me one thing that you have learned this semester.
"You may be wondering why I have chosen this method for your final -- and I would imagine that many of you are relieved, and I will hope quite earnestly that none of you exhausted yourselves studying. You have my apologies for not making it clearer, last time, that we would not be having a conventional final, except that I did not decide until a few days ago not to have one. I believe I was concerned that I was falling short of my obligations, in some regard, if I declined the option.
"Therefore, I should like to share why I did not, if you will indulge me." Her eyes were dancing in a quite playful manner. "It may be your last class with me, but I do hope that listening to me blather on about my thought processes still falls short of having to take an extensive final exam.
"Each of you took this class for a reason -- whether that reason was as simple as a paperwork mishap, or a desire to understand literature further, or perhaps a belief that this class would be less arduous than one focusing on science. Whatever your reason, you came to this class to participate in the process, and to learn about literature. Asking you to prove that in some manner seems ..." Elizabeth frowned. "Rude, I suppose. I trust that each of you came here, attentive, and willing to learn. If you have not learned, I suppose that is as much a black mark against myself as any of you.
"Further, each of you had a different background when starting this class. Some of you read frequently, in your spare time, and some of you may never have lifted a work of fiction before this class. If I should test you on intricate details, knowledge of esteemed authors and classic works, then those of you who were already familiar with such works would have a clear advantage. I would not be testing you on what you learned here, but what it is that you learned without my assistance.
"Lastly, literature is highly subjective. It seems, then, that I would have to ask you either flat questions of rote memorization -- the name of a poem we discussed, or the particular year that a playwright was born -- or to do some form of detailed analysis on a specific work. The former holds no interest to me, and only tests your memory. For the latter, I would need to expect as many varied responses as there were each of you. Perhaps the works I selected would not speak to some of you; should you then receive worse grades than your classmates? The whole process is far too involved, at that point.
"Instead, you will find two pieces of paper on your desk. One has a few questions that you must answer; that is your final exam. The other is optional, and contains its own instructions. When that is finished, I should like to talk with you, about literature and this class, but only if you are interested in staying. There is no penalty for leaving once you have finished with your exam. The choice is yours."
"One last concern: your research papers are on a table by the door. Do please find yours when you leave, if you would like to see it."