Several nights ago, I took my first Introduction to Microeconomics mid-term. If you're new here, I'll just let you know that I'm a grown woman who's chosen to take an Ivy League level ECON course for “fun,” and because I'm genuinely interested in the topics of money, finance, and the economy in general. Also, it's free because of where I work, so why not?! I have no idea how I did (don't worry, I'll let you know when I know), but I can tell you it was HAAARRRDDDDD! And I was prepared. I'm talking five hours every day of practice questions for a full week. I'm talking office hours with TA's to ask them the questions I didn't understand the answers to. There were tears at some points, but I certainly know a TON more about Microeconomics than I ever did before. 

 

At 6pm on Tuesday evening, I walked into an auditorium full of desks and waited anxiously as 130 freshman filed in. We were all petrified. I could feel it and see it. Students were still doing practice questions just minutes before the exam began. Legs tapped furiously, people sat in perfect frozen silence, and others shouted formulas back and forth to each other, making friendly, pre-exam conversation. We all have our own ways of managing our terror anxiety.

 

The large screen at the front of the room projected a Google timer set for 1:00:00. I oscillated between keeping uber, stone-cold cool, resting bitch face, legs splayed out, staring straight ahead; and turning to my neighbor, a baby thing looking so fragile, asking her with a warm smile if she felt ready. She cracked a smile back at me and said, “I don't know, I think so," and I laughingly nodded in agreement. 

 

The time went so insanely fast. I barely finished, and sort of didn't finish. But I took a half-stab at the last question, so maybe I can get partial credit, if it's even correct, which it may not be. At the 0:1:27 mark, I surrendered and stood up, handing my paper to the TA. There were at least fifty kids still scribbling furiously. Please God let them grade this on a curve. 

Taking this course has given me SOOOOO much fodder for thought and I think I will be writing, talking, and sharing about this experience for many months, maybe even years to come. For one thing, it got me thinking about learning and the way we learn things. 

 

I remember one of the hardest, most anxiety-producing classes in high school was my eleventh-grade English class. Mr. Daniels was notoriously difficult, and we learned to expect our papers returned bloody with furious ink scratchings. He would make notes in the margins, ex out our lame phrases, and carve agitated exclamation points into our pages as he ripped apart every other sentence of our themes. My heart would sink every time he returned my paper, because every time I turned it in, I would think, “This is a good one!” But wow, did that class teach me how to write, and think, and create with words. This class also introduced me to my favorite author of all time, Ernest Hemingway, and I still remember falling in love with his writing in that class. In the end, I think he gave us all A's, but if he would have let us know his well-meaning intentions from the start, would we have tried so hard or learned anything? Hell no!

 

In college, my favorite class was 2-D Foundations, taught by Mr. Rossdale. This was probably the best class I've ever taken in my entire life. Everyone hated him, but I loved him. I had never been challenged creatively in high school, so I was so hungry to learn in my chosen field of visual art. One of his exercises required us all to cut a piece of white board into small, tile-sized pieces, and try to paint each tile the truest shade of a color. He had his version of the truest red, red-orange, orange, yellow, yellow-orange, green, blue-green, blue, blue-violet, and violet up at the front. And each time we tried to mix our perfect version of whatever color (colors that come straight from the paint tube aren't necessarily the truest version of a color and there can be 50 different varieties of a color based on the brand and shade), we would bring our tile up to the front and he would judge our version against his. If our version was truer than his version, he would keep our tile and it would become the new standard. I freaking loved this exercise and wanted to dominate! I wanted all my tiles to be the new standard in color tiles and when he'd keep one of my tiles, I'd march back to my table, glowing as my classmates glowered. Wow, did this appeal to my 1) super competitive nature, 2) Virgo detail-oriented, task-oriented, tell-me-what-to-do-and-I'll-do-it way of working, and 3) general obsession with art, color, and beauty.

 

With all this in mind, what I'm saying is that whether or not I flunk or pass this Microeconomics course, the way the professor has taught the material is incredibly effective. I have to learn this shit because I'm petrified of failing. And this material is so dense and technical, I can't just wing it. I can't fake it, and even though I really understand the information, I can still get the answers to these questions way wrong. Fear can be a great motivator in a lot of sick ways. However, another way to say it might be, “I want to do well in this class, and I know I really need to know this shit in order to have a shot at doing well. So, I'm gonna try my best.” And that's what I did. And Imma keep doing it until early May when this fucking class is over. 

 

I can't wait to see my grade and am also totally dreading the results. Either way, I am so happy to share them with you, regardless of my humiliation.

 

Until next time…

 

Best wishes for the coming week,