A is For Embarrassing

I promised you some Katie Embarrassment and I'm here to deliver.  It all started on Monday night when I had a test in my Sociology class.  I studied for it, but nothing like the way I work my butt off for Anatomy.  You see, I took a government sociology class at W&M, but for some reason the nursing program here doesn't count that as "real." Now I'm having to take SOC 101- which means that even though I'm learning a lot of new information, some of it is also a repeat/overlap of my last class.

So when I sat down next to my "class friend" she was feverishly looking at her 100+ note cards that she made to prepare for our test.  She asked me if I studied and I was all yeah, but not too much. I should've studied more, so who knows how I'm going to do. (Big Mistake)

We take the test and I thought it went fine; I knew most of the answers and I felt okay about it.  After everyone was finished, our teacher went to run them through the scantron machine while everyone chatted about how they thought they did.  Once again, I was all I think I did okay, not great, and there were some questions I didn't know.  I wasn't trying to lie, but no one likes that person; the one who talks about how easy the test was and how great they think they did. 

Our teacher comes back in shaking his head. Out of the 50 student in our class we had managed to make the wonderful average of a 67.  Because he's a really nice teacher, his rule is that the class average needs to be a 75; so in this case everyone would be getting an extra 8 points added to their final test grade. But we'd have to wait til the end of class to find out how we did.  (That's his trick to keep students from leaving after the test- if you're not there when he passes them back out then he counts you as absent). The lecture begins and it's kinda interesting- I'm having no problem keeping myself from daydreaming.

Now here's the thing you have to understand- people in this class don't ask questions.  Most of them just sit there, some sleep, and others play games on their indiscreetly hidden cell phones.  Also, all 50 students where in there because it was a test day- usually only about 25 show up.

And that's when I did it:  I asked a question.

The teacher looked at me and smiled.  Then he said, "That's a great question!  That's the kind of question that makes me teach instead of just talking to all of you who aren't listening."  My face began to turn pink as every pair of eyes turned toward me. (Which was pretty easy to do, as I was sitting directly in the middle of the room)  I tried to shrink in my chair as I could feel the negative vibes radiating in my direction.

It got worse.

Our teacher then said something like this: (I can't remember verbatim, but this is almost word-for-word)   

You're Katie, right? Katherine?

I shook my head, yes.   

Class, she's the only one who's yet to ask a question and guess what?  She's the only one who got an A on this test!  And she got an A before the extra points were added!

(Oh, it get's worse.)

Let me ask you a question- I have a theory about these kind of things.  Did your parents pay you for good grades? 

With my mouth agape, I should my head no.

Were your parents the "B is for Bad" type?" 

I managed to squeak out "Yes, sir."

He smiled again and said that this  just re-proved his theory about parenting styles and learning.  Something about how parents who pay their kids for good grades aren't instilling a love of learning into their child. Instead, they've turned it into a chore rather than making it an "intellectual lifelong journey." (he actually said that! "intellectual lifelong journey.") And that your attitude about learning extends into adulthood; I didn't just want a good grade- I wanted to learn something new "just for the sake of knowledge." 

At that point into this tangent I was hearing his words, but that's about it.  Then for the next few minutes he talked more about why we needed to ask more thought provoking questions. My "class friend" was glaring at me, everyone was staring at me with looks of disdain, and I was just sitting there like a deer caught in the headlights.  And we still had over an hour of class left!  Mercifully, after this 10 minute "discussion" about me, my grades, my parents, and my question, he made his way back to what he'd been talking about in the first place.  It was sweet, sweet relief when I finally realized that the stares and glares had stopped (mostly).

You're probably thinking it can't get any worse.  Of course this is me we're talking about, so you'd be wrong.  About 15 minutes before class was supposed to end, our teacher finished his lecture and started getting ready to hand back our tests.  So I'm packing up my things, trying not to draw any more attention to myself, when he calls out the first name; it's me.  As I'm making my way to the front of the room he tells me that I can go home now, but everyone else has to stay!  He wanted to talk to the rest of the class about the poor performance on the test and ways to help them improve their grades and I didn't need to stay for that.

But I'm not sitting down in the middle row this time - now I'm standing at the front of the class!  I can actually see everyone's mean looks at me- and it was everyone. I wanted to put my head down and stare at my toes, but I somehow managed to keep my head up.  After getting my test I tried to fake a smile and I said goodnight to everybody. I've never been so happy to leave a class before!

I was plum full of righteous indignation and was all "how dare they" during the 30 minute drive home. It was just me yelling out loud to no one in particular about how unfair it all was, how people are so mean, how I never should have asked him that question, how I never should've said that I didn't study very much, etc.  And then I started to get mad at myself for being mad at myself.  I didn't do anything wrong!  I made an A on a test, I asked a question about something I really wanted to know the answer to, and I received praise from my teacher.  Those aren't such bad things.

And that's how I'm choosing to think about it all right now.  It annoys me that the other people were so easily able to make me feel embarrassed about something which I should be, and am, proud.  It was an unpleasant reminder that I still care too much about what other people think.

We went over to my parent's house tonight for dinner and I was telling my dad this story. It's Wednesday night- two days after the "incident,"  but it wasn't until he pulled me in for a hug and told me how proud he was of me that I truly started to not feel that embarrassment.  If my dad is proud me, I should be proud of me.  Period. End of story.

And that's the end of this Katie Embarrassment episode.  Since next week is our spring break it'll be awhile before I have to face my classmates again.  I'm hoping that by then they'll have forgotten what happened.  I'm hoping by then I won't if they've forgotten or not.