HSA Insanity

So it’s clear that, as a member of the generation of online shopping, cell phones and Facebook, my first blog entry should consist of me complaining about how hard my life as a student is.

(Because obviously, we have it pretty tough. Those texts don’t send themselves, you know. You should see my thumb calluses.)

As all parents and students know, these past few weeks of school have been pretty brutal, especially for high school kids. We were tested on everything from calculus to art history to music theory during Advanced Placement tests, and some bright person decided to put High School Assessments the week after.

(Let us take a moment here to applaud the school system.)

As a geek, testing isn’t really something I worry about very much. I have an entire routine worked out to ensure maximum test scores, including a study schedule and a list of subjects to review.

(Well, not really. Usually I just sleep.)

But the HSA’s are something different. From middle school on, the HSA’s become a legend of sorts- a fallback for exasperated Algebra teachers. A cry of “Do you all want to fail the HSA’s?” leaves students silent and obedient- at least for a few minutes. Being threatened with the possibility of not graduating is enough to tame even the wildest of classes. But that’s where the usefulness of these tests ends.

(And, here comes the complaining. Parents, arm yourselves with your favorite “when I was your age” stories and “I gave you life” rebuttals- this is the one area where people my age really shine.)

The test begins like any other “SUPER IMPORTANT HIGH PROFILE FAIL-THIS-AND-YOU-DON’T-GRADUATE” test- a sign-in sheet, bored proctors and a stifling hot computer lab. Next, we all proceed to our designated computers, groaning and shuffling (because it’s SEVEN IN THE MORNING and all the stupid upperclassmen get to sleep in) and trying to comprehend the instruction sheets well enough to find our tests, open them, and maybe start them, if we get lucky.

Next, we sit through about fifteen minutes listening to our proctors (who, honestly, I feel sorry for, as I can’t really think of anything worse than what they do) read through the “YOU MUST READ THIS WORD FOR WORD OR ALL SCORES ARE INVALIDATED” instructions packet.

(Obviously, we need to be told to hit the NEXT button to go to the NEXT page. It’s just too hard for our little brains to figure out on our own.)

The test itself isn’t that bad, besides being a little mind numbing. Once we’ve all stumbled through to the end, though, is where the real pain starts. 

The waiting.

I think my cumulative time of actually answering questions was around forty minutes. We were given about three hours.

You see the problem.

I know the arguments. I know that some students need more time. I know that the HSA is developed for every high schooler to be able to pass.

But during the last five APPALLINGLY SLOW minutes, while we all tapped our feet restlessly and doodled on papers and stared at the clocked and were literally almost bored to tears…

(There was a poster about the history of the Internet hanging above my computer. By the time the test was over, I had memorized it and the one about global warming.)

Still, I’ll never have to do this again. This time next year, I’ll be a junior and I can sleep in until 9:00 and watch all the freshman and sophomores suffer. It will all get better, really.

(But who needs optimism?)