From Monday, May 6, to Friday, May 17, Advanced Placement (AP) Testing took Archie Williams’ campus by storm as hundreds of students attempted to earn college credit for their courses. Students took up residence in the Archie Williams gymnasiums for the excruciating exams. The exams last three to four hours, with start times of an early bird 8 a.m. or snooze-worthy 12 p.m., and a requirement of attending school before or after tests.
AP Exams are a mental test for young scholars, as the exams cover nearly eight months of content somewhat randomly. For the majority of courses, the exams have various segments that include Multiple Choice Questions, as well as Free Response Questions, which challenge students’ memory, analytical thinking, and physical limits.
Experts recommend getting a good night’s sleep before the exams, but stressful dreams about trying to write a Document Based Question response tend to interrupt one’s beauty rest. Chugging two Yerba Mate’s pre-exam didn’t help either – how many sources do I need to reference to earn the Unicorn Point again?
Getting up in the morning for an 8 a.m. exam is a true physical struggle, as students must be on campus by 7:40 a.m., often just to find their parking spot stolen. Mike, wya? Give them a ticket!
A moment of silence for those with the noon exams. The parking conundrum is minimal in comparison to the biohazard threat that is afternoon B.O. in the stifling, negatively ventilated gym. Friendly reminder that Native deodorant doesn’t work.
It’s a lot harder to “cook” on an exam given that every move the person 75 feet away from you makes causes a chorus of squeaks emitted by the heinously uncomfortable plastic chairs. You can’t even shift away from the back-breaking backrest without reminding everybody of the importance of WD-40 (not sponsored).
The ability to “lock in” is drastically affected by the lack of access to food, drink, or even gum during the exam. Does the College Board think that I hid my notes on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire in my spearmint Trident?
Arguably the most difficult part of the exams is the return to classes afterward. Spring semester-itis and expunged brain power from cramming unnecessary power verbs into memory have proved it to be physically impossible to avoid the magnetic pull to bed, only to begin stress-dreaming about the Lagrange Error Bound.
A moment of appreciation for receiving recycled scratch paper to use while testing. It’s quite the mood lifter to discover poems, college lists, summer vacation plans, and drawings of various styles mid-argument essay – thanks for the anecdotal evidence!
The most challenging part of the whole experience? Playing try-not-to-laugh while inevitably eavesdropping on the piping-hot gossip between the volunteer moms and the exam proctor in a dead-silent gym. Is this freaking play about us?
The best part of the exams has got to be frantically discussing the exam afterward with peers and teachers in a creative manner to avoid violating the College Board rules. Special thanks to David Gutfeld for the celebratory donuts!
Rising juniors, prepare yourselves for the marathon of testing – including plugging your nose, stifling a laugh, and sitting stone-still in your preparation regime. For now, we wait until July, when receiving word of earning a “2” on our exams will squash our summer enjoyment. Until next year – can we put those tax dollars to better chairs? Vote YES on Measure A!
