Invigilating

There's something curiously soothing about watching 300 people write an exam that you don't have to write. I generally did pretty well on exams as an undergraduate, but I always hated that spike of anxiety, that moment when you first flip over the exam sheet and see the questions and think "OH CRAP, THAT THING I DIDN'T STUDY IS TOTALLY ON THERE," etc.

The Ice Arena was very quiet, and very warm. Being an invigilator got pretty boring after the first hour or so. We wandered back and forth between the desks, handing out extra booklets to those who needed them, answering questions, and keeping an eye out for cheating -- although, really, how do you cheat on a philosophy exam? What are you going to do, write Camus' response to the absurdity of life on the palm of your hand?

It was a three-hour exam, and we sat round guessing how many people would be left at the 3-hour mark. Some left after only half an hour; there were still dozens of people writing after 2 hours; with 15 minutes left, there were about 9 people, most of them shuffling papers and pulling on their coats. At 10:00, there was exactly one guy left, right at the back of the hall, still furiously scribbling. He looked stressed when the prof went over to him and told him to wrap it up; as he walked towards the front, he paused and flipped his book open and quickly scrawled an addendum to one of his answers.

And now the undergrads are all off for Christmas, and I have to mark a stack of 56 exams. Oh, joy. And their essays, too, which I've made little headway on yet. I haven't written much here about running tutorials, because it seems weird to blog about my students. I'll just say this, though: My students rock. I really hope they did well on this exam.