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Developing critical thinking ability
Essay on how to manage exam stress
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The Ordinary World 7:55 AM finds me sprinting out the door of my apartment complex, frantically rushing to the car. I am late - yet again. It was the season of PSAT testing at our school, a free practice test for sophomores and juniors to prepare for the real hell-the SAT. I slam the car door while gripping my backpack tightly before pouncing across the street. A sea of cars honks at me as I sprint across the street not even glancing both ways like my mama had informed me about before. 7:59 AM “it’s okay,” I tell myself, the school bell rings three minutes past 8. I speed walk across the school track; a piercing sound hits my ears indicating that the bell had rung. I made my way to room 155- language hall, the door was closed, great. Knocking …show more content…
Merely skimming a couple pages the night before of the practice booklet the school handed out a week ago. As the instructors of the test began to pass out our testing booklet, I could only hope that I would at least get a decent score that I could work on later on when I start preparing for the real test. My legs are bouncing, shaking and my fingers fidget with my number two pencil, I could feel anxiety crawling up my spine - I shiver. ‘Begin’ I hear, students are shuffling their papers, attempting to read the passage as quick as possible. Taking a standardized test like the SAT is a journey, a long harsh boring journey. First, when the test starts, I read faster than my normal reading pace but then realized I could not possibly comprehend the words I just skimmed, so I have to go back and reread the passage. After the first couple of questions are answered, that is when I start to drag only because the passage is about Yellowstone Wolves boosting their berry diets for grizzlies. By the time I am halfway through the Reading Test I ran out of brain juice, if there is one thing about me is that I have no testing endurance, my brain gets fried halfway and every question I answer, the more hopeless I feel. I glance at a girl sitting next to me, taking a quick
There have been reports, even from elementary schools, that young children vomit in their standardized test booklets from stress. If children this young are already becoming sick with school-related stress, we can only begin to imagine their state of being once the added pressure of middle school, high school and college enters their lives. It is critical for school boards to realize that the crippling anxiety that runs rampant through the crowded halls of American schools is a serious cause for concern. Part of this concern stems from the disadvantage at which high stakes testing often puts students with testing anxiety. An example of this can be found when Audrey, whose life Robbins chronicles in The Overachievers, feels that tests do not reflect her knowledge of a topic. Indeed, it is true that if a student is mentally distressed on an extreme level, he/she is not in a good position to show his/her knowledge. In discussing this phenomenon it is important to understand that while most students feel anxious about high stakes tests, it is the ones with clinical anxiety who suffer the most, who vomit in their textbooks and who are
Zero awoke to find himself standing, it was not something he was familiar with and he searched his memory for any recollection of it happening before. Quickly he discovered that large parts of his memory were missing, gone were the seemingly endless data bases of information. Quickly he sent out feelers trying for a connection of some sort but he drew a blank. It seemed that where ever he was now, had limited connection capacity. Instead he used his visual feed to survey his surrounding, it appeared he was in some kind of desert of discarded parts.
To start the day you wake up at five in the morning and get on the bus at five thirty. You set out for West Branch. The bus ride in the morning is usually quiet. You don’t hear many people talking because everyone is going back to sleep. When you arrive at West Branch you get off the bus and the hosts of the school will stamp your wrist. Once everyone is off of the bus we head to our room, set our stuff down, and then we go help unload trailers. After the heavy work, the girls go back to the room and start hair
“Urgh!” I groaned as I nonchalantly tossed my rent bill after seeing the amount due. The bill slide underneath my bed, “ Oh my goodness” I said annoyed. This was the third month in a row I was going to have to ask for an extension on my rent payment, I could hardly buy myself food, and ontop of that college was getting pretty expensive.
You walk into school and you’re calm and relaxed feeling okay and ready to do the work in school. Once you walk into your english class you find out the class has to take a test, multiple choice and a few short answers. Once you hear that, your heart starts racing, you get shaky and you’re nervous. You suddenly forget everything you’ve known on the topic that the standardized test is on. You sit in your seat, waiting for the test to be handed to you, thinking if it’ll be too difficult or a piece of cake. Your teacher hands out the tests to the class and announces: “Okay everyone! This test is counted as a big grade and will let me know if you’ve been paying attention all these months. Do your best! You may begin.” The moment that is said you hope to do well so that you won’t fail and are more nervous than you were when you first started, and that’s how you begin and end your test.
Test anxiety has been defined as “the set of cognitive, affective, and behavioral reactions that accompany concern over possible negative consequences contingent upon performance in a test or evaluative situation” (Zeidner, 1998, p. 25-26). Overwhelming worrisome thoughts is often referred to as the hallmark symptom of test anxiety. Individuals are typically consumed with negative thoughts of potential failure in regards to testing situations. Wine’s (1971) “cognitive- attention” model attributes these negative cognitions responsible for less than optimal performance on tests because the individual is preoccupied with off-task information rather than being able to focus their attention on recalling relevant test material. (CITE) Test-anxiety also causes physiological changes to occur as a result of added stress in evaluative settings. The body responds to test stressors in a state of panic which causes heightened level of arousal and increased...
ELODIN STRODE INTO THE lecture hall almost an hour late. His clothes were covered in grass stains, and there were dried leaves tangled in his hair. He was grinning. Today there were only six of us waiting for him.
I awoke this particular morning to a sky, heavy with gray clouds, choking the welcoming warmth and light of the morning sun. The humidity was so palpable, it felt as though it reached into my naturally curly hair and twisted it into one impossible tangle with its own, moist fingers. Knowing I had to gain an education, I got dressed. I threw on my companionable sweater, hopped into my car, and drove, reluctantly, to the school. After heaving my backpack onto my shoulder, I slugged across the school yard toward the ominous, glass double-doors. The doors that perplexed my racing mind on a normal day with its unforgiving reflection seemed especially stern today, and my anxiousness and dread seemed to grow as the reflection grew with each
As college students at the University of Michigan, we all have taken SAT high school. SAT, an abbreviation of Scholastic Assessment Test, is a standardized test widely requested and considered for college admissions in the United States, most prestigious universities are included. My SAT journey started in my junior year with a mandatory PSAT exam. I clearly remembered how badly I was crying on the phone with my parents when I only scored a 120 out of 240. The score on the sheet of my exam, according to my counselor, indicated that I was doing poorly on critical thinking and grammatical questions. Then, a memorable experience of my high school Journey started. Attending SAT prep classes, doing practice exams, memorizing Barron’s 3500-word list,
What happy days they were the only really delicious days she had ever enjoyed, and how quickly they were over And then her discovery of the penalty she paid What anguish of that journey to the South, that long journey, her sufferings, her constant terror, that secluded life in the small, solitary house on the shores of the Mediterranean, at the bottom of a garden, which she did not venture to leave. A little farther on the road passed beneath a clump of trees, which hid a few houses, and they could distinguish the vibrating and regular blows of a blacksmith's hammer on the anvil; and presently they saw a wagon standing on the right side of the road in front of a low cottage, and two men shoeing a horse under a shed. "Take the road to the left, close to the inn, and then go straight on it is the third house past Poret's.
Vince finally lost his patience and his anger radiated heat like a wild fire in the bond. Gripping her jaw tightly his fingers dug into her skin hard, the nails on his hands elongating into claws that threatened to break the skin. A threatening growl sounded from his chest and his lip drew back in a snarl revealing a mouthful of inhumanly sharp teeth. "ENOUGH!" He snarled out in a low growl. His dark eyes burning coals in their sockets as he moved to mount her, sitting on her hips holding her down under his bulk.
Statement of intent: The purpose of this piece of creative writing is to demonstrate the course of events taking place during the day in the wild and the intended audience are those who like fiction, my peers and my teacher. “I was falling, falling into a deep dark ditch. I could hear my mother's voice calling out to me, but all I could see was a hazy image of her. Appearing and disappearing in front of me, like a distant memory trying to say something. Only the language seemed foreign and I kept on falling not knowing the end…”
Come on, get up.” I reluctantly pull myself out of bed and try to get ready for the day. In second period I need to ask the teacher to sign a form after class. As the bell to end class rings my heart starts pounding and as I get up to go to the teacher’s desk I almost run into another student walking the other way, I should’ve waited to get out of my seat until they passed.
I pull into her driveway, hands gripped firmly on the rubber steering wheel of the van. Dirt crunches beneath the wheels, a satisfying sound. Autumn has long since settled upon us and the trees sprung from the freshly cut grass resemble paint splattered against a dark canvas. Now outside of the vehicle, I inhale, closing my eyes, and smile. Fresh air washes over me.
Brringg! The bell signals the end of class and I anxiously wait for my mother to arrive. I find myself impatiently glancing at the clock every two minutes; finally the car pulls up. I jump into the back seat and throw off my heavy backpack. As my mom pulls away, the same old raspy voice can be heard over the radio. I try to block out the blaring AM station, but the word “opening day” grabs my attention. The weatherman forecasts a sunny day with a cool breeze. A smile erupts on my face, which my mom can’t help but notice through the reflection of the rearview mirror.