How do you think you did on our first history test?
When my boon companions — Robert G. “Robbie” Brough Jr. and Robert “Magsy” Magnifico — and I waltzed into history class together, we were speculating about that very pertinent question as we slid into our respective seats before the last course of the day commenced at the sound of the bell.
“Settle down, ladies and gentlemen,” cautioned Mr. Eric Miles, closing the door and holding up a stack of graded papers. “Although I hate to be the bearer of bad news, some of you won’t be so pleased once you get back your exams.”
I was genuinely astonished by some of the results!
With the veteran educator’s last comment, the room grew silent as the assessments filtered through the subdued classroom, causing a few bewildered sighs, mine included.
Immediately after glancing at the letter “F” in red ink, I gasped in horror with eyes as big as saucers, thinking my parents were going to have my head on a silver platter.
However, I became slightly confused upon seeing the 89 percent right next to the worst possible letter grade.
This should be a “B-plus.”
While reviewing the correct answers to the test, I quickly discovered our teacher graded on a bell curve, with the highest grade being an “A” and the lowest grade being an “F.”
What happened to our regular grading scale?
Needless to say, the topic of conversation revolved around that mind-boggling history test as these three musketeers made their way downstairs to the makeshift bus terminal outside the Commons Area after the dismissal bell rang out.
“That bell curve is totally unfair,” I complained, shaking my head in despair as we walked down the second floor’s south corridor. “With the way it’s set up, I’m doomed to fail every single test; and then I’ll have to repeat the same class next year and pray I don’t end up with ‘Fart Sniffer’ as my instructor.”
“Tell me about it,” interjected Robbie with a rattled voice, as we descended the stairwell in the southwest corner of Lincoln Junior-Senior High School. “Due to the convoluted grading scale, you could’ve had a 91, which should be an ‘A,’ and still flunk the test; because that’s exactly what happened to me.”
“All our butts are going to be in a sling,” reasoned Magsy as he led the way down the ramp and across the congested gathering space. “Although I didn’t fail the test, my parents aren’t going to be pleased I received a ‘D’ on this exam — especially since ‘D’ doesn’t stand for delightful.”
We agreed to call one another after dinner to compare notes on the “collateral damage” caused by the now infamous history test as we parted ways under the sidewalk awning.
Since all three of us were grounded for the remainder of the day, no such telephone calls were ever made that evening.
Following our family dinner, the blond-haired minister trudged up the stairs to discuss the unacceptable grade on the history test as I sat at my writing desk with attached bookcase hutch, diligently studying for a probable pop quiz in history class the next day.
“I’m puzzled,” admitted Dad with raised eyebrows as he sat down on my twin bed to discuss the chapter exam. “After looking over your test, I noticed you only missed 11 questions, which matches the percentage at the top of the first page; but an 89 should’ve been a ‘B’-plus.’”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you when I came home from school,” I responded, looking up from my book with swollen eyes. “Our history teacher grades on something called a bell curve; and since I had one of the lowest grades in the class, I automatically flunked the test.”
Considering your school’s having Open House next Tuesday evening, your mother and I will be discussing this so-called bell curve with your teacher.
Early the next morning, while waiting at the bottom of the stairwell in the northeast corner of the educational institution, our trio of eighth graders exchanged similar stories about Mr. Miles’ bell curve versus the school-approved grading scale.
All things considered, we were pleased as punch upon acing that pop quiz in history class at the end of the school day because of our extra preparation time during solitary confinement the previous evening.
When Tuesday evening rolled around the following week, my big brother John and I ran across the second-floor bridge to meet up with several friends for a contentious game of basketball in the boy’s gymnasium.
Meanwhile the minister and his wife, along with our little sisters, walked the halls of the secondary school for one-on-one tête-à-têtes with numerous teachers.
The first stop on Mom and Dad’s itinerary was Mr. Miles’ second-floor history classroom.
“We were stunned at Mark’s failing grade on his first exam,” noted the dark-haired brunette, pulling the test paper from her pocketbook. “Considering history’s always been his favorite subject, we were baffled that an eighty-nine percent was a failing grade; because that’s always been a ‘B plus’ in my book.”
“I can totally understand your concern,” sympathized the tall, thin gentleman, briefly glancing at the test before handing it back. “Because I grade on a bell curve, Mark had one of the lowest grades in the class; and this is to be expected since many of his peers take pre-algebra.”
By that logic, our son will fail every single test.
“According to school policy, you should be using the 90, 80, 70, 60 grading scale,” the Bible scholar mentioned after clearing his throat. “This bell curve is very unfair to all the students, not just our son.”
“Although that’s the standard grading scale, we as teachers have the freedom to make our own tweaks,” stated the eighth-grade history teacher with pursed lips.
We’ll definitely be speaking to the school administration, because this kind of thing should not be permitted.
And that’s your prerogative.
Shortly after making their rounds to all the teachers on the list, my folks stopped by the principal’s office for a quick chat with Mr. Dominick Magnifico, the assistant principal over the junior high school, prior to collecting us to head back home.
Although I ended up getting an “F” for the first six weeks, my grades dramatically did an about-face toward the other end of the grading spectrum for the remainder of the school year.