Easily the most destructive force against a successful college experience is sleep.
Or, rather, the lack of sleep.
95.7% of all fail college endeavors - such as late homework assignments, skipped classes, failed papers, mental fogginess, prevailing exhaustion, packed parking garages, poor notes, etc - are a direct result of sleep deprivation.
Sleep deprivation is where you lack sleep to such an extent that you run the risk of losing coherency. This can occur through a number of different situations; late nights doing homework, late nights not doing homework, early morning classes, afternoon classes, evening classes, night classes, and more. Truth be told, sleep is hard for college students to achieve.
Case in point: I have been working on this post for two weeks. Two, long, kinda blurry, sleep deprived, exhaustive weeks.
Sleeping, as a student will discover in psychology or physiology courses, is kind of necessary for, you know, life. Going through the proper stages and achieving satisfactory REM sleep is essential for optimal brain function, immune strength, and mental stability. Consequently, as they might tell you in psychology, depriving someone of REM sleep is the easiest and most effective form of brainwashing. True story.
The main cause for lack of sleep is, unsurprisingly, school. Classes that begin early, last long, start late, and pile on mountains of homework are inhibitors that prevent students from getting enough sleep. Homework can be time consuming and the first source of time that students delve into to finish late work is the time spent sleeping. Regrettably, this normally ends up with low-quality work and a tired, incoherent student.
Another cause for sleep deprivation is socialization. College is a time were students are encouraged by their peers to "forget about school" and "come hang out." While relatively few college students actually have a work ethic, even fewer have the ability to stand up to their friends and stay at home studying instead of going out. Understandably, a majority of students spend their free time out with other people, often until late (or early) hours of the night. This may cause sleep deprivation in and of itself, or it may cause homework to be late causing the student to stay up finishing which may cause them to lose sleep. Either way, *yawn*.
When a student is sleep deprived, they will attempt to make up their lost time in various ways and locations. There is the zonks-out-in-the-library sleeper. This student will deposit his or her backpack onto the nearest surface, grab a table if one is available, slouch down, and sleep. While they should be commended for their bravery, one can only hope that no one robs them in their sleep. There is the nods-off-during-class sleeper. This guy (its typically a guy) is funny. Normally, this student will establish a routine of coming in late, complaining about being tired, or just being generally out of it. Part way during class, this student will slouch down in their seat a bit, begin to sluggishly frown towards the front, and slowly their head will begin to bob towards their chest. If the teacher doesn't make any sudden noises or attempt to wake them up, they may actually begin to snore. While you chortle, you may take note to not let this happen to you.
Sleep is important. Not only does it help you re-energize yourself, it can keep you awake during class, help you get homework done on time, and it can help you make quality decisions. And while that bench outside your classroom might look comfortable, take the time and effort to get effective sleep, preferably in your own bed.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
the taming of the Loo
Disclaimer: this particular post was constructed after a literally physical fight with a paper towel dispenser for over twenty minutes. Despite the overtone of bitterness, the content remains true and accurate.
At some point in the last decade, the powers that be have determined that, for fear of germs, a person should be able to completely navigate the restroom in its entirety without touching a single surface. Despite having existed for literally centuries by touching the bathroom facilities (and still remaining alive), a deep, primal fear has been sparked in college faculty that any contact whatsoever with the toilet/flush lever/sink/faucet/soap dispenser/paper towel dispenser/hand dryer will result in an immediate and contagious death.
Presumably, it is for this reason that the modern college bathroom is structured in such a way. The toilet flushes itself at will when an unsuspecting person sits or stands within its vicinity, even if they are not finished. Despite the colleges' water-conserving crusade, the demon toilet gleefully wastes up to three times the water as a traditional, germ-infested one. Perhaps the lack of human contact has caused attachment issues. Personally, I believe it is simply vindictive.
After maneuvering through the trial of the petulant toilet, one realizes that the dispenser for the translucent toilet paper has, conveniently, run out. One is forced to choose between asking someone in an adjacent stall or fumbling to grab a few sheets the size of tissues from the next stall on their own. Fortunately, although embarrassing, this does not happen on a regular basis.
When one is finished running the gauntlet in the stall, the next proper step leads them to the sink. The modern college bathroom sink is a brilliantly designed instrument where, using high-tech technology, one can apply soap, wash and rinse their hands, and dry them completely, all without making any physical contact with the appliances. The modern college bathroom sink is quite a genius design. However, there is one flaw; nothing worksproperly. The soap dispenser grinds like an automatic pencil sharpener so you know it's working, however, it produces no soap. Short of smashing the thing, one must be satisfied with the four suds that it finally produces, evidently from foaming at the mouth; after all, it has been working hard. The sink, compensating for the wasteful spiteful toilet, spits out lukewarm water in 1.5 second increments. In between these trickles, the poor victim, who is rapidly regretting using the restroom, frantically moves their hands in circles beneath the faucet in a desperate attempt to find the sensor that dispels water, only to have their hopes crushed 1.5 seconds later when the water stops again. Experts say that the proper hand-washing technique is to hold your hands under running water for at least 20 seconds. Be comforted, your college is germ-conscientious.
Adjacent to the sink is two forms of hand drying apparatuses; there is the automatic air blow dryer or the lower-tech paper towel dispenser. Both of these have been outfitted with their new and improved versions, where hands placed below the dryer produces a stream of hot air or the simple act of waving in front of the dispenser will provide you with a sufficient-but-not-wasteful amount of paper towels. Given the fact that these are the last devices the unfortunate victim will encounter before leaving, they have become malicious tormentors. Taking its cue from the sink, the air blow dryer will spurt out two seconds of scalding hot air when the hands are, ironically, placed outside if the airflow; once the hands return to the proper position, the machine will abruptly come to a stop. The dryer will alternately sputter start and sputter stop like a leafblower running out of gas until the exasperated sufferer will turn their dripping hands to the paper dispenser. Sadly, this fatal mistake plays directly into a trap. The paper towel dispenser, proud to be the center of attention, will gleefully run its motor to laboriously produce two inches of towel. After it's proud accomplishment, it will be unresponsive for roughly 15 seconds before jerking back to life with an irritated groan. Be satisfied with however few inches you are allotted; they often enjoy jamming themselves.
Despite being a rough generalization, this description holds true for 90% of college restrooms. Some actually work (I am told, I have never encountered one). Others are a hybrid of modern technology and traditional germ collecting equipment. Then there are those that no one dares to use, mainly because the last janitor sent to clean them was never heard from again. But restrooms are a necessity to the school day, so either hold it or get really brave really fast.
At some point in the last decade, the powers that be have determined that, for fear of germs, a person should be able to completely navigate the restroom in its entirety without touching a single surface. Despite having existed for literally centuries by touching the bathroom facilities (and still remaining alive), a deep, primal fear has been sparked in college faculty that any contact whatsoever with the toilet/flush lever/sink/faucet/soap dispenser/paper towel dispenser/hand dryer will result in an immediate and contagious death.
Presumably, it is for this reason that the modern college bathroom is structured in such a way. The toilet flushes itself at will when an unsuspecting person sits or stands within its vicinity, even if they are not finished. Despite the colleges' water-conserving crusade, the demon toilet gleefully wastes up to three times the water as a traditional, germ-infested one. Perhaps the lack of human contact has caused attachment issues. Personally, I believe it is simply vindictive.
After maneuvering through the trial of the petulant toilet, one realizes that the dispenser for the translucent toilet paper has, conveniently, run out. One is forced to choose between asking someone in an adjacent stall or fumbling to grab a few sheets the size of tissues from the next stall on their own. Fortunately, although embarrassing, this does not happen on a regular basis.
When one is finished running the gauntlet in the stall, the next proper step leads them to the sink. The modern college bathroom sink is a brilliantly designed instrument where, using high-tech technology, one can apply soap, wash and rinse their hands, and dry them completely, all without making any physical contact with the appliances. The modern college bathroom sink is quite a genius design. However, there is one flaw; nothing works
Adjacent to the sink is two forms of hand drying apparatuses; there is the automatic air blow dryer or the lower-tech paper towel dispenser. Both of these have been outfitted with their new and improved versions, where hands placed below the dryer produces a stream of hot air or the simple act of waving in front of the dispenser will provide you with a sufficient-but-not-wasteful amount of paper towels. Given the fact that these are the last devices the unfortunate victim will encounter before leaving, they have become malicious tormentors. Taking its cue from the sink, the air blow dryer will spurt out two seconds of scalding hot air when the hands are, ironically, placed outside if the airflow; once the hands return to the proper position, the machine will abruptly come to a stop. The dryer will alternately sputter start and sputter stop like a leafblower running out of gas until the exasperated sufferer will turn their dripping hands to the paper dispenser. Sadly, this fatal mistake plays directly into a trap. The paper towel dispenser, proud to be the center of attention, will gleefully run its motor to laboriously produce two inches of towel. After it's proud accomplishment, it will be unresponsive for roughly 15 seconds before jerking back to life with an irritated groan. Be satisfied with however few inches you are allotted; they often enjoy jamming themselves.
Despite being a rough generalization, this description holds true for 90% of college restrooms. Some actually work (I am told, I have never encountered one). Others are a hybrid of modern technology and traditional germ collecting equipment. Then there are those that no one dares to use, mainly because the last janitor sent to clean them was never heard from again. But restrooms are a necessity to the school day, so either hold it or get really brave really fast.
Friday, February 10, 2012
test anxiety
One of the worst parts of any new semester is the first test day.
Another one of the worst moments is the day you get your results back.
Statistically, this will be the worst test score received the entire semester. This is due to many different factors: sleep or the lack thereof, studying or again the lack of, stress, additional homework (for a different class), and the fact that no one ever reads the chapter until the week before finals. Plus, at this point in the semester, the campus seems to have a collective "screw it" attitude where no one cares whatsoever.
These factors add up to make a rather harrowing first exam experience. This is the test were pencils are never sharp, erasers take expeditions into the far reaches of your backpack never to be heard from again, and you show up late because the idiot on his cellphone stole your parking spot. This is the test when you bust into the classroom, causing disproving glances from all inside, hot and panting and so not ready to take a test. In the event that you actually did study, this is the test where the results show that your IQ leaves something to be desired. A teacher I had once referred to this as "test anxiety."
"Test anxiety" occurs when you glance at a question, usually a true or false, and proudly claim "The answer is A." However, when you get the test results back, you will realize that you marked "B." After explaining my mistake to aforesaid teacher, he smugly chuckled and told me "It happens a lot in my classes. People don't read well enough and end up marking the wrong answer. It's test anxiety." Needless to say, I detested this professor.
"Test anxiety" is also the cause of many a failed essay question. Given roughly 45 minutes to write approximately 500 words is a tedious task for any student. When a student experiences test anxiety during an essay question, any material covered in class will miraculously vanish into oblivion. The Psyc test I had recently called this a problem with "memory retrieval." I marked "blank slate memory." Anxiety. Go figure. But when 50% of the test relies on a properly composed essay, this is when you hope the teacher assigns extra credit assignments because you're screwed.
There are ways to get past test anxiety. Much like a military drill, it helps to review study guides and main points before entering class on test day. The hope is that when all coherent thought vanishes, there will be one or two pertinent facts that remain. Also, hope the teacher grades on a curve.
The anxiety of taking the test is comparable to the anxiety of receiving the grade. There are several different tactics of psyching oneself up. For instance, there's the "hope I did good" karma technique. This is only satisfying if one did indeed "do good." There is the "act like I flunked so I'm pleasantly surprised" technique. Again, this only works if you were actually surprisingly good. Otherwise, you disappointingly correct in your assessment. I personally go the whole "pathological avoidance" technique and pretend nothing ever happened. This statistically does not work.
After one's heart sinks into their stomach while reading their grade, the teacher takes this opportunity to proudly state "Now, it is possible to get 100% on these tests. In fact, someone did in this class." He will proudly beam at the person ironically sitting right next to you with the big "A+" circled on their test. But, on the bright side, your teacher knows you aren't a cheater.
The first test is always the most difficult and the black spot on your grade for the entire semester, but the first test proves to be a great motivator for studying for the next test. Granted, students still don't read the book and they often cram the night before but the next test score will most likely show a 25% improvement. If it doesn't, copy from the person next to you.
Another one of the worst moments is the day you get your results back.
Statistically, this will be the worst test score received the entire semester. This is due to many different factors: sleep or the lack thereof, studying or again the lack of, stress, additional homework (for a different class), and the fact that no one ever reads the chapter until the week before finals. Plus, at this point in the semester, the campus seems to have a collective "screw it" attitude where no one cares whatsoever.
These factors add up to make a rather harrowing first exam experience. This is the test were pencils are never sharp, erasers take expeditions into the far reaches of your backpack never to be heard from again, and you show up late because the idiot on his cellphone stole your parking spot. This is the test when you bust into the classroom, causing disproving glances from all inside, hot and panting and so not ready to take a test. In the event that you actually did study, this is the test where the results show that your IQ leaves something to be desired. A teacher I had once referred to this as "test anxiety."
"Test anxiety" occurs when you glance at a question, usually a true or false, and proudly claim "The answer is A." However, when you get the test results back, you will realize that you marked "B." After explaining my mistake to aforesaid teacher, he smugly chuckled and told me "It happens a lot in my classes. People don't read well enough and end up marking the wrong answer. It's test anxiety." Needless to say, I detested this professor.
"Test anxiety" is also the cause of many a failed essay question. Given roughly 45 minutes to write approximately 500 words is a tedious task for any student. When a student experiences test anxiety during an essay question, any material covered in class will miraculously vanish into oblivion. The Psyc test I had recently called this a problem with "memory retrieval." I marked "blank slate memory." Anxiety. Go figure. But when 50% of the test relies on a properly composed essay, this is when you hope the teacher assigns extra credit assignments because you're screwed.
There are ways to get past test anxiety. Much like a military drill, it helps to review study guides and main points before entering class on test day. The hope is that when all coherent thought vanishes, there will be one or two pertinent facts that remain. Also, hope the teacher grades on a curve.
The anxiety of taking the test is comparable to the anxiety of receiving the grade. There are several different tactics of psyching oneself up. For instance, there's the "hope I did good" karma technique. This is only satisfying if one did indeed "do good." There is the "act like I flunked so I'm pleasantly surprised" technique. Again, this only works if you were actually surprisingly good. Otherwise, you disappointingly correct in your assessment. I personally go the whole "pathological avoidance" technique and pretend nothing ever happened. This statistically does not work.
After one's heart sinks into their stomach while reading their grade, the teacher takes this opportunity to proudly state "Now, it is possible to get 100% on these tests. In fact, someone did in this class." He will proudly beam at the person ironically sitting right next to you with the big "A+" circled on their test. But, on the bright side, your teacher knows you aren't a cheater.
The first test is always the most difficult and the black spot on your grade for the entire semester, but the first test proves to be a great motivator for studying for the next test. Granted, students still don't read the book and they often cram the night before but the next test score will most likely show a 25% improvement. If it doesn't, copy from the person next to you.
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