Midterms: The Real Spooky Season

A memory I have from being in my first year of university was when I wrote (and submitted) my very first paper. It wasn't a complicated subject, and we had plenty of help and support from the professor. In theory, it shouldn't have been a stressful experience. But the sheer notion of submitting a "university level paper" was terrifying to me, and many others. Sure, we had met all the criteria, and given ourselves ample time to proofread, but did we actually do a good job? Did we make some sort of irreversible mistake that would set us upon the course of failure? This paper was somehow dramatically different from any we wrote in high school, and academic validation was becoming increasingly addictive. I recall expressing my first-paper related concerns to a group of friends while sitting in the cafeteria at my old campus. I was met with an interesting observation from a second year student, who said:

"You know, you can always tell who's in their first year and who's in their second. Because I don't feel that way anymore when I do assignments. Now, it's just another paper. But I remember what it was like to feel the way you all do."

This (sort of) helped to put the situation I was in into perspective, but it would still take a while (many years, in fact) until the shadowy beast of bad grades would stop hovering over me as I slept. 

One of the best pieces of advice I have ever received regarding academic success was, fortuitously, given to me in the first university class I ever took. The professor said something to the effect of:

"The key to being successful is not in your ability to power through and study, or write papers for hours on end… it's knowing how to tell when you need a break".

On the surface, this makes complete sense, and sounds really simple. In practice, being able to exercise this mindset requires a level of confidence that, at the time, I didn't have.

Sure, a break sounds great… but what if I'm just procrastinating? It certainly feels like you're doing more when you spend twelve hours straight staring at a black document on your computer screen. Even if you have nothing to show for it, you committed to the task, and that has to be worth something, right?

Later, during a gap year, I discovered Pomodoro while studying for a professional exam. If you haven't heard of it, it's essentially a technique that attempts to maximize efficiency by setting a timer in which you will work for an allotted amount of time, followed by a timed break that's usually around a quarter or a third as long as your study time. This is repeated however many times are necessary for you to complete the task at hand. 

Pomodoro helped me become more comfortable with the idea of strategic studying. While I don't often use it anymore, it helped turn me away from my previous tactic of self-imposed imprisonment at my desk, for which I am grateful. 

After countless assignments were submitted, and several midterms/final exams were written with varying levels of success, I noticed a shift in my attitude towards academics. Sure, midterms continue to be scary - pretty much every time. Hard work and commitment are still necessary to do well. But what I was actually lacking at the start of my academic career was the ever-critical trust in myself and my abilities. To follow instructions correctly. To study the right material. Most importantly, to be able to get back up and try again when I failed at one, or both, of those two things. 

Over time, I built this relationship with myself, and now, in my final semester of my second go at an undergraduate degree, I have concluded that one's frame of mind, alongside faith in what they are capable of, is crucial to succeed. Not only in academia, but in life in general. 

So, fellow midterm-takers, while being enrolled in university certainly adds to the frightful nature of the spookiest month of the year, try to remember every step you have taken to get you to where you are now. All of it counts, and each day, you continue to get closer to meeting your goals. Even on the nights that the boogeyman creeps up on you, the sun is only hours away from rising again.