The Final Grade

BOOM! The final grade dropped into her inbox, the chime of her phone's e-mail alert sounding ten times louder. Even though she'd been waiting for the past three days to get that e-mail it still took her by surprise, and Molly realized she'd forgotten to fret all day about that final literature exam.

It wasn't that she hated books, but literature class was just so boring. She wanted to read, not analyze every other sentence for "authorial intent" or "hidden subtext" that you were required to pick out instantly otherwise you were a simpleton who couldn't possibly appreciate such mastery of the written word. Professor Albright hadn't said it outright, but it was clear to pretty much everyone in the class that she'd picked her favorite books and expected everyone to love them as much as she did.

If Molly did come away liking anything they'd read that semester, it was by sheer coincidence.

The final exam had been all about We Were the Mulvaneys, a long and depressing read. Even Lori Evans had hated it, and she adored tragic drama with horrible or bittersweet endings. Molly had just barely gotten through the book without resorting to Cliff Notes, how was she supposed to remember the symbolism behind a sweater Marianne wore on...page seventy or wherever?

But the final grade was in, with a boom. Molly opened the e-mail, waited for the D to drop along with various constructive criticisms from Professor Albright about what a smart girl she was and how she wasn't working up to her potential. Something she thought was illegal in college because that was what you said to a kid who whined that they were never going to need algebra in the real world.

An A- greeted her.

I have the utmost respect any student who dares to challenge their professor's opinion and be challenged back. :) We are not in this class to soak up material like a sponge sitting on a kitchen counter, but to understand the value of multiple interpretations of art. When someone criticizes our favorite or praises our least favorite, we must be prepared to both defend our feelings and open up our minds to other points of view, and it is a tricky tightrope to walk. That, Miss Nelson, was the true test, and you passed with flying colors.
Happy holidays. :)
-Dianne Albright


Was this a trick? A dream? In high school, English class had basically been "read the book, answer the questions properly, write an essay." She couldn't picture Mr. Swanson giving someone an A for criticizing his take on the church fire scene in The Outsiders. Teachers could and would fail their students for "missing the point" about a book. A math teacher had been fired for constantly belittling the students who didn't grasp the materials as fast as she thought all people should. One of Molly's high school science teachers had taken points off the work of anyone who failed to call Pluto a planet.

Yet here she was, staring at an A- for the time she passionately disagreed with her professor's claim that Alaska Young was not a character but "a cautionary tale". Even in her second year of college she was still learning just how different things were from high school.

An A-. The boom of another e-mail interrupted her thoughts, and Molly quickly typed up a thank-you to Professor Albright. She'd have to see if she was teaching any other literature classes in the future, maybe it wasn't too late to change her schedule for spring.