{"id":6378,"date":"2018-02-09T09:00:22","date_gmt":"2018-02-09T16:00:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/minkhollow.ca\/beckerblog\/?p=6378"},"modified":"2018-02-09T09:44:40","modified_gmt":"2018-02-09T16:44:40","slug":"another-example-of-the-randomness-of-grades","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/minkhollow.ca\/beckerblog\/2018\/02\/09\/another-example-of-the-randomness-of-grades\/","title":{"rendered":"Another example of the Randomness of Grades"},"content":{"rendered":"Approximate Reading Time: <\/span> 2<\/span> minutes<\/span><\/span>

I Can’t Answer These Texas Standardized Test Questions About My Own Poems | The Huffington Post<\/h2>\n

\"\"<\/a>Source: I Can’t Answer These Texas Standardized Test Questions About My Own Poems | The Huffington Post<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

This is an example of the\u00a0actual author<\/strong><\/em> of the poem in the question being unable to figure out what the right answer is supposed to be.<\/p>\n

Think about that for a moment. Don’t you think the author should be the final\u00a0authority\u00a0<\/strong><\/em>on things having to do with the piece they created?<\/p>\n

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I’m reminded of the time I gave my grade 10 English teacher a copy of my brother’s poem. I did\u00a0not<\/strong><\/em>\u00a0<\/em>get along with most English teachers, but this one in particular disliked me.<\/p>\n

I actually ended up failing English that year and had to re-take it in summer school. Now, THAT was the best class I ever had – in my entire school career – and as you can see, we were NOT a typical bunch of kids. One of the kids in the class was even a grade 9 student taking grade 10 English to get ahead (can you guess which one?).<\/p>\n

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Anyhow, this is the poem I gave my teacher:<\/p>\n

Yea, though the bush burneth amongst the oak trees,
\nLet not the cookie crumble into the sea,
\nThus making a mockery of the turnip,
\nWho ate the dwarf.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

My teacher found deep and profound symbolism in this poem, which I found very amusing, seeing as how I knew for a fact that my brother had written it late one night in a drunken stupor. The poem was the drunken rambling of a teenage kid trying to make his similarly drunken friends laugh.<\/p>\n

Perhaps the lesson to take away from these is:<\/p>\n

Intelligence Is Believing Only Half Of What You Hear; Brilliance Is Knowing Which Half.<\/p>\n

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Unfortunately, when we are in school, we rarely have the option of questioning our teachers.<\/p>\n