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Scribe
Join Date: Feb 2006
Location: Orange (city not county)
Gender: Male
Posts: 90
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Confessions of an average student: The Con
And there I sat, my yellow Dixon Ticonderoga pencil dabbing impatiently at my paper, the light reflecting off of the metal part near the eraser just so that it hurt my eyes to stare at it for too long. I put the pencil down for a moment and brought my hand up to scratch my head. I wasn’t itchy or anything, I just tended to scratch my head, rub the sparsely forested hair on my chin, or smooth out my thick eyebrows when I got nervous.
But no, I thought, you can’t look nervous, that makes you seem suspicious. I looked up to the front of the room where the Doctor sat grading papers, his eyes stuck on his laptop. I tapped my foot, staring at him through the tops of my eyelids. I lifted my right hand to my brow, forming an eyeshade with my palms and fingers so that my line of sight was now blocked from the Doctor. I pulled the pale-yellow post-it note from under the desk with my left hand.
I had used a faded black pen to write on it- this makes the note seem unsuspicious. I had made sure that the writing was scratchy- hard to read, see to it that you can fit as much information on the post-it without making it seem formal or planned. Make it look like some mindless scribbling, like a pointless afterthought, I had told myself, that way, when (or if) you get asked about it, you can pull an “Oh, this?” and play the dumb, forgetful student game. “Yes, sir, I made a mistake, my bad, sir.” No questions asked- maybe a suspicious look, but return it with a dumb grin and all suspicions are relieved- wait to sigh in relief until the Doctor is at least ten feet away. They won’t catch on that way.
I focused my eyes onto the cheat post-it, making sure that my paper was just in the right place so that I could pass for focusing on it and not on my lap. I looked until I knew the information by heart and I didn’t have to glance back again. No, repetitive motions give away everything- stay away from that. I wrote in my answer.
There is just something about cheating- on a test that is, not plagiarizing on a paper or a report, just on a test- something that is just so clumsy and awkward about it. I had never really made myself accustomed to the practice- I’d admit that I was pretty new to this sort of thing, not a pro at all. But I was a smart kid, which was what I didn’t get, I could easily think of some sly, effective way to cheat. Yet every time, it just felt so strange, like hiding a third arm under a desk. I mean a post-it note? How cliché was that? I’m sure that there is some eloquent way to cheat that can be learned, but what is it? I’d never seen it in all of the classes I’d ever been in, but I suppose that that’s the real trick. The graceful cheaters are never seen, as if the custom had grown into a simple and artful skill, wielded like a painter’s brush or a violinist’s bow. The perfect cheater slips by, knowing all of the tricks, all of the styles- no one can ever catch him.
I was almost done with the test now, writing the last few answers. There was something about this cheating, something that bothered me. After a cheater is finished, he doesn’t feel certain about his job. No, he is worried, unsure, not confident at all about what he has done, whether he should be or not. The results of the test still hang in his mind, nagging at him like a bothering fly, but there’s another one. You can’t get too worried about the test- you may as well wear a sandwich board saying “cheater” in the classroom. No, you should distance yourself from the test, as if you studied and have nothing to worry about. That’s the key.
Now I was done with the test and it was time to turn in the paper. First, glance at it for a while, pretending to check the answers- you don’t want to be the first one to turn in the test. Now it’s okay to get up, but wait, make sure that you hide the evidence first. Find a good hiding spot- there’s the back of the calculator case, but all of the teachers know about that one. Don’t wrap the scratch paper around it- leaving the evidence in the room is dangerous: you never know if the trash can will turn over and the Doctor will notice your cheat sheet lying on the floor. Then he might make everyone take the test over and you’ll have to make a new cheat sheet. The battery compartment of the calculator- that one works, but the post-it doesn’t fit well in there. A pocket is good, but don’t let it look like you’re putting it in there. No, pants pocket hiding is too awkward. The breast pocket- perfect: just a fluid motion, smooth your hair and put the post-it in the breast pocket. And now for the walk up.
The facial expression is key- don’t look too confident, but not too worried either. Careless is the way to go- look like you don’t care, hand in the paper with a polite smile. The Doctor didn’t even look up, keeping his eyes focused on his work as he grabbed my paper. Now go sit down after you throw away your scratch paper. Good. Now read a book and wait- don’t make eye-contact, just wait for the bell to ring, and then you are free.
It’s not that I’m stupid or that I enjoy cheating, but sometimes it’s best to do what is necessary to get what you need. And right now, I need the grade. God will forgive me for cheating, but my parents won’t forgive me for an “F”. If you don’t get caught, it never happened.
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