When I got a 2.5 in Math 110.2, I was ecstatic. I was, in fact, delighted enough to text my father the good news that I was given a grade two tiers higher than expected. During the Phi Kappa Phi induction, he whispered to my ear that despite being inducted to these kinds of circles, he knew that the grade that made me the happiest was that 2.5, and he was quite right. But now I stand face to face with the possibility of getting the worst grade I can get my entire undergraduate life: a 2.25. Certainly there is nothing wrong with a 2.25. Many even, I believe, would find salvation in a 2.25. So you might think there’s really no reason for me to be selfish. But trust me it’s all relative. (In particular, it’s the deviation of the actual grade from its expected value that spells the difference.)
Very few things can get close to being as devastating as getting a grade lower than what I could have gotten. And by what I could’ve gotten I don’t mean in some far off fantasy or some distant dream. By what I could’ve gotten I mean what I really would’ve gotten if I’d have done what I always used to do to get a 2.5 in M110.3 and a 2.25 in Math 162: I did my best.
But before I give away anymore of my grades, allow me an attempt to mathematize my point.
Let
A = grade in Math 110.3;
B = grade in Math 110.2 = 2.5 (given above)
Claim:
The true worth of any grade, denoted by the function T(X), is the difference between its actual and expected values.
Where the expected value is a function of performance throughout the semester (P) and effort (F), which is constant at F* considering the assumption given above: I did my best.
That is, T(X) = E(X) – X,
where X = actual grade;
and E(X) = f (F*, P)
Notice that productive capacity (PC), aka. ability or intelligence, is not included in the model. This is because F measures the extent to which PC has been utilized.
Hence, in this model, F* = PC and I have maximized my productive capacity.
Now, if E(B) = 3.0, then T(B) = 3.0 – 2.5 = 0.5
While if E(A) = 1.75, then T(A) = 1.75 – 2.25 = -0.5
As we can see, T(A) and T(B) are additive inverses of each other. So although in absolute terms, a 2.25 is better than a 2.5, its worth to the student is diminished by the grade’s expected value.
The point is, I could have gotten a 1.75 had I studied a few days earlier than I did before the exams, and a little more studiously, and had I gotten a good nights sleep the nights before. In other words, a little extra effort could’ve gotten me a long way.
Relativity is rather fantastic, isn’t it?
Anyway, it’s no one else’s fault but mine and I plead guilty. At least I did. It’s just sad that people undervalue those increments in effort that make a big difference.
It reminds me of the time I was watching my idol, Dr. Paras compute my M110.1 grade. I was a thousandth of a decimal short of the next tier (all right, I’ll say it..) 1.75. I didn’t know that time if I could ask her to just round it off. In the end, I didn’t. But contemplating on it now, I realize that there was no harm in trying. My standing had already been 2.0 before I took the finals (I was technically exempted), but still I took it and raised my average a little, only it wasn’t enough. :( She could’ve at least given me the 0.003 for effort. Asking for it wouldn’t have cost me anything, and getting it would’ve been an additional 0.25 x 3 units to my general weighted average. Maybe I wouldn’t even have to be scampering for that critical Latin honor cut-off if I had swallowed my pride that one time and asked for a round up.
Well, point justified. Pretty much.
To those of you guys out there who still have a chance (i.e., those little boys in my org who deceivingly turn out to be DOST scholars and Magna cum Laude candidates), grab it! Don’t just wave at them as they pass you by. Don’t make my mistake. :)
|