I’m sitting here watching my students take their final exam, and they all look so scared and serious. . . I want to hug them all and scream, “It’s just a piece of paper! It doesn’t define you!” but I guess that would hardly be PC. Not that I care about PC; I just don’t want to get sued.

The class next door is having a very loud party. I wish I’d thought of that That’s actually against the rules, so next semester, maybe I’ll just take my students across the parking lot to Pizza Hut instead of being really, really loud in a room with thin walls during the official college finals week celebrating in the regional campus building itself where we might get caught we might disturb someone.

Oh, students dear, don’t take it so deadly seriously; it’s just a test. You’re all lovely people no matter what a percentage on a piece of paper might end up being.

Dear people: it’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t measure worth. It doesn’t measure attitude. It doesn’t measure talent, or propensity for lending a helping hand to people in need. It doesn’t measure your capacity for love and devotion and caring. It doesn’t measure personality traits, or good manners. It doesn’t even measure work ethic, although application of such might help relieve some of the stress of the moment.

I want you all to do well on this test, but even if you don’t, you’re the best class I’ve ever had, collectively, and some of the finest people I’ve ever met, individually.

Relax. Calm yourselves. Take a break and run down the hall and get a Sprite. It’s going to be all right. Really. You’ve all been out of school for a very long time and your nervousness is natural. Just try to tone it down; this test really isn’t worth the strain you’re putting on yourselves. Chill, my darling students.

It’s just a piece of paper.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly