Quals

As I type, the ship sways slowly in a circular motion. I haven’t slept a solid 8 hours since Tuesday, and right now it’s 2:22 am on Friday, June 15^th. The cruise plan keeps changing and I can’t afford to fall asleep on watch, no matter how much my eyelids droop and my body cries for a caffeine fix. The past month and a half has been nothing short of stressful, exciting and hectic. I’ll get to everything soon enough, but for now I’ll start at the beginning of my 6 weeks of (mostly) hell: Quals.

The qualifying exam is a way for some graduate students who are pursuing a PhD. without having a Master’s degree to bypass that step and say “hey, I’m competent, I can handle my own.” In my department, which is divided into the 4 disciplines of oceanography (physical, geological, chemical and biological), each section provides its students an exam once a year for those PhD. students that do not possess a Master’s. The exam is set by the faculty of the section that the student belongs to (in my case, the biological section), and each year, the faculty members that write questions for the exam changes. Every faculty member is invited to write one to three questions, with the exam totaling 12 questions. Some members can’t be bothered to contribute to the exam, and some contribute the same question every year. The oral part of the exam takes place about a week after the written and, in theory, is based on the incorrect answers from the written.

In theory, the exam tests the material that the student has learned in the 2 years it would take to obtain a Master’s degree, and is based solely on the material of the student’s section. And the faculty can literally ask ANYTHING they feel like. It was this fact that was the cause of most of my stress during my manic study sessions.

The 12-question exam is 4 hours long, meaning that each answer can only take 20 minutes. Granted that given that much time, the answers can’t be very detailed, but that was my first issue with the exam. Going into an exam, not knowing what could possibly be asked, being filled to the brim with information that is just waiting to be vomited onto paper… 20 minutes is not a lot of time to think about what the author of the question is asking for, organize thoughts, and WRITE. Not type. Handwritten answers. I was smart enough to bring a timer with me so I could keep track of myself and be able to answer every question. My suggestion to the faculty for the next person who needs to take the exam would be to either shorten the number of questions or give the person more time. Twenty minutes to answer a question that could be on any subject in the specialized discipline of oceanography is just not fair.

Which brings me to the one question that sticks out in my head, and will probably stay with me for the rest of my life. “Describe the trophic interactions in cold seep environments. What are the primary producers and what is the fixed form of energy they produce?”

My reaction while in the exam room was pretty much “What. The ever-living. Fuck.” In the 2 years that I was taking classes, cold seeps were mentioned probably once and not in much detail. I knew jack shit about cold seeps, but I wasn’t about to just let the points slip away. I needed an average of 7/10 on the written to pass. I wrote about the basics of trophic interactions and how they might be adapted to the environment in question and left it there, mentally cursing the professor who authored it several times over to the fiery pits of hell and beyond.

(See what I mean about being asked anything under the sea?)

The stress and strain I had put on myself for the written exam resulted in one of the worst colds I had ever had. Most people in the office assumed that I was taking a mental health day when I didn’t show up the day after the exam. In reality I was sick as a dog and didn’t want to share my misery with others. That, and I really, REALLY needed to get better for the oral exam that was a week later.

The oral exam, again, in theory, is supposed to discuss the incorrect answers on the written exam and give the student the chance to learn from the mistakes, defend their answers, and move on. But of course, that’s not what actually happened. It turned into a mini-prelim exam. I was asked question after question about my proposal and what might happen in certain scenarios. Given that I have spent the past 2 years both teaching classes and taking classes, I haven’t had the time to work on my project to the degree that questioning faculty seemed to be looking for. But at the same time, I knew that they were looking for the holes in my basic knowledge, trying to figure out how best to help me do what I came to graduate school to do. The worst part was having the proposal be the main focus of the oral, not the exam itself, which is how I prepared, how I was told to prepare.

Despite all of my bitching and moaning, I passed my quals, and I am officially a PhD. student. Some universities and departments allow the qualifying exam to stand for a Master of Arts degree, but unfortunately, mine is not one of them. The bright side is, I know I can do this. The faculty know I can do this. That shiny diploma and hooded gown will be mine.