If you have been following my posts, you know that so far this school year has been a bit of a struggle. Of course a big factor of this is the fact that I had an epic struggle with walking pneumonia right when the first round of midterms hit. And in reality, I would like for that to be the whole story. But if it was, I wouldn’t be so apprehensive about the next round that happen at the end of the month. The truth is third year is known as one of the hardest years in a physics undergrad. I am not the only person struggling. In fact, third year is so infamous that when I ran into someone who was a TA in one of my second year classes, this conversation actually happened:

Him: “Hey! How’s it going?”

Me: “Oh… you know… third year…”

Him: “I’m so sorry.”

There was no explanation needed. Some of my friends (who mostly all have their PhD’s and went through this exact struggle years ago) commiserated with me, telling me stories of the midterms that they failed, and the number of people they saw break down in tears. On the one hand, this was very encouraging. These people, who in my eyes are successful, they have completed their degrees, earned their doctorates, and are actively working in the field (a few of them have even taught as professors) went through the same struggle as me and have come out the other side. On the other hand, part of me wonders why this has to be. Why does the difficulty level go from mild to super extra spicy in third year, then back down to about a medium after?

And why is it such a trend that despite getting such high marks on our assignments, we’re all testing so low in our midterms and exams? I am not the only one who failed the first quantum mechanics midterm this semester. And I thought my 54% in my advanced dynamics midterm was pretty terrible until I learned that it was about the same as the class average. And yet I (and my classmates) rarely get a score below 90% on our assignments.

The easy thing to do would be to assume that we’re cheating on our assignments. In fact, a lot of professors do assume that. Every semester we get the same admonishments about how using ChatGPT means we won’t learn the material, and when they see the discrepancy between our assignment marks and our test scores, they feel vindicated, like that’s the answer. Well, I can’t speak for everyone in the program, perhaps some of them are cheating, but my group and myself surely are not. But when I think about the way we do assignments, I can see now where the mark discrepency comes in.

Our physics classes each put out a weekly assignment. They are usually covering some quite complex material that we just learned that week. In order to successfully complete the assignments, it takes hours.

We pore over our notes trying to replicate the tricky derivations we did in class, we discuss with each other strategies to solve the problems, and slog through problem after problem. Then immediately move on to the next assignment for the next class. Then in the next class, we move on to the next batch of material and start the process all over again. On top of this, we have a third year lab that requires us to work on data analysis and lab reports.

Ideally we would be able to go home and study and do practice problems to solidify these concepts. However the pace at which the classes and assignments go require us to basically move on to the next round of material, and our only chance to catch up on what we’re struggling to learn is the window just before exams where our profs give us a break to review by not setting any assignments. But we never get the chance to get efficient at solving these problems. In an exam or a midterm, we do not get hours. We get a set amount of time to try and replicate what we could previously only do by spending triple the amount of time on it while looking at our notes.

I’m not saying that they should teach us less material. But I’m wondering about the assignments. Perhaps there should be fewer. Or instead of big complex problems, they should be smaller bite-sized problems that let us practice solving components of the bigger ones in a more efficient manner. Perhaps some class time could be set aside for peer study group sessions. One of my friends told me one of the best ways to learn something is to explain it to someone else. In fact, he said he didn’t really understand quantum mechanics until he taught it. Since that was the midterm I failed, it led me to write Science Snippet #2, so if you’re interested in quantum mechanics at all (and ice cream!) I would recommend checking that out (click here).

I suppose the point of all of this is that rather than actually learning the concepts in a deep and replicable way, we’re simply “doing” school. We’re cranking out assignments like clock work, cramming to get the base level of material we need to pass our exams (and sometimes failing to do that), and moving on to the next topic. And the plan is to rinse and repeat until we get a piece of paper that says we’re finished. And from what I’ve heard, this has been going on for years.

Perhaps it’s time for educators to revisit what the purpose of a class and assignment is. Are their students really learning, or are they just “doing” school? What is the end goal? To crank out burnt-out graduates? People who are ill-equipped to contribute to the world of science until they re-learn what they need on the job? Something doesn’t feel quite right here…