IB MOCK EXAMS - PRACTICE OR A MOCKERY?

Opinion by Noah Lindsey (Grade 12)

To preface this article that is entirely rooted in a fading interest of any academic activities preceding a long-awaited graduation in about two months, it is important to remind all readers that everything written is merely light-hearted opinion and should not be taken too seriously. I also do not complain this much on a regular basis and, throughout this article, frequently use hyperbolic language for entertainment purposes. 

The IB mock examination is a two-week-long testing period that emulates the process of the real IB exams (which only some of the students will take). KAS makes every student taking an IB course do the mocks, but only the ones who sign up will have to take the real ones in a couple months’ time. For the people who don’t take the real IB exams (like yours truly), the mocks fundamentally serve as your real examination, as they also make up a large portion of your final Semester 2 grade for your IB classes (roughly 40-50 percent). 

Here’s a quick run-down of the procedure of the actual testing for any who are not familiar, which is integral for all of the opinionated content that will soon follow:

• There are two testing periods per day: one in the morning (which, this year, started at 9:30 AM), and one in the afternoon (which started at 1:30 PM).

• You are expected to line up outside of the door 15 minutes prior to the start of the examination. Exams either take place in the Lecture Hall or the Auditorium. 

• Examinations are usually 1-2 hours long, depending on the IB paper model you’re taking. You can also be made to take two papers back-to-back in the same period with a ten-minute break in between. 

• Students are not allowed to bring any non-permitted materials. All water bottles and pencil cases are expected to be entirely clear. No smartwatches or regular watches are allowed as well. Proctors re-read instructions regarding specific test-taking conventions before every single exam.

  
  

• There is a five-minute reading period before the examination where the student is not allowed to pick up a pen. 

• The second the timer goes out, the student has to stop writing immediately.

My experience:

My mocks were, at the very least, an enjoyable period of trauma-bonding with my peers. Regardless of the grades I do end up getting, I think the sheer experience of looking around at the room during the reading period and seeing my classmates’ mortified faces made the two weeks worth it.

Everyone was tested in those rooms, in ways more than academically. Your knowledge of the breadth of the material was only a fraction of what contributed to your success in the mock exams. The mocks demand, more than anything else, an impressive amount of patience and emotional fortitude. 

To get the mildest and most petty complaint out of the way: How is one supposed to cheat on an exam with an analog watch? During my regular tests, I set my wristwatch on the table so I don’t have to strain my neck by doing a complete turnaround or squint at the little digital clock in the corner. It’s an extremely minor inconvenience to be dealing with when you’re trying to dig through your remaining cognitive capacity to remember when the Potsmoke Conference took place. I think anyone who can engineer their Seiko to help them remember chemistry formulas either should be an engineer already, or have used that energy to actually study for the exam. 

The funniest occurrence at this year’s mocks exams was the absurd prevalence of collapsing tables. I am not exaggerating when I say that at almost every single examination I took in the Auditorium, there was a table that collapsed completely and caused a thunderous, disruptive noise that shook everyone to their core. They either need to get new tables or get them fixed by the guy who engineered his Seiko to cheat in his chemistry test. You just had to be on the edge of your seat, because at any given moment, the table right next to you could collapse entirely and cause you to either soil your pants or lose your train of thought; both of which are detrimental to your completion of the thesis statement to your six-paragraph-essay due in fifty minutes.

The lighting in the Auditorium was also famously egregious. I have heard various students complain about having to move their giant head out of the way to read instructions and questions, adding on to the already crippling neck pain that every student has to endure. Maybe cinematic stage lighting doesn’t fare well for clarity of text, but I wouldn’t know that because the teachers let me sit completely isolated from everyone in a corner of the Auditorium due to the fact that the spot they initially gave me had little to no lighting. I appeared to my friends like someone in the distance stranded on an island waving at sailors for help. 

The proctors had to repeat the rules of the examination every single time we took one. It gets tiring after maybe the third time you hear it, and even the teachers sounded tired saying it. The effect of these mandatory reminders is that of an oppressive military-like atmosphere. They might as well refer to us as “maggots” and make us run laps every time we forget to write the number of 4-page answer booklets attached.

Students were also in a perpetual state of anger. Not just from the difficulty of the tests (which I’ll get to in a second) or the lack of sleep, but the mix-ups we had. The most updated schedule had my test times listed incorrectly twice. I didn’t think much of this because I didn’t show up prepared for a test regardless if it was two hours long instead of one, but some of my classmates were very bothered by this.

The biggest point of contention I heard about was the one involving the Chinese Language and Literature test. One of their paper models was misprinted and contained content they had previously learned, resulting in a complete re-test for everyone. Students were rightfully infuriated as a result of this and took the test in a sour mood. My only personal gripe with this whole fiasco is the fact that in the email announcing the re-test, the requirement of the re-test is cited as a “celebration of your learning”, which is really tone-deaf but also kind of funny.

I’m usually in the boat of people that think students at KAS have it comparatively much easier than other schools when it comes to a lot of things. However, I have had to reconsider that assessment after the mocks.

I’ve seen students crying coming out of exam rooms, and heard them say things I’ve never heard them say about any other test. The easiest-going people were speechless and the highest-scorers had almost completely given up all hope of a high grade.

My personal selection of classes made it so that I had to write about nine total essays in one week, not including the other non-essay tests I took. Granted, I am a humanities-oriented student, but my hand has not fully regained control and it has been about ten days. During most tests, I stared into blank space in an attempt to waste time and trigger a sense of urgency so that I could write better answers. I saw many of my classmates do the same as well. The mocks will undoubtedly challenge every academic bone in your body, and I leave them feeling a sense of relief that I didn’t sign up for the real IB exams. Godspeed to everybody who did, though.

Are mocks a good thing or a bad thing?

Though I definitely would not volunteer to do them again, I ultimately believe that the mocks are a rather needed experience, and an essential part of being a highschooler at Kaohsiung American School. You will bleed, you will bend; but that’s a part of life. Most other schools have exam weeks, which is something that KAS does not have until you reach the eleventh grade. It’s a period of intense challenge that requires discipline and self-management, but will leave you well-prepared for your journey after you put that graduation cap on and move halfway across the world to pursue your own endeavors. 

As pertaining to the mocks specifically, I think some minor changes could change the experience dramatically. Namely better tables, better lighting, better schedules, double-checking printed tests, and less military-like delivery while reading the instructions. Other than that, the mocks serve as valuable practice and a perfectly traumatic experience for all KAS seniors.