It's exam time. Stress, books, paper, hand-outs and tears are all flying in a whirling dervish that rivals a scene from Tornado Alley. I will add, quite smugly, that I have now finished my exams. 4 essays and 2 exams later, the shackles have been lifted. I am free to do whatever I want for close to 4 months.
Talking of the topic of exams, I would like to not concentrate on the students, or even the teachers for that matter. No. I would like to talk about the silent, slow-shuffling and mysterious invigilators. These shadowy creatures tend to come in two guises: older, knitted jumper-wearing bespectacled folk, or young, fresh-skinned and slightly nervous looking young'uns. There is no in between, no median value. It carries a binary logic and that is proven scientific fact. Anyway, what intrigues me about these people is not the fact that most of them are either fresh, new teachers or more weathered and battle-hardened veterans. What intrigues me about them is the job they actually do.
There's probably some subsection of an appendix which has been bullet pointed and footnoted under section 568.B Classification 1.23.12 of the exam handbook that thoroughly and accurately describes what an invigilator does. In short, they're supposed to make sure everything goes swimmingly when hoards of beastly children descend on exam halls to unleash what little their memory can hold. They are also an invaluable dispenser of stationary (much like IKEA and Argos), and the gatekeepers to the sacred land that is the toilets during the few hours of an exam. From the perspective of the student, they are the all-seeing eye; the Big Brother in the room. They see all who dares cheat, and they punish the culprits in a similar manner to Icarus, melting their wings until they fall out of the exam-sky and into the sea of failure.
Now. This may seem a noble and worthwhile job, but from what I have gathered, it must be pretty fucking boring. A two and half hour English Literature exam is hideous enough from the perspective of someone who has been given something to occupy the two and a half hours with. Staring at a large group of students pushing a pen around a page and coughing occasionally sounds like a less exciting version of waterboarding. And so, it came to my attention last year that the invigilators, despite their appearance, are actually human.
As Radio 1 went on to prove, invigilators play games whilst invigilating. To the schools and councils that employ these guardians of our nations future, this will horrify them. Headteachers and Councillors look at each other with serious faces of woe, and parents of exam-takers will mutter about how things have changed and need to be tightened. But from the vulnerable underbelly that is the exam-taker, I find this absolutely amazing. In fact, I will go so far as to say that it has given me hope. Invigilators are human beings; they gain no satisfaction in being in the same room as an exam, let alone watching it be done by 200 or so people.
Many invigilators have come forward, and thanks to the anonymity of a computer screen, many have shared their games with the rest of the world. The first (and cruellest/most fantastic) game I heard of was the 'Stand by the person who...' game. The invigilators decide upon a suitable ending to this phrase (for example, 'Stand by the person who is the ugliest/most likely to be in prison by the age of 20/is still a virgin etc.), and then proceed to stand by the child who best fits the criteria. It's simple, effective, brutally fantastic and I very much applaud the invigilators for this gem. 9/10.
Another example (and my current favourite, in fact) is the school yard game of Tag: Invigilator's Edition. As you've probably guessed, it stays true to the tried and tested formula of Tag. An invigilator is 'on it', and then 'chases' at walking pace another invigilator, before swooping in on them. They will then whisper the magic word, donning a serious face: Tag. I'm guessing this could go on for hours, and to be honest, applaud it's genius. The subtlety of the 'tag' delivery is a true test of an invigilators composure, and I've yet to see one crack up. I'd rate it at a solid 7.5/10.
A more obscure game I've heard of is Battleships: Exam Hall. An invigilator will choose a row of students, dictated by their seat number, to be part of one of his 'ships'. Another invigilator, having done the same thing, will then attempt to guess where their opponents 'ship' is, and attempt to sink it: directly akin of the classic Battleships. This must've required some serious thought and devotion by the invigilators who first dreamed this up. I like the introduction of another classic game from the archives being brought into a new context, but I feel it is lacking the simplicity and easy application of Tag and 'Stand by...'. This is one for the longer exam; those sweaty, mid-June History or Politics badboys. 5/10. Must try harder.
The simplest, and probably most nerve-racking example of Invigilator's games is the 'Hold Out For As Long You Can Before Tending to the Pupil With Their Hand Up' game. This game requires, despite the name's cryptic nature, the invigilator to hold out for as long as they possibly can before caving in and tending to the pupil with their hand up. This would occur when multiple invigilators are dotted around the corners of the room, and they are required to act in a dignified manner and act completely professional at all times during the game. The beauty of this game is the sheer accessibility; any and all invigilators can and probably have been a part of this game. The pupil is left unsuspecting and with their dignity unharmed, unlike many of the other games. For sheer simpleness and inconvenience, I will rate this game as a solid 8/10. Childish, original, and almost definitely addictive, it is the invigilator's version of Angry Birds.
So, you may now be questioning as to why I chose to write and score invigilator's exam games. Well, the answer was pointed out earlier on: it gives me hope. When the invigilator, who's sole purpose during the time of an exam is to keep it running smoothly and rat out the cheaters, is distracted, then the job cannot be done properly. If their job cannot be done properly, then the rules are out and handcuffs taken off for the pupils to cheat; swerve answers from a neighbour, take a risky look at the notes written on your fingers, use the calculator stashed in your sleeve. The exam hall becomes much more like real life; the people who don't always abide by the rules and 'play the game' will be the winners. Potentially.
I've always sided with the people who attempted to cheat in an exam. I feel exams have always been a test more of memory than understanding and knowledge. If people were promoted to cheat, then schools would be promoting lateral and out-of-the-box thinking; the people who come up with the ideas and the goods in the world of business. I mean, how many honest businessmen/company directors do you know? Don't work hard, work smart. The invigilator's in the exam hall are a good example. They are getting paid handsomely for playing Tag, and allowing students to do that little bit extra to help them grade well. Sounds more fun than being shouted at for using two gherkins instead of one on a Big Mac, doesn't it?
