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During my senior year in college, I served as if a teacher's assistant. One of my roles was to administer and proctor the exams. The class was a freshman

introductory course, which had well over five hundred students. In order to manage these five hundred college freshmen, I had to establish rules.

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The rules were as follows. The exams began at exactly 9:00 a.m. The students would pick up their test booklets and blue books and proceed to a seat. They would have exactly fifty minutes to complete the examination.

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When final exam time came, the students were so indoctrinated into the system that I only needed to announce one warning at 9:40 a.m. So, as the

final minutes ticked away, I announced, "It is 9:40. You have ten minutes until pencils down."

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At exactly 9:50 a.m., I would say, "Pencils down!" Everyone had to stop

writing immediately, put their pencils down, proceed to the front of the room and turn out in their blue books.

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Those who did not put their pencils down at exactly 9:50 a.m. and give their

blue books to me would receive an automatic F, no exceptions!

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Then at 9:50 a.m., I gave my last command for that semester: "It's 9:50, pencils down. You know the rules!"

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And boom, all pencils went down, just like always. All 500 students stood – or was it only 499? Yes, it was. Everyone was filled the aisle except for one

sneaky guy.

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He was just writing and writing away. I saw him up there, but he didn't think I could have. Once again, I said, "Pencils down everyone!"

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But he kept writing and writing, trying to beat my system. How dare he! Boy, would I get him! At 9:58 a.m., as I began to organize the stacks of examination packets, I saw this young man running down the aisle to surrender his exam to the table.

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"Here, Mr. D'Angelo, take my blue book!" he huffed and puffed. It was an attempt at making me to break the whole system! "I cannot accept this. You

know the rules. Pencils down at 9:50 a.m., or you get an automatic F!"

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"Please, Mr. D'Angelo, take my blue book!"

"No! You know I can't do that. It's against the rules."

"Please, please, take my blue book. I'm barely passing this class. My mom and dad are going to kill me if I will have to repeat this class. Just take it, and no one will ever know." A tear began to stream down his cheek.

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"I'm sorry. I just can't." I went back to the stacks, organizing them one by one. The young man just turned and walked away with his shoulders

slumped.

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Now with a stack of five hundred or so blue books in my arms, I watched the freshman to walk up the stairs toward the exit. Just about at the halfway

point, he changed his mind and approached me again.

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He questioned softly, "Mr. D'Angelo, do you know who I am?"

"Why no, and frankly I couldn't care less."

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"Are you sure you don't know who I am?" he inquired with even greater confidence. I started to get a little concerned. Was this the dean's son? What

had I gotten myself into?

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"No, I'm sorry. I don't," I said with a little hesitation in my voice.

"Are you absolutely, 100 percent sure that you don't know who I am?"

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"For the last time, no, I don't know who you are!" "Well then, good!" and he has shoved his blue book into the middle of the stack and ran out of the

door.

Over Saturday morning pancakes, my parents announced they had

(0) … me in an all-girls Catholic school with uniforms. If I had been cutting class, I might have understood.

ROLL

But I hadn’t even done anything forbidden to deserve it. So when

fall crept around, there I was sighing (1) …

RESENT

as I stomped dramatically to my dad’s sedan in stiff, shiny penny loafers. I went to my first class, sat down and didn’t open my mouth for an entire semester. It was a scene from the annals of (2)

… scenarios.

NIGHTMARE

Luckily, my new classmates, private school-bred (3) … , didn’t prove to be wealthy snots with expensive purses and a million tortures planned for inferior classmates like myself. So by the beginning of spring, I’d mumbled enough words to make a few

good friends.

CREATE

My new private school friends couldn’t be bothered to engage in the snobby insults and hair-pulling stunts I’d come to fear from a lifetime of bad teen movies. Such a small school couldn’t even (4)

… a social hierarchy.

HOLD

In this society, however, you were forced to get a (5) … . This wasn’t like public school friendships when preppies drifted towards someone looking like them. We were forced to look the same; what distinguished us was the person beneath the plaid, and it was time to figure out just who she was.

PERSON

So my routine polyester plaid getup made the same transposition

from creepy to, well, (6) … creepy.

LOVE

We knew what the uniform did to civilians, it was a superhero’s

disguise bestowing the powers of (7) … and charm.

INNOCENT

So this private school had never become (8) …, and it never

became prison either.

PUNISH

(9) …, I did graduate with a well-carved sense of self and a solid group of girlfriends I will be close to till we are all in grandmother

shoes.

EVENT

And for the rest of my life I’ll be able to juice up (10)… with the

simple boast: I survived an all-girls Catholic high school.

CONVERSE

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have

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to

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out

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to

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will

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was

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has

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sooner had I arrived

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who Miss Parker was

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known to have been/ known by everybody/ everyone as

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something on your

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had read the book

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the job with little

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you would benefit/ profit/ gain etc. from

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enabled her to

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have my skirt let

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regret telling you

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resentfully

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loveably, lovably/ lovely

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nightmarish

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innocence

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creatures

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punishment

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uphold

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Eventually/ eventually

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personality/ persona

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conversations/ conversation