How we cheated on exams: Lifehacker's experience
How we cheated on exams: Lifehacker's experience
Anonim

In the midst of the USE, the editors remembered how they prepared and hid cheat sheets, came up with cunning schemes and secretly carried the phone into the audience.

How we cheated on exams: Lifehacker's experience
How we cheated on exams: Lifehacker's experience

In my third year I was taking some kind of investment management. The teacher, knowing me, said: "The telephone is on the table." I put. He said, "The second phone is on the table." I put. He calmed down. I wrote off from the third phone.

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Dmitry Yanyuk Creator.

My parents had a funny story at university. The teacher, having lingered, abruptly enters the exam and menacingly asks something like: "Well, rustle?" And unexpectedly he offers the one who will pave a continuous path of spurs from Kamchatka to his chair, a five automatically.

The proposal is provocative and controversial. And you understand what huge audiences were in Soviet universities? But one dude didn't get scared and started pulling out cribs. One, one more, and so he not only paved the path, but also made a whole loop around the pulpit.

The daredevil was not the only one: the second candidate lacked a couple of centimeters to reach the goal.

The teacher turned out to be honest and with a sense of humor: he gave the first dude an A, the second - an A.

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Alexey Ponomar Publisher.

In my first year, I once in my life got into an exam with a cheat sheet. I went into the office, and the comrade leaving there put it in my hands with the comment "It will come in handy." I quickly hid the sheet in my shirt as I walked - of course, not the safest place. The ticket came across normal, I sit, I decided almost everything. Then the teacher left the audience and I remembered about the spur: I thought that I urgently needed to pull it out of my shirt and put it in my pocket, because when I go to answer, they will immediately notice. And of course, at the time of the transfer, the teacher successfully came back, saw me with a spur and sent me with a disappointment for a retake. On his retakes it was impossible to get anything higher than a three, and this was the first three in my record book. It was a shame then, as a schoolboy! Then, of course, as it usually happens, the shame in this area quickly passed and I became an inveterate C grade.

And in the 11th grade I was kicked out from the annual test, because everyone around was exchanging calculators and the teacher did not react in any way, but when I asked a neighbor for a calculator, she forbade me. I said it was unfair and I was kicked out. So, instead of a five in my school certificate, I have a four. ?

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Liza Platonova Author.

I was terribly afraid to take mathematics. When we had a trial exam, I wrote them for two or almost two - at such a pace it was possible to remain without a certificate. A couple of days before the exam, I was completely panicked. I even tried to find a watch with a built-in calculator somewhere, realizing my problems with counting. But they failed to find a gadget, and it was too late to order something from AliExpress.

Then I started to google frantically - I found a site where I was supposed to post versions of the Unified State Exam from the Far East. It was scary that they would deceive me and no one would lay out anything, but I had no other option.

On the day of the exam, I got up at four in the morning and sat on the site until eight. Some tasks were actually posted there. I tried to remember what I could, and wrote something on the cheat sheets.

When we were given the options for the exam, there was a terrible disappointment: of course, there was not what was posted on the site. But in part C, I came across a similar equation: I remembered which algorithm to solve it, and I solved it correctly. As a result, I passed math for 63 points and was satisfied. But it is better, of course, to spend your student's time preparing, and not looking for a watch with a calculator.

Nataliya Aleksa Author of the column "Your own business".

I entered the university in two specialties at once: sociology and radio engineering. On radio technology, I could become the only girl in the stream. And so, when I was taking algebra, I came in a sundress with a smell, covering all my legs with formulas. When everyone started writing, I uncovered my knees and started rolling the formulas.

A little later, I realized that at that moment absolutely the entire audience was looking at me (some with envy, and some and not only!). The teacher also understood that something was wrong, but when he came up to me, I just lowered my legs and the skirt was wrapped around. Naturally, he could not ask me to pick it up and everything went well.

In the end, I entered radio engineering, but still chose sociology.

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Artyom Gorbunov Video department employee.

Cheated not only by me, but also by me. So, in 2010 I took the exam in history. History was needed almost everywhere I wanted to go. I knew her well and did not worry at all.

What I can’t say about my classmates: as soon as the exam began, they immediately began to twitch me. First, one girl, sitting in front of me through one, was able to pass a crumpled note with a fingernail with a light question from the first part. I scribbled the answer on the same piece of paper and handed it back.

After some time, another couple of people from the row asked for help. And then my classmate from the next row begged: he threw me a piece of paper across the class. I realized that I would definitely be asleep, but he looked so pitying that I could not refuse. And as soon as I swung to forward the hint, I heard the voice of the teacher on duty in the class behind me: "What is this?" I looked back at her, imagined how I was kicked out of the exam, I do not go to university, I sit at home for several years, bothering my mother to get money for a bottle of beer.

“This breeze brought someone's trash,” I replied, looking at my classmate. Then he got up to defiantly throw out the piece of paper, and, passing by his friend, folded his fingers in front of his nose, showing the answer. Our lives were saved.

Polina Nakrainikova Editor-in-chief.

All my school and university life went through cheating: it seems that there was no exam, which I would not have come with a cheat sheet. I even had a special jacket with wide pockets that could fit any spurs. Here are just three stories that happened to me.

The first story, tragic. I went to the exam in history with the intention to google it properly. The phone is an old Nokia, which instantly cut off the Internet as soon as I received an SMS or a call. Absolutely all my acquaintances, friends and, of course, my boyfriend were warned that I should not write and call. It was not possible to write off in any way: first the teachers fired, then the inspectors came in. By the middle of the exam, my palms were sweating terribly, and I never took out my phone. Finally, I asked to go to the toilet, pressed myself against the wall of the booth and frantically began to drive into the search engine some fact from the life of Peter I. Suddenly, my connection was lost. I realized that I was dying and my high scores were disappearing every minute. What could be worse? The reason why this connection was interrupted: I received an SMS from a guy that he decided to part with me. Nothing has happened to me more sad than this exam, and I don't even know which was more offensive: an unexpected parting or an unsuccessful attempt to cheat.

The second story is technological. Once my best friend got a micro-earpiece and decided to use it for an exam. I had to sit on the other side and read the answers to the ticket. We chose a slight cough as the language of communication: coughed once - a pause, the teacher is close; twice - keep reading. And so we prepared, checked the connection, and the exam began. The start was smooth: I dictated the answer slowly, interrupted in time and listened attentively to the reaction. But then my friend choked and coughed: I did not understand what was going on, I began to chatter quickly on the ticket, and our well-oiled plan collapsed in a couple of minutes. For that exam, a friend got a C - oh, and he was angry with me!

The third story is not about cheating, but about deception and resourcefulness. In 9th grade, we were asked to learn Petrarch's sonnet - a 14-line love poem. I, of course, happily forgot about it, and at the moment of X I was waiting with horror when they would call me to the board and give me a deuce. But then it dawned on me. It seems that Petrarch has more than 1,000 sonnets: how does the teacher remember each one? I quickly found a line rhyming scheme (the sonnet has a special one), resorted to the spirit of creativity and in a couple of minutes I threw a poem about tenderness, roses and loneliness. Then I solemnly stood in the center of the class and recited the sonnet with an imperturbable air. “You have chosen something light, well, nothing, test,” the teacher sighed. It is a pity that this unpublished “work of Petrarch” has not survived - I would like to read it today.

In general, there is such an observation: it seems that in order to prepare a suitable spur and skillfully write off, and then confidently tell the ticket, you need to be no less smart than those who chose cramming. I studied a lot and diligently, but cheating fascinated me like a high-stakes game: I can't say that I left the school bench without any knowledge. So, maybe you shouldn't scold the cheaters so much, do you think?

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