My educational background has been coupled with various forms of learning assessment. These are usually described as Continuous Assessment (CA), calculated per term in primary and secondary school or per semester in university. In this model, students write tests and a final exam for each subject or course.
But Continuous Assessments are not just about tests and exams. They are often multifaceted, including various components that collectively measure a student’s performance. For example:
- Tests: These are the classic mini-exams taken periodically to gauge understanding of the material taught so far.
- Projects: Practical, hands-on assignments where students apply concepts in real-world or simulated scenarios. These can range from essays and research papers to group assignments and creative presentations.
- Practicals: Particularly common in science subjects, these involve laboratory experiments, fieldwork, or other hands-on activities to test students’ skills and understanding of practical applications.
- Attendance: Yes, even attendance counts! In many cases, simply showing up regularly to class can earn you a portion of your CA score. This is seen as a way to encourage consistency and participation.
Together, these components aim to provide a holistic evaluation of a student’s learning journey throughout the term or semester. They also serve as preparation for the final exam, which often carries the heaviest weight in the overall grade.
This structured approach is what I’ve known all my life. It’s familiar, predictable, and (to some extent) forgiving. If you didn’t do well in one component, you could always make up for it in others. So you can imagine my surprise when I encountered a completely different method of assessment during my studies in Europe: the oral examination.
My First Encounter with Oral Examinations
The concept of sitting face-to-face with an examiner, engaging in a live conversation about the subject matter, felt like a plot twist in my academic journey. It wasn’t just about regurgitating facts; it was about having a dialogue, explaining your understanding, and sometimes even defending your perspective.
I realized that it demands a very different kind of preparation. You can’t simply memorize and write your answers. Instead, you have to deeply understand the subject, anticipate potential questions, and be ready to respond thoughtfully and coherently on the spot. It’s like preparing for a performance where the spotlight is firmly on you, with no script to rely on.
At first, the idea was terrifying. What if I forgot something critical? What if I misunderstood a question or couldn’t articulate my thoughts clearly? Unlike written exams, there’s no chance to skip a question and come back to it later. It’s all real-time, all or nothing. This particular exam, I had 15 minutes. And that was the only form of assessment and the grade was decided on the spot. The attendance didn't matter, there were no assignments, nor tests. In my opinion, this particular one was wierd because I don't just feel my understanding of a semester's lectures can be effeciently assessed in 15 minutes. Days has passed and I just couldn't accept such standard of grading.
Written vs. Oral: Two Sides of the Same Coin
When I compare the oral examination to the assessment methods I grew up with, the differences are striking. Written assessments are excellent for measuring detailed knowledge across a wide range of topics. They’re structured, consistent, and allow students to work at their own pace. If you make a mistake, it’s often possible to recover by doing well on other questions.
Oral exams, on the other hand, push you to think critically and communicate effectively. They aren’t just about what you know—they’re about how well you can explain it. They test your confidence, your ability to think on your feet, and your capacity to engage in intellectual dialogue. These are skills that written exams rarely address.
Of course, oral examinations have their challenges. The subjective nature of the evaluation means your grade could depend heavily on the examiner’s mood or interpretation of your answers. The pressure is intense, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed.
A Broader Perspective on Education
This experience has given me a new appreciation for the diverse ways in which education is approached around the world. The oral exam tradition in Europe emphasizes dialogue, adaptability, and the ability to think critically under pressure—qualities that are invaluable in today’s world.
At the same time, I value the structure and inclusiveness of Continuous Assessments, which recognize that learning happens in different ways for different people. Each method has its strengths, and together, they offer a more complete picture of a student’s abilities. So, is oral examination the weirdest form of assessment I’ve ever encountered? Absolutely, but if I have to choose, I will be more happy to avoid it at all cost. Nevertheless, has taught me to embrace discomfort as a tool for growth and to appreciate the many ways we can learn and be evaluated.
What about you? Have you ever experienced an assessment method that felt completely foreign or challenging? Maybe a quirky group project, an unconventional practical exam, or something else entirely? How did you adapt to it, and what did you take away from the experience?
Author
Bamidele Clement Oke
Esri Certified GIS Analyst/Developer
Esri Certified GIS Analyst with extensive experience in both government and private sectors, providing innovative geospatial solutions. Currently, I'm pursuing a double master's degree with a focus on Geovisualization and Geocommunication. When I'm not making maps, I'm either designing apps and sites like this one, playing with my son, doing some DIY stuff, or eating something made with beans. Need geospatial insights or just want to chat about GIS? I'm your map whisperer!
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