Her demeanor was demanding and angry, like a parent scolding an errant child, eerily reminiscent of Gunnery Sergeant R. Lee Ermey's character in Stanley Kubrick's classic Full Metal Jacket. Not at all what I was expecting, not even close. Looking back on it, I suppose I had been spoiled by Debbie's personality. Debbie was sweet, understanding and caring, I wasn't even sure it was possible to get her angry. Anrol Anthony, the dean of UCWS, on the other hand already seemed to be.
I had gone into my final full of confidence, I was as steady as the proverbial rock, not even a hint of nervousness. Why should I have been? I had gone through the checklist several times and made sure I was able to meet or exceed the requirements. The ARC test? Ha ha, I was so far below maximum on all three outfits I thought it was funny. The beach and dome? Not a chance, I had practiced them repeatedly and even had notes to refer to at the ready. The huddles dance with the dean? I had already done that many times over with my fellow students. The character test and quick change? I already had loads of experience with the character test thanks to SL glitches and had already pre-made my quick change folders. I had gone over the final several times in my mind trying to figure out what to expect. I was ready, willing and able, nothing could shake this rock.
Or so I had thought. Less than five minutes into the final I was already on the receiving end of a tongue lashing worthy of the infamous Gunnery Sergeant. My mind went blank when she called Imogen and I to the front and did not praise us as I had become accustomed to during class but instead asked us if we knew how to style ourselves! Wait, what?
She then proceeded to point out a variety of flaws in our outfits. Things like my arc was too low (I thought that was the point?). I was wearing an up do with a casual outfit. Admittedly it was kind of silly to wear an up do with casual attire but in all honesty, arc had been stressed so heavily in class that I figured it to be an overriding factor. Obviously I was wrong. Immediately I began to have doubts, not in my ability, I knew the poses and formations, but whether or not I would be able to meet Anrol's stringent requirements.
She seemed to have a problem with every tiny, little detail. I had been instructed to have the TP to all three points we were to be tested on. I neglected to collect the landmarks thinking I could just as easily fly there.
"Drop and give me 25, private Rau!"
I was sorely mistaken and as the evening wore on I felt smaller and smaller with each tongue lashing. By the time I had reached about two and half feet of self esteem I experienced a feeling I had not known since childhood.., I wanted my teddy bear.
During the casual portion of our finals, Imogen and I had been given 30 minutes by Anrol to TP out and find something more befitting of a casual look. A part of me simply wanted to tp home and log out, but I am no quitter. I would see this through to the end no matter what kind of grade she gave me. During my brief shopping excursion my mind, as it has already been prone to do, began to wander. She reminded me so much of my parents whenever I would do something wrong. Why?
Getting past the beach formation Imogen and I were again called before her, it was time for the character test. She instructed us to take a photo of ourselves as "newbies" and as I looked at my pitiful self..,
... it hit me like a thunderbolt. She cared. Anrol was not the evil monster that had been hiding under my bed since I first began to sleep with the lights out. She was more of a mother hen. She was curt, strict and demanding not because she wanted to break me down like a drill sergeant, but because she wanted my best. She had an image of what it took to be the best and, with the help of her instructors, wanted to mold me, and my fellow CWS students into being just that, the very best.
That is exactly what I intend to become. To everyone at CWS, to my teachers, my fellow students, and to Steve and Anrol, thank you for everything.
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