Out of my way, Exam P!

I PASSED THE FIRST ACTUARIAL EXAM!! Oh my goodness, I cannot tell you what a relief this is.

I made it to the University of Utah in Salt Lake an hour ahead of schedule to give myself time to get lost. No trouble came to me, thankfully.

I tried to feel calm, but of course my blood sizzled with anxiety and anticipation with each passing minute. The proctors let me start my test early, perhaps because they weren’t at full capacity. I placed my belongings in a locker, stepped into the testing room, sat down, and got started.

The first half of the exam felt very familiar and very manageable. In fact, I made really good time until I got to about eight or ten problems remaining. Then, I spent a bit too much time on a few problems and got off schedule, leaving me only ten minutes at the end for the last three questions. Since you have to allow about six minutes per question, this was not a good sign, and I began to panic. But I looked at the problems quickly, went with intuition, and had to end at the three hour mark.

And then this ridiculous and unwelcome screen appeared.

INTERMISSION: Hey, here’s a 15 question survey about your testing experience before we show you your score. Sound good?

ME: No.

I went through that survey like lightning. All I cared about was seeing the word "pass" (or "fail").

It’s hard to describe the anxiety I felt before that final screen showed up. Because the last handful of problems proved challenging, I thought for sure I failed and would be retaking Exam P in January. I clicked “Next.”

“Congratulations!”

I literally put both hands to my mouth and lost my breath. I stared at the screen for 15 seconds and took it in. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I passed! Clear as day, there it was on my computer screen. I passed.

Gaining control, I exited the room, finished checking out, and left the center. Immediately, I phoned Karen.

KAREN: Hello?

ME: I passed!

KAREN: You passed! Oh my goodness, that’s amazing! You passed! Oh honey, I’m so proud of you!

We talked briefly and then I went into the bathroom. I found a stall and immediately said a silent prayer. I felt so grateful that I almost cried. (I can be a pretty emotional person. Ask Karen.)

It’s impossible to explain the feelings Karen and I invested in this exam and what feelings came as a result of my success. Fifteen or sixteen months ago, I told a job interviewer that I wanted to be an actuary and that I figured five to ten years would probably be enough time to see me through to that. Now, about a year later, I am halfway through my second bachelor’s degree—having started it only ten or eleven months ago—and I have passed the first actuarial exam. If ever there was a young family that had an immeasurable heap of blessings to be grateful for, it is us. So much has happened since I was laid off a year ago, and so many great things keep happening. As much as I feared November 17 since a few months ago, it quickly became a day we will never forget.

I spent the entire drive home talking on my phone as I shared the news. Even though I had my iPod for music, I hardly used it. But about two minutes away from home, I decided to listen to one song. I turned on The Avett Brothers’ “The Once and Future Carpenter” and heard this line:

If I live the life I’m given, I won’t be scared to die.

Karen and I knelt at our bedside last night and prayed together. In our own way, we gave the Lord the exam and asked that He do with it whatever He pleased. We committed to be okay with whatever the outcome. But at the same time, we realized that this wasn’t our entire life. It was just one small part. Life is about living and experiencing from day to day, and, as such, putting all our emotions and happiness on this exam would have been pointless and potentially damaging. So it is with many of life’s adventures, I guess. “If I live the life I’m given, I won’t be scared to die.” Or, I won’t be scared to fail on a given day.

Later tonight, at a church meeting (stake conference evening session), I heard the choir sing “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty”, which struck me and made me pause.

Hast thou not seen

How all thou needest hath been

Granted in what he ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy way and defend thee.

Surely his goodness and mercy shall ever attend thee.

Ponder anew

What the Almighty can do . . . .

I know people who have not yet passed Exam P. I don’t know what sets me apart from them, but I do know that, as the brother of Jared said thousands of years ago, “O Lord, . . . thou hast all power, and can do whatsoever thou wilt for the benefit of man” (Ether 3:4). For some reason, this is the right thing for us right now. And we can't be more thrilled.

Probably the most casual job interview ever

The interview for the math-and-stats peer advisor position went well. I think the second question they asked me was "What kind of music do you like?", which turned into a discussion about what kind of music was best. And that's pretty much how we spent the entire 50 minutes.

There were five of them—Linda, three peer advisors, and one former peer advisor. Maybe half of the questions were personal and the others were about what I can handle job-wise. (Like, "How would you handle a very angry student?". I said something like, "The best thing to do with an angry person is to treat them with kindness. Ignore the anger and proceed with courtesy.") They were very relaxed, very friendly, and they all love their jobs. They spoke highly of the reward of seeing a student succeed in math and stats classes, of seeing the happiness they feel in getting through a subject that is so stressful for so many people.

They ended by asking me about my wife and son, and they wanted to see some pictures. The peer advisor who is being replaced was especially interested in pictures of Rich because she is pregnant right now. It was a very fun interview, they are all very fun people, and I look forward to hearing about their decision on Monday.

Somehow, I now have a job interview on April 5

So I wake up this morning and find a voicemail from Linda Skabelund, my advisor. She asked me to giver her a call on her cell phone and made the point that I should call back today.

LINDA: Hey, what're you doing?

ME: Just about to swaddle the baby!

LINDA: You're going to see an email soon about working as a peer advisor in my office. I don't know if you're interested, but it can be kind of intense. Angry parents, four-year plans, lots of laughter. You've been in here before, so you know what it's like.

ME: Yes. It seems like a...generally happy environment.

LINDA: Yes. And the email will say something about math ed majors, but you can apply if you think it's something you'd like to do. Just respond to the email and we'll set up an interview.

ME: I am definitely interested, so I will respond to the email.

LINDA: I know you said you were laid off recently and I know you're trying to take care of your family, so I want to take care of you.

ME: I really appreciate that! Thank you very much.

LINDA: Okay. And give that baby a hug for me.

I have never—repeat, NEVER—had an advisor who cares this much about her students. I'm still in shock that she called me personally to encourage me to apply for a position.