Skip to main content

Citizen Scout

I didn't go to English class on Tuesday because there wasn't going to be anything for me to do that day. Plus, I think I pulled a muscle while doubled over in a coughing fit—that, or I cracked a rib. Probably just a muscle.

I did go to class yesterday, though, because I'm feeling much more comfortable now, and I knew there would be a full two hours of work going on. I never know what my tasks will be each day because I just go with the flow and do whatever the teacher asks of me. Yesterday, she asked me to work with a woman who has been studying for her citizenship test. Yes, immigrants really can be here legally and really do want to join the team and become citizens.

This particular immigrant moved here from Mexico years ago with her family. Her husband has already become a citizen, which means her children can become citizens after they complete a stack of forms. No tests are required for them, but the mother has to take the test. It's nearly 100 questions long and covers history and general citizenship subjects like who becomes president should the president and vice-president both become incapacitated, or how many representatives are in the House of Representatives.

The woman and I sat in a room with a series of flash cards that represented the types of questions that will appear on the test. She was sailing right through them until we got about half-way through, and then it became clear she hadn't studied that far into the questions. It was OK because I didn't know all the answers either, so we learned together. What an ordeal.

I wonder how many people born and educated in the U.S. would pass the test if they were forced to take it. I wasn't sure if I could pass such a test, so I went to history.com and took the test there. The questions were very similar to the questions on the flash cards from yesterday morning—96 of them in three categories. Lucky for me it seems I could pass with a full 93%, but I'm sure I would not have done that well had I not just studied.

Go here and see if you could pass, unless you're from the UK or Australia or someplace where none of this matters.

Comments

savannah said…
i am so going to take the test! xoxox
Shan said…
That is a very impressive score! I've heard that test is a booger. I may not tell if I take it. I don't want my blog friends to be disappointed because I made a C in poli-sci. :) I'm so curious to see what's on it though.
Well obviously I'm not going to take the test, but I know what you mean. I'm not sure I'd be able to answer similar Qs about my own country.
Madame DeFarge said…
I always think the same about the UK citizenship test. I think I flunked it when I looked at it, but then I am Scottish, so I'm allowed to get some wrong on account of cultural imperialism.
MmeBenaut said…
It matters in Australia but not for US citizenship. We have a test too but I'm pretty sure it isn't 100 questions.
What is the pass mark?
In Australia ours was 100% but they've recently relaxed it so that all questions have the same weight.
I'm sure I wouldn't get 100% on our test.

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...