IB survival guide for helpless mortals

Here is some advice for the PreDPs and IB1s from an older, more experienced student (who got a 2 in the last physics test but we won’t mention that)

Based on the title you’re probably wondering why you should listen to anything I say. So… why? 

Well… because failure—despite making you feel like you’ve just been dumped into a trash can—can be a learning experience, and I have made many mistakes during my time in the IB, so I have learned a lot of useful skills, like “bullsh*tting,” which we will get to later. However, I have not yet figured out the magic formula for how to survive the IB like a pro so a lot of this list will be about what not to do so you can avoid making the same mistakes I made… and continue to make because I am, in fact, a hypocrite. 

10 INSANE TRICKS that will get you AWESOME GRADES (not clickbait)

1. Study. 

Even if you think you’ve got it figured out, you probably don’t. It’s boring, but hey, this is what you signed up for. Look up study guides on the internet and try not to spend every night wondering why you decided to do this. 

2. Don’t procrastinate. 

I’ll write this later. 

3. Pay attention in class. 

It might be tempting to play computer tetris during class, but your smooth brain will retain no information whatsoever and be completely screwed by the time project week rolls around. So take notes n’ sh*t.  

4. Don’t beat yourself up if you fail.

Especially if it’s in Georgina’s math… or HL physics, f*ck I gotta study more. Beating yourself up doesn’t turn back time, so you should instead opt to be kind to yourself and think about what you need to work on for the future. Humor is also a great way to deal with failure. I once got a comment on an English essay that said it was “purely descriptive” which is honestly the most academic roast I have ever received in my life. It was also true, and I am framing this comment and putting it on my wall. 

5. Ask for help if you need it. 

Seriously, swallow your pride and just ask for help if you don’t know wtf you’re doing. I certainly don’t… this is fine. Oh, and don’t worry about looking stupid, the teachers are already thinking it *shots fired*.

6. Don’t procrastinate.

You’re probably doing it right now—I f*cken see you—and this is once again a reminder to finish whatever assignment or essay you have going on, or start studying for that test. You’re probably thinking “I’ll just do it tomorrow.” Oh rly? Obviously, I am procrastinating right now and let me tell you, you do not want to end up in this situation. At time of writing, I have an EE and an IA to finish, another IA topic to find, tests to study for, and I am behind in at least two classes. So don’t procrastinate… but you probably still will. 

7. Don’t do recreational substances at school. 

Nice old dances party you got there. Would be a shame if someone cancelled it. And the school will if they catch you drinking. So save the drinking for Friday evenings at the end of project week instead I mean, don’t do drugs—aren’t y’all underaged anyway?

8. Be yourself. 

You’ve probably heard this advice before, and that’s because it’s true. You’ll find that life gets a lot easier once you accept yourself, whatever that means for you, and people do not care about your flaws or insecurities as much as you think they do. 

9. Don’t poke the IB2s.

Especially not when we are in our natural habitat; the study lounge. Live, laugh… f*ck off. Just kidding…*sigh*

Goddamn kids, get off my lawn.

10. Bullshit responses. 

A masterclass in the art of bullsh*tting 

Bullsh*tting is about the aesthetic of insight. It’s about writing something that sounds really enlightening, but is actually just a bunch of bullsh*t. This is an art that was probably invented and mastered by—what do you call people who are like “how do we know we know we exist” and then proceed to circlejerk engage in self-congratulatory behaviour? Oh yeah, right—philosophers (this is a joke, don’t @ me, philosophers have actual insight into a topic… sometimes). But it has since been adopted by IB students who are desperately trying to get good grades but don’t give a sh*t about feel emotionally detached from the topics that they are writing about. It comes into play when you have 1 page of content but 5 to fill. It is a useful skill for things like CAS and learner portfolio entries, along with essays in language subjects and TOK. 

Because the point of bullsh*tting is to make an essay feel like commentary without actually saying much at all, grammar pedantry is a core component. Don’t use informal language. Don’t use words like “quite” or “obviously.” Don’t use contractions or words that are too casual. If you’re you are unsure, google it use a thesaurus to find out discover whether the language is good stuff academically adequate. Learn the difference between a hyphen, an en dash and an em dash (yes, really) and figure out how to use a semicolon. Whatever you do, don’t be—as Kenneth will inevitably comment on your google doc—“vague.” If you’re writing reflectively, just write as if you were trying to get on r/im14andthisisdeep. The key is to be extremely pretentious and use big words.

If you happen to be a teacher or parent reading this and wondering about the ethics of this, this is really just advice about how to write an essay that you don’t connect with. That’s what we’re actually doing. If you’re finding out, for instance, that students are bullsh*tting an essay you have assigned, what we mean is that we’re not all that excited about a work and don’t actually have that much to say about it due to most of the analysis being common knowledge or otherwise. It is also particularly ironic that a bull*shit essay about “bullsh*tting” would probably argue that bullsh*tting doesn’t exist in the first place, because bullsh*tting is often just used as a pejorative label for “writing an essay…” 

…which is exactly what I have been doing this whole time. The result is 1100 words of… whatever tf this is. This is the most I have written all week. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Alright, I’m off to bullsh*t the CAS entry that writing this has earned me.