Dejection

I have a confession to make. Even though I am a great teacher and a great communicator, I sometimes have trouble following my own advice. Earlier this year I failed my OA. It was my first ever OA and my third Foreign Service candidacy. I feel like I let my family, my friends, and myself down after I was escorted from the assessment center and left outside on that cold Washington street. I tried to put on a brave face when I heard the assessor say she regretted to inform me that my score did not exceed the cutoff score necessary to continue my candidacy.

I was cautiously optimistic about my chances going into lunch that day. I thought the GE had gone well. My group worked well together, I made some good contributions, and I was even able to crack a joke. The SI seemed to go reasonably well also. I provided good examples from my background to answer their questions and I thought I conveyed the right motivation for wanting to join the Foreign Service.

But at lunch, my mentality changed. Even though I knew I had been doing well, my thoughts shifted from "I'm going to try my best and do a good job" to "I know this next component is going to suck, so I'll just try not to screw it up too badly." Instead of playing to win, I was now playing not to lose.

When it was time for me to start my CM, my head just wasn't in the game. I knew it wasn't. I couldn't analyze anything. I began including information in my memo that probably should have been left out. I didn't feel that I was answering the questions that were posed to me. And I didn't even bother reading two documents in the binder that were likely important because I was running out of time. I was panicking. I knew at this point that the CM would be the worst part of the OA for me; I just hoped it wouldn't drag my overall average score below the 5.25 threshold.

After the CM, I knew it would be close. Maybe I knew I would not pass, but I was in denial and was hoping that my writing would be just good enough to get me a 5.3. I knew a high score like a 5.7 was out of the question.

Anyway, when my name was called at the end of the day, I was escorted to one of the rooms where the SI had taken place. Two assessors were present. One assessor thanked me again for participating in the OA and mentioned that it was very difficult to make it to the OA in my particular FSOT cohort.

She was lowering the boom. I knew I was toast.

And then she gave me the bad news. I was then given an envelope that contained a paper indicating which of the exercises, if any, I had passed. I was too stunned, embarrassed and disappointed to even look at the paper in the envelope. The assessor told me she was unable to provide any feedback on why I failed or what I could do better next time. I acknowledged that I understood the policy of not providing feedback because that would constitute improper coaching. She then asked if I had any further questions, and I said no. In reality, I was too embarrassed to ask any further questions and prolong this awkward situation I had put myself in. I told the assessors that I would try again next year and was then escorted out of the center. I put on a brave face as I said goodbye to the assessor who escorted me and the security personnel in the lobby. And then I was outside.

And just like that, my dreams were crushed.

When I got to my car, I looked at the score breakdown in the envelope they provided. Sure enough, I had passed the GE and the SI, but failed the CM. And I must have failed the CM pretty badly too because I finished with a 5.0.

During the long drive home, I thought about how things could have been different. What if I had squeezed more points out of the GE and SI? What if I had not included one or two paragraphs of irrelevant information in my CM? What if I had done a better job of calming myself down after lunch? What if I had rescheduled my OA for a different date? What if?

Coming this far in the process and failing is a very tough pill to swallow. Even to this date, I don't know which part is the worst: that feeling you have when you are escorted from the assessment center with a failing score, that feeling you have when you inform your spouse and family members that you failed, or that feeling you have when you realize you have to wait so long before you can apply again. It's really tough.

But in the end, I can't complain too much. The process is competitive, but fair. And really, I can only blame myself. There's always next year!