Posts Tagged ‘exams’

What do you reckon is the most boring job on the planet? I don’t mean the worst one –  that award would more than likely go to a septic tank operative – I mean the most mind-numbingly tedious, thanklessly dull occupation you can possibly think of.

Well I’ll tell you, seeing as I’ve experienced it this week. Exam invigilation. It’s the absolute pits. Usually school buys in outside invigilators but this year, surprise suprise, not enough people came forward for this drearily monotonous position. They’d obviously had enough last year and signed up for something much more exciting – like recording the types of car entering a car park between the hours of daylight or that kind of thing. So who do they get to fill these incredibly necessary but vacuous hours? The support team, of course: they’ll do anything.

While you’re standing for at least ninety minutes in a school hall, watching 120 pupils poring over their GCSE papers, making sure they don’t cheat, time seems to stand still. I suppose that’s how many of the candidates view it too, unless they’re the ones equipped with the suggested highlighters and are industriously annotating their papers, writing the plan as per the taught techniques for attaining the top grades. Never mind that they haven’t learnt any of the actual content – as long as they understand a mark scheme and can deliver to a formula, they’re laughing. One lad I noticed, scribbled away for all of ten minutes, put his pen down, pushed his paper away and sat for the rest of the time wearing a glazed expression. At least he had a chair.

As the clock ticks ever louder, you are forced into thinking about all the other things you could be doing with your ninety minutes. Watch a football match for instance, or travel to and back from Waterloo with minutes to spare, allowing for the inevitable commuting delay. Mow the lawn, do a complete wash cycle, probably get round the supermarket and put it all away once home; fly to Paris – probably even further but I’m being realistic; drive to Stonehenge. So many things could be achieved in that time.

Then you count all the pupils with dark hair; all the redheads, all the blondes. Count all the left-handers (reassuringly more than you’d think – not so sinister, after all); you go through each row trying to name each one and failing miserably; you look for the prettiest, the ugliest, the thinnest, the fattest. You check the clock. An astonishing fifteen minutes have passed by. You walk up a row to alleviate the deadening pain in the small of your back and realise how loud your shoes squeak. You wait in desperation for a student to put up their hand for extra paper or a toilet break. Neither of these occurred on my watch, sadly.

Thank goodness we have a half term break next week. Never mind the students, revising madly for the next raft of papers to hit them in early June. Never mind that the exam season always falls during the best weather of the summer and at the worst time for all those hay-fever sufferers. Spare a thought for the invigilator, and while you are, watch this – it’s hilarious.

I’m off on my travels next week so may well miss posting but I’ll do my best to keep up with reading all my favourite blogs – from whichever airport I’m delayed in. 🙂

 

 

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Earlier this week I was sorting out a pile of papers and files in the room we ambitiously call our office. It is the smallest bedroom and contains a bookcase and a desk, where we all dump stuff which gets forgotten about until one of us (me) has a tidy up and throws most of it away. I found the following poem, amongst a lot of school-related detritus, which I remember scribbling down a couple of years ago during a never-ending invigilation session. The inspiration came from something my son once said to me when he was at school, about feeling like a battery chicken. Having spent last term with our students doing wall to wall assessments, and who are now preparing for next term and wall to wall exams, I think this posting is probably timely. Especially in light of the recent vote of no confidence awarded to our Minister for Education.

                

I want my child to be free range

To experience a host of new things

I want him to learn for his interest

Not have the state clip his wings.

Some kids refuse to be moulded –

They’ve seen the warning signs –

They’re doomed to fail,

They’re proper pests

Fidgeting, chatting and larking about…

…While the battery chicks sit their tests.

But these kids have something

That the others lack

A sense of singularity –

They refuse to follow the pack.

Light distraction’s healthy

A joke or two just fine

Children learn in many ways

Not sitting exams all the time.

Let’s not bother quite so much

About levels and being graded,

Mock exams; the marking, the testing,

Leaves teachers feeling jaded.

Name, rank and number, our fathers gave

In order for us to be free

But our kids aren’t allowed to think for themselves

With this processing for bureaucracy.

Assessing and checking and following graphs

And measuring year upon year

The homogenisation of eager young minds

Keeps the education dept open, I fear.

A – C grades win big prizes

Not only for students – the schools!

Our kids are used as pawns in a game –

Inflate the league tables –

That’s rules!

We teach them how to pass

Any number of things

But are they learning for life?

Or is it all gone in an instant,

As soon as the papers are sent

To AQA, Ed Excel – whatever

To run through a scanner,

Be multiple-choiced

A 25% chance of success.

Oh, let our children be free range!

Please give them a looser rein

To be individuals,

Unique, thoughtful beings

Not churned out to be all the same.

picture from techcentral.ie

picture from techcentral.ie

Cynical… me? 

 © jennypellett 2013

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