September 27th, 2010



Do you ever give much thought to the time you were in High School?

I give it a bit, but it's mostly due to the questions I get asked by students while teaching, and I'm always faintly amused by how little importance I gave it back then (or now, really). I don't remember doing many assignments, nor do I remember spending a lot of time thinking about what I would do after school. I just kind of went there, spent time with my friends, and endured the many growing and social embarrassments that you do while surviving your teenage years at school. But I have this job now, the one that gives me money, where I spend time making sure that students get good marks, that they understand how to construct an essay, and various other things relating to the subject, and I see in them this desire to do well, this direction that they want to take after school, and the stress to get there.

It's a strange experience. Sometimes, I find myself telling students how little their High School marks mean six months after that finish, but I try not to use that as a conversation on why you shouldn't do well. They should, of course. Doing well makes me look good. It also gives them choice after they finish High School, which I think is not very well explaining. High marks don't mean that you get to be a doctor or a lawyer or happy or whatever, but it does mean that you can make a choice to be whatever you want, which someone who has lower marks does not have. A few years back, I was teaching a girl doing her final year of school, and doing the ESL course (English as a Second Language). The kind of work she was doing, at the end of her school time, was on how to make a resume, how to apply for a job, but the jobs were shit kicker jobs, the kind of thing that does not make for a bright and brilliant rock star future. It was realistic, sure, but at the same time, it drove home just how much more choice students who did top courses and scored well did.

Yet, when I was at school, I didn't think about any of that shit. I was oblivious to everything.

Oh well.

In a few weeks, the final exams for year twelve students begin. My punishment, I suppose, for being so oblivious back then, is I get to prepare every year for those exams, like I'm trapped in Hell, and there's no way out.

Please insert the appropriate music.