Like a proud but nervous mother waving her son off to war, I’ve
just said goodbye to my Year 13s (Upper Sixth, for the dinosaurs out
there), who will sit their final exam in my subject immediately after
half term. It ought to be a moment to lean back, put my feet up and
smoke an imaginary cigar – a chance to reflect on a hard but satisfying
year’s work.
Ah, if only.
Next up – alongside cajoling
Year 12s (who are already mentally on the beach) to the end of term – is
writing their University and Colleges Admissions Service (UCAS)
references. To this end, the college has helpfully provided a
‘refresher’ on best practice.
Now, you might think this is where
a teacher’s professional judgement, based on two years’ knowledge of a
student, is paramount. We are, after all, giving universities real
insight into what their next intake might offer. That’s what you’d
think. But no. Our job is to present a pen-pic of the uber-student –
forever, in senior management’s words, “cycling downhill with the wind
behind them”. While encouragement is in every teacher’s DNA, the
references we are expected to write – liberally dusted with
inspirational adjectives and superlatives – belong more to prize-winning
fiction than honest educational assessment.
Take Lola, for
example, who rarely completes homework. She will become “a visionary
free spirit who selectively channels her boundless energy into the
pursuits that truly ignite her soul”. Tyler, for whom abstract thought
remains an occasionally visited country, is reimagined as someone who
“approaches problems with unusual deliberation, preferring thoughtful
reflection to rushed conclusions”. Serial non-attender Madison is
eulogised as “a fiercely independent trailblazer who courageously
follows her own rhythm”...<<<Read More>>>...
