flashyGoldFish
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HSC score may save us from worse fates
October 7, 2013
At the end of the day the HSC 'is just a number', says Lily Peschardt.
On October 14, almost 80,000 students will sit down at meticulously alphabetised desks with far too many back-up pens and clammy palms to begin their HSC exams. Exams that seem to be both the height of school life and one of the very first steps into adulthood. Exams that seem so overwhelming and all-consuming and life-altering at the time but in hindsight seem like … well, tests.
I struggle to believe that the exams that were the epicentre of my universe are condensed to nothing more than a sentence in my re´sume´. It is easy for me to diminish the extreme pressure that surrounds the HSC while the memories of practice exams and rankings and tears and exhaustion fade into some dark corner of my brain. I admire and respect anyone who undertakes the HSC, it takes an enormous amount of time and commitment. But I also worry for them. I was fortunate to have incredibly supportive parents and teachers who constantly reminded me that the exams did not define who I was, or indeed who I would become. In fact, they were more of a stepping stone; if I could be admitted into my preferred degree then great, if not, there was always another way.
I refused to see it like that. I was certain my Australian Tertiary Admission Rank (ATAR) would be a defining part of me. That it would be a symbol of my failure or success; I would forever be judged by it. While it seems clear to me now that it is merely a number, I do remember lying awake paranoid that if I didn't get the marks I wanted, I would never get into university, never graduate, never have a fulfilling career and my life would amount to nothing more than an epic disappointment (obviously, I am prone to being dramatic). But I now see the problem of reducing a teenager to a number. While it is an unquestionably useful tool, is it too simplistic?
I was fortunate to spend six months studying in America at Georgetown University; while not in the Ivy League, it is prestigious enough that the students are all shockingly bright and insanely driven. When I asked about the process of applying for American universities, I was overwhelmed at how rigorous and all-encompassing they were. Good Scholastic Aptitude Test scores would only get you so far, you needed to display participation in community service, some aptitude for an extracurricular activity, be it sport, drama or music. Then there were statements from your teachers and, of course, your personal essay that outlined your wealth of achievements while somehow conveying modesty and affability. Even the thought of assembling that sort of application brought on a mild anxiety attack, and when I confessed that I was accepted into one of Australia's leading universities after revealing only one number, I was met with looks of bewilderment. I started to wonder if the Americans were on to something. Were we being too narrow-minded and simplistic relying on ATARs?
My friends also confessed that they felt as if they had created an image of themselves to merit their acceptance into Georgetown, and that they were in no way as accomplished, as perfectly put together and as overly mature as their applications made them out to be. Of course, they had done everything on their application - but that didn't make them feel any less insecure about their shortcomings.
It occurred to me that while there is a danger in simplifying teenagers into one number, there is also a danger in making them believe that they have to be well-adjusted adults before they are 18. While there are evils to our Australian system, perhaps it puts less pressure on students than the US system does. Perhaps an imperfect system is better than one that makes teenagers feel they have to be perfect to attend university. I greatly sympathise with year 12 students eagerly awaiting the final hurdle of their school lives, desperate for it all to be finally over. Best of luck to you all - and I promise, it is just a number.
Lily Peschardt is doing a bachelor of international and global studies at Sydney University.
Read more: http://www.theage.com.au/comment/hs...worse-fates-20131006-2v280.html#ixzz2gz7TknxI
October 7, 2013
At the end of the day the HSC 'is just a number', says Lily Peschardt.
On October 14, almost 80,000 students will sit down at meticulously alphabetised desks with far too many back-up pens and clammy palms to begin their HSC exams. Exams that seem to be both the height of school life and one of the very first steps into adulthood. Exams that seem so overwhelming and all-consuming and life-altering at the time but in hindsight seem like … well, tests.
I struggle to believe that the exams that were the epicentre of my universe are condensed to nothing more than a sentence in my re´sume´. It is easy for me to diminish the extreme pressure that surrounds the HSC while the memories of practice exams and rankings and tears and exhaustion fade into some dark corner of my brain. I admire and respect anyone who undertakes the HSC, it takes an enormous amount of time and commitment. But I also worry for them. I was fortunate to have incredibly supportive parents and teachers who constantly reminded me that the exams did not define who I was, or indeed who I would become. In fact, they were more of a stepping stone; if I could be admitted into my preferred degree then great, if not, there was always another way.
I refused to see it like that. I was certain my Australian Tertiary Admission Rank (ATAR) would be a defining part of me. That it would be a symbol of my failure or success; I would forever be judged by it. While it seems clear to me now that it is merely a number, I do remember lying awake paranoid that if I didn't get the marks I wanted, I would never get into university, never graduate, never have a fulfilling career and my life would amount to nothing more than an epic disappointment (obviously, I am prone to being dramatic). But I now see the problem of reducing a teenager to a number. While it is an unquestionably useful tool, is it too simplistic?
I was fortunate to spend six months studying in America at Georgetown University; while not in the Ivy League, it is prestigious enough that the students are all shockingly bright and insanely driven. When I asked about the process of applying for American universities, I was overwhelmed at how rigorous and all-encompassing they were. Good Scholastic Aptitude Test scores would only get you so far, you needed to display participation in community service, some aptitude for an extracurricular activity, be it sport, drama or music. Then there were statements from your teachers and, of course, your personal essay that outlined your wealth of achievements while somehow conveying modesty and affability. Even the thought of assembling that sort of application brought on a mild anxiety attack, and when I confessed that I was accepted into one of Australia's leading universities after revealing only one number, I was met with looks of bewilderment. I started to wonder if the Americans were on to something. Were we being too narrow-minded and simplistic relying on ATARs?
My friends also confessed that they felt as if they had created an image of themselves to merit their acceptance into Georgetown, and that they were in no way as accomplished, as perfectly put together and as overly mature as their applications made them out to be. Of course, they had done everything on their application - but that didn't make them feel any less insecure about their shortcomings.
It occurred to me that while there is a danger in simplifying teenagers into one number, there is also a danger in making them believe that they have to be well-adjusted adults before they are 18. While there are evils to our Australian system, perhaps it puts less pressure on students than the US system does. Perhaps an imperfect system is better than one that makes teenagers feel they have to be perfect to attend university. I greatly sympathise with year 12 students eagerly awaiting the final hurdle of their school lives, desperate for it all to be finally over. Best of luck to you all - and I promise, it is just a number.
Lily Peschardt is doing a bachelor of international and global studies at Sydney University.
Read more: http://www.theage.com.au/comment/hs...worse-fates-20131006-2v280.html#ixzz2gz7TknxI
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