Being in grade 9 at the moment, I’m going through one of the more important processes 14 year olds have to undergo: high school applications. The wonderful time where one decides where, and how they’re going to suffer through their high school years. It’s a pretty big decision, especially with all the special education programs that are made available to us. IB, or AP? French, or English? Transfer to my area designated, or go to my GATE designated? Luckily though, being the keener that I am, I attended the open houses of all my possible schools during my grade 8 year, so the process would go as smoothly as possible. Finally, I decided on Western… which necessitates a transfer.
In previous years, applying for high school transfers was comparatively simple. But alas, due to the CBE placing harsh regulations concerning designated schools in order to discourage unnecessary transfers, the process has become increasingly difficult, almost to a degree of redundant bureaucracy. From submitting a comprehensive package (letter of intent, transfer request form, most recent report card, proof of residency, and proof of citizenship) to your designated school to be signed, to scheduling a meeting with the requested school discussing the transfer, it certainly gives me a headache just to think about. However, it quickly became evident that I had to make a strong case to get in; and I was ready to impress.
For those applying for the international baccalaureate (IB) programme at Western, there’s a placement test for math, taking place in January. And believe me: in speaking to a few friends who took that placement test, I wasn’t exactly feeling warm and fuzzy about it. No, the sentiment was actually more along the lines of a) “Oh no, I don’t know math in English” (drawbacks of having 4/5 core subjects in French? Not knowing what a “cathète” is in English, and many other translation struggles: the series!) b) “Oh no, there’s trigonometry on the test, there is no way the Alberta math curriculum is going to teach me trigonometry before January”, and finally, c) “I absolutely refuse to go to math boot camp if I get under 20%, I am going to be in Toronto for the last two weeks of August if it is the very last thing I do”
This impending math test brought up quite a bit of ethical doubt about education, and how far I was willing to go to perform well on the placement test. There is a culture within high school (including junior high, and oftentimes, even elementary school), of pretty extreme academic competition. Perhaps being in the Gifted And Talented Education program for 3 years enhanced this culture; but personally, I always felt that I was dragging behind, compared to all of my peers. I saw all my friends taking Kumon, or working with tutors, taking wildly unnecessary courses outside of school to “get that academic edge”. I saw students in grade 6, doing booklets of calculus, grade 8, taking an ELA 30-1 course on Saturdays, kids not even in high school, preparing for the Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT), their Medical College Admission Test (MCAT), or their Law School Admission Test (LSAT).
For someone who has never done Kumon, or had any tutor, or any additional instruction for a school subject, it starts to become a little discouraging when it feels as though it is expected that I already understand a concept before the teacher has even taught it just because everyone else already knows it… Up until a few weeks ago, I brushed it off, because I’d rather be receiving an education at school, then spending time getting ahead just to seem smart in the classroom. But let me tell you, looking at my prospects for that math test, I was considering doing some hard core supplementary math. I downloaded a collection of old University of Waterloo math competitions, and I asked around for anyone I knew to teach me trigonometry. In short, I panicked.
But one night, while working through a 1997 grade 9 math contest, I abruptly came to an epiphany, if you will. I would love to tell you that it was some profound, principled voice becoming clear, but honestly, I think I just became too lazy to keep working on unnecessary math. But nevertheless, here it is: why am I working so hard to get into a class that is too good for me?
It feels as though there is inherent pressure to study, and do well on this placement test, as to be placed into a good class. High school students love divides, they thrive off of categorizing, and labelling others, whether or not it is done consciously. And knowing the types of kids who are likely to go into the IB programme, the prospect of taking two weeks off their summer to have to go to math boot camp, or being placed in a 10-2 class is absolutely terrifying, and I understand that: for many students, there is a constant expectation that they always get good marks, and if that means taking extra classes so that school seems easy, so be it.
But I start to ask myself: What’s the point? Because the purpose of education, isn’t to show off, and already know what you’re being taught; it is to learn, to build knowledge, and understanding, and prepare you for your future. So why should I have to prepare so that I can come off as smart when I’m supposed to be learning the very concepts I’ve already finished? When did education become a race to run just slightly ahead of the group so that they felt inferior?
Of course, competition is healthy, to a certain extent. But the sorts of academic competition that is so common in school nowadays crosses the line. Students and parents alike are pushing to get as far ahead as possible, as early as possible, without stopping to consider what happens once they’re supposed to learn it. Because it reaches a point where certain students should not be at school; they show up simply to look smart, but aren’t learning anything. There is so much pressure, and such high expectations, that this starts to become the norm; and it’s honestly silly.
Education is not some sort of showcase to flaunt your knowledge; it should be a safe space to foster learning, and growth. I want that back.
