‘Twas the night before results day, and all of God’s creatures,
Were restless and edgy, especially the teachers.
The college places were hung (in the balance) with care,
In hopes that the right grades soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of wrecked futures danced in their heads.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
When to my surprise what came down from the hills,
But a miniature me and eight tiny pupils.
As they were in my lessons, open-hearted they came,
As I whistled and shouted and called them by name:
Now Deborah, now Dwayne, now Curtis and Karen,
On Tracey, on Bradley on Simon and Sharon.
How I wish they were leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle would mount to the sky...
As it is they’re more like leaves that fall to the ground,
and when the wild hurricane comes,
are nowhere to be found.
For when these fragile leaves meet with obstacles they,
crumple and shrivel and start to decay.
Please tell me you’re smiling now, and not squirming too much as I massacre Clement Clarke Moore’s masterpiece? I’ll stop there, in the hope that those few lines are enough to begin to capture the essence of what I want to say.
Only a little more unpacking:
We all have our “fragile leaves” that we lie awake worrying about at this time of year: the Dwaynes and the Karens. We all have pre-results day visions of what might have been, if only we could have done things differently, if only the odds were not stacked against them (and us) so overwhelmingly, if only our jobs were not dependent on these results.
All we can do is wait and wonder. Stockings full of hopes, dreams and expectations are hung by the chimney of apprenticeships - or jobs, or courses, or whatever that next step might be. We are so powerless now and it is all so public. Pay progression, promotions, and perhaps more importantly professional credibility in the eyes of our colleagues, are all hanging in the balance, along with those grades.
I have been around in this job for long enough to know that the thing about exam results days is that they keep on coming. This year’s will be very similar to all the others: there will be sensationalised, exaggerated claims in the media. Political points will be scored across the spectrum. There will be individual stories of great, odds-overcoming triumphs, alongside devastated pupils who deserved to do so much better.
We won’t be far into September before it is all forgotten and August 2018 is all that matters. If, through it all, we can hand-on-heart say we have done the best we could for our pupils to prepare them for their exam, then on Thursday of this week...
We too can say with Moore, as we drive out of sight,
“Happy results day to all, and to all a good night!”
Christian Pountain is head of RE and director of spirituality at a secondary school in Lancashire.
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